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pinkmoontaco · 1 day ago

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It all started with a song || Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Producer-Idol Jihoon x Producer-Solo Idol Reader

Genre: Fluff, Idol romance

Summary: Jihoon, the reserved genius of SEVENTEEN, unexpectedly finds himself drawn to Y/N, a rising junior idol from HYBE, after collaborating on a duet. What starts as a professional partnership blossom into a heartfelt romance, captured in their respective songs

Author's note: This is my first time writing a story, and I truly appreciate you giving it a chance. Please forgive me if there are any mistakes—I’m still learning and growing as a writer. Thank you so much for taking the time to read and support my work. It means the world to me, and I hope you enjoy the journey I’ve created.

Jihoon was preparing to release his solo album, which included a heartfelt duet about two lovers. After finishing his own parts, his next challenge was to find the perfect female lead for the song. With Bumzu’s help, he sifted through several demos of the female section.

After an exhaustive search, one demo finally stood out to him—it was exactly what he was looking for. When Bumzu visited him the next day, he asked, “Did any of the lyrics catch your attention?”

Jihoon nodded and showed him the demo.

“Oh, so you liked Y/N’s lyrics,” Bumzu said with a knowing smile. That’s when Jihoon learned that the lyrics had been written by Y/N, a junior solo idol from HYBE.

“You’ve never met her, have you?” Bumzu asked.

Jihoon shook his head. It was no surprise—everyone knew Jihoon wasn’t one to socialize much.

“I’ll bring her to the studio tomorrow,” Bumzu said confidently before heading out, leaving Jihoon to ponder the upcoming meeting.

The next day, Jihoon arrived at the studio earlier than usual, his mind a mix of anticipation and curiosity. He wasn’t sure what to expect. He knew Y/N by name, but meeting her in person would be different.

As he set up his equipment, the door swung open, and Bumzu walked in with a bright grin. Behind him was Y/N, her presence soft yet commanding. She wore a simple outfit, but her confidence and aura made it clear why she was a rising star.

“Jihoon, meet Y/N,” Bumzu introduced.

Jihoon stood, his usual calm demeanor masking his nerves. “Hi,” he greeted simply, bowing slightly.

“Hi! It’s so great to finally meet you Sunbae-nim" Y/N said with a warm smile. Her voice was light and melodic, just as he’d imagined. “I’ve heard so much about you and your music.”

“Likewise, but please don't call me sunbae-nim, you can call me by my name,” Jihoon replied, his words brief but sincere.

Bumzu clapped his hands together, breaking the silence. “Alright, let’s get to work! You two have a duet to perfect.”

Jihoon gestured toward the recording booth, silently inviting Y/N to take her place. As they started working through the song, Jihoon found himself impressed—not just by her vocal ability but by her understanding of the emotions behind the lyrics.

They went over the harmonies and phrasing, fine-tuning every detail. By the end of the session, Jihoon was pleasantly surprised at how smoothly everything had gone. Y/N wasn’t just talented; she was professional and insightful, bringing a depth to the song that exceeded his expectations.

“You’re really good,” Jihoon said as they wrapped up, his tone earnest.

Y/N beamed. “Thank you! Your composition is amazing—it makes it easy to connect with the song.”

For the first time in a while, Jihoon felt a genuine sense of excitement about the project. Maybe working with others wasn’t so bad after all.

After their first session, Jihoon couldn’t stop thinking about how seamlessly Y/N had brought the song to life. It was rare for him to feel this level of connection with another artist, especially so quickly.

The next day, Bumzu texted Jihoon. "How was it working with Y/N? She said she had a great time."

Jihoon hesitated for a moment before typing back. "She’s talented. The song’s coming together well."

Bumzu responded with a teasing emoji. "That’s high praise from you! Maybe you should tell her that in person."

Jihoon frowned slightly but didn’t reply. Compliments weren’t exactly his strong suit.

Their second studio session was scheduled later that week. Y/N arrived on time, as cheerful and prepared as before. Jihoon noticed how her energy seemed to brighten the room, even when she was just warming up.

“Good morning!” she greeted with a bright smile.

Jihoon nodded. “Morning. Ready to dive in?”

“Always,” she said confidently.

As they worked through the song again, Jihoon found himself more at ease. Y/N’s suggestions were thoughtful, and she wasn’t afraid to ask questions or offer input, which he appreciated. Somewhere in between harmonizing and tweaking lines, they started to find a rhythm—not just in the music, but in their conversations.

During a short break, Y/N leaned back in her chair. “You know, Jihoon, this is one of the most beautiful songs I’ve ever worked on. It feels so raw and real.”

Jihoon glanced at her, caught off guard by her sincerity. “Thanks. That means a lot,” he said quietly.

“Is it based on a personal experience?” she asked cautiously, as if afraid to overstep.

He hesitated for a moment before replying. “Kind of. It’s… inspired by the idea of love. Not necessarily mine, though.”

Y/N tilted her head, studying him. “I get it. Sometimes it’s easier to write about emotions from a distance.”

Jihoon nodded, appreciating her understanding. Their conversation drifted to other topics—music, inspirations, and even random stories about life as idols. For someone he’d only met recently, Y/N was surprisingly easy to talk to.

By the end of the session, the song was nearly complete. As they packed up, Y/N turned to Jihoon.

“I think this duet is going to be really special,” she said. “Thank you for letting me be part of it.”

Jihoon looked at her, feeling a rare warmth in her words. “You brought the song to life. I should be thanking you.”

Her eyes lit up at his unexpected praise. “Well, I guess we make a pretty good team,” she said with a grin.

Jihoon allowed himself a small smile. “Yeah, we do.”

As Y/N left the studio that day, Jihoon couldn’t help but think that meeting her had been one of the best things to happen during this project.

In the weeks that followed, Jihoon and Y/N spent more time together polishing their duet. Each session seemed to bring them closer, not just as collaborators but as individuals. Y/N’s infectious laughter and unfiltered enthusiasm often pulled Jihoon out of his shell, while Jihoon’s quiet determination and thoughtful approach inspired Y/N to push herself even further.

One day, as they wrapped up the final recording, Bumzu entered the studio with a wide grin. “So, how does it feel to be done?”

Y/N clapped her hands together excitedly. “It feels amazing! I can’t wait for people to hear it.”

Jihoon nodded in agreement, his usual stoicism giving way to a subtle but genuine smile. “It’s better than I imagined.”

Bumzu raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Wow, Jihoon actually giving compliments? I need to write this down.”

Y/N laughed. “He’s not that bad. He’s just… selective with his words.”

Jihoon shot her a mock glare, but there was no malice behind it. Instead, he found himself smiling along with her—a rare occurrence that didn’t go unnoticed by Bumzu.

As they packed up, Bumzu pulled Jihoon aside. “You know, you’ve changed a bit since working with her,” he said casually.

Jihoon frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you seem… lighter. Happier, even,” Bumzu said with a knowing grin. “It’s a good look on you.”

Jihoon didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he glanced over at Y/N, who was chatting animatedly with a staff member. There was something about her—something that made him feel less burdened, more open to the world around him.

The song’s release day arrived, and the response was overwhelming. Fans praised the emotional depth of the duet, calling it one of Jihoon’s best works yet. Many were also captivated by the chemistry between Jihoon and Y/N, evident not just in their vocals but in the behind-the-scenes clips shared online.

As they stood backstage during a live performance, Y/N turned to Jihoon. “Are you nervous?” she asked, noticing his unusually quiet demeanor.

“A little,” he admitted. “Not about the song, though. I just hope people feel what we tried to convey.”

Y/N placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “They will. This song has so much heart in it. You’ve poured yourself into it, and I’ve never been prouder to be part of something.”

Her words struck a chord with Jihoon. For the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel alone in his creative journey. “Thank you,” he said softly.

When they stepped on stage and began to sing, Jihoon realized something unexpected. The song, which he’d once viewed as merely a project, had become something far more personal. And in that moment, as their voices blended and the audience’s applause filled the air, Jihoon understood just how much Y/N had changed his perspective—not just on music, but on life itself.

After the performance, Y/N grinned at him. “See? We nailed it.”

Jihoon met her gaze, his expression warm. “We really did.”

And as they walked off stage together, Jihoon couldn’t help but think that this was only the beginning of a story far greater than either of them had anticipated.

In the days following the song's release, the hype only grew. The other members of SEVENTEEN were quick to congratulate Jihoon. Mingyu, with his ever-present energy, was the first to bring it up during one of their group practice sessions.

“Hyung! That duet is insane! Everyone’s talking about you and Y/N,” Mingyu said, clapping him on the back.

Joshua added with a smile, “Yeah, the fans are loving the chemistry. You two sounded amazing together.”

Jihoon felt a rare flush of embarrassment rise to his cheeks. “Thanks, guys. It was a lot of work, but she made it easier.”

“Oh-ho!” Seungkwan chimed in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hyung admitting someone made his life easier? This must be a first!”

The room erupted into laughter. Even Jeonghan, who always had a teasing comment up his sleeve, smirked. “So when do we get to meet this famous Y/N?”

Before Jihoon could respond, the studio door creaked open and in walked Bumzu—with Y/N beside him. The sudden appearance of their guest caught everyone’s attention.

“Speak of the devil!” Vernon said, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N waved nervously, a bit overwhelmed by being surrounded by the full force of SEVENTEEN. “Hi, everyone. It’s nice to finally meet all of you.”

Dino bounded over with enthusiasm. “You’re the one with that amazing voice! Your part in the song gave me chills.”

“Thanks!” Y/N said, her smile growing as she relaxed.

Hoshi, never one to miss a moment, stepped forward and grinned. “Are you ready to dance with us too? Because in SEVENTEEN, we don’t just sing—we dance.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide a small smirk. “Don’t scare her off, Hoshi.”

Y/N laughed, feeling at ease now. “I’d love to try sometime, but I don’t think I could keep up with you guys. I’m more of a singer than a dancer.”

Jun nudged Jihoon playfully. “Looks like you’re not the only one who’s found a great collaborator.”

Over the next hour, SEVENTEEN welcomed Y/N into their world, joking and sharing stories. The room was filled with laughter, the group’s usual dynamic enriched by a new presence. Jihoon found himself observing the way Y/N blended in so effortlessly, as if she’d been part of their chaotic family all along.

As the evening went on, Minghao approached Jihoon with a knowing smile. “You look happy,” he said simply.

Jihoon glanced at Y/N, who was now in an animated conversation with DK and Woozi, sharing anecdotes about their vocal warm-ups. A small, content smile played on his lips. “I guess I am.”

A few weeks later, SEVENTEEN was preparing for a group livestream, and Y/N was invited to join as a surprise guest. Jihoon wasn’t thrilled about the idea at first—he preferred to keep things professional—but the rest of the members were insistent.

“Come on, Jihoon,” Seungkwan pleaded. “The fans already love you two together. This will be fun!”

“It’s a great way to promote the song even more,” Mingyu added. “Plus, we want to see how she handles being in one of our chaotic lives.”

Reluctantly, Jihoon agreed, and Y/N arrived at the dorm just as the livestream was about to begin.

“Is this what it’s like before you go live?” Y/N asked, watching the members scramble to adjust cameras, lights, and snacks.

“Always,” Jeonghan said with a smirk. “It’s controlled chaos.”

As the livestream began, fans flooded the chat with comments. The members introduced Y/N, and the reaction was overwhelmingly positive.

“Y/N’s here! OMG!”

“She and Jihoon look so good together!”

“The duet is my favorite song right now!”

Jihoon, who was reading the comments on his phone, shifted uncomfortably but managed a small smile. “The fans seem happy,” he said quietly to Y/N.

“They’re so sweet,” Y/N replied, her eyes scanning the messages.

The members took turns asking her questions, each one more playful than the last.

“Hoshi,” Y/N said, laughing, “why are you asking if I’d join the Performance Team? I just told you I’m not much of a dancer!”

“Because we can teach you,” Hoshi replied with a dramatic flourish.

DK chimed in, “Or you can join the Vocal Team! We need more people who can hit those high notes.”

“Don’t listen to them,” Minghao said. “You’re a solo artist. Stay in your lane before they rope you into our madness.”

The banter continued until Seungkwan leaned into the camera and asked the question everyone wanted to know.

“So, Y/N, how’s it working with Jihoon?”

The chat exploded with reactions.

Y/N glanced at Jihoon, who was clearly caught off guard but tried to mask it. She smiled. “Honestly? It’s been amazing. He’s a perfectionist, but in the best way. I’ve learned so much from him.”

Jihoon cleared his throat, his ears tinged pink. “She’s talented, so it wasn’t hard to work with her,” he said simply, earning exaggerated “oohs” from the members.

As the livestream continued, Y/N fit right in with SEVENTEEN’s dynamic, laughing and joking with them like she’d known them for years. Fans in the chat began calling her an “honorary 14th member,” a title that made her laugh but also secretly warmed Jihoon’s heart.

After the livestream ended, the members sprawled across the couch, tired but happy.

“You handled that like a pro,” Mingyu said, tossing a cushion at Y/N.

“Thanks,” Y/N replied, catching the cushion. “You guys are a lot of fun. I can see why your fans love you so much.”

As the group began to disperse, Jihoon found himself alone with Y/N for the first time that evening.

“You were great today,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

“Thanks. I was a little nervous, but you all made it easy,” Y/N said, leaning against the back of the couch. “Your members are like family, huh?”

Jihoon nodded. “They are. It’s chaotic, but it’s… home.”

Y/N smiled. “I can tell. You’re lucky to have that.”

There was a comfortable silence between them before Y/N added, “And thanks for letting me be part of all this. I didn’t expect to be welcomed so warmly.”

Jihoon met her gaze, his usual stoicism softening. “You’re part of it now. Whether you like it or not.”

Her laughter filled the room, light and genuine. “I think I like it.”

And for the first time in a long while, Jihoon felt like the walls he’d built around himself were no longer as important.

Over the next few weeks, Y/N continued to bond with SEVENTEEN. She found herself invited to more studio sessions, group meals, and even impromptu dance practices. Despite her initial hesitation about being in the spotlight alongside such a well-known group, their warmth made her feel at home.

Jihoon, on the other hand, started noticing the subtle ways Y/N was changing the dynamic around him. She wasn’t just a collaborator anymore; she was becoming a friend. Someone who could pull him out of his creative tunnel and remind him to enjoy the little moments.

One day, after a long recording session, the group decided to hang out at their dorm. Y/N hesitated when Seungkwan invited her along.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude,” she said.

“You? Intruding?” Seungkwan scoffed. “You’re practically one of us now. Come on!”

When they arrived at the dorm, chaos quickly ensued. Mingyu was in the kitchen, trying to cook something “special,” while Hoshi and Dino argued over which choreography to show Y/N.

Jihoon sat on the couch, quietly observing the scene. Y/N was laughing with Jeonghan, who was undoubtedly up to some mischief. He couldn’t help but smile to himself.

“You like her, don’t you?” Minghao’s voice pulled Jihoon from his thoughts.

Jihoon turned to him, his expression unreadable. “What are you talking about?”

Minghao smirked. “You’re not as subtle as you think. The way you look at her—it’s different.”

Jihoon sighed, leaning back against the couch. “She’s… easy to be around. That’s all.”

“Sure,” Minghao said, clearly unconvinced. “Just don’t wait too long to figure it out.”

Later that evening, as everyone settled in for a movie, Jihoon found himself sitting next to Y/N. The room was dimly lit, and the sound of laughter and popcorn crunching filled the air.

Y/N leaned closer to whisper, “Thanks for letting me hang out with you guys. I didn’t expect this when we started working on the song.”

Jihoon glanced at her, the soft glow of the TV reflecting in her eyes. “You’re not just here because of the song anymore. They like you. I… like having you around.”

Her eyes widened slightly at his admission, a soft smile forming on her lips. “I like being around you too, Jihoon.”

For a moment, the noise of the room faded, and it was just the two of them, sitting closer than either realized.

“Jihoon! Pass the popcorn!” DK’s voice broke the moment, and Jihoon blinked, quickly grabbing the bowl to hand over.

Y/N chuckled softly, leaning back into the couch. The warmth between them lingered, unspoken but undeniable.

As the weeks turned into months, their bond deepened. Whether it was through shared late-night studio sessions, casual dinners with the group, or quiet moments away from the chaos, Jihoon and Y/N found themselves drawn closer together.

And while neither of them said it out loud, they both knew that what had started as a simple duet had grown into something far more meaningful.

As time passed, Jihoon and Y/N’s bond became increasingly apparent to everyone around them. The other members of SEVENTEEN had a field day teasing Jihoon about it, though they were careful not to push him too far. Y/N, on the other hand, took it all in stride, her easygoing nature making her a natural fit within the group’s chaotic but loving dynamic.

One day, they found themselves in the studio late at night, working on a new song. The other members had already gone home, leaving just the two of them.

Y/N leaned over the desk, scrolling through the playlist Jihoon had prepared for inspiration. “This one’s good,” she said, pointing to a track.

Jihoon nodded, playing it without hesitation. The soft melody filled the room, and they both sat in comfortable silence, letting the music wash over them.

After a while, Y/N broke the quiet. “Do you ever think about what this all means? The music, the fans, everything we do?”

Jihoon looked at her, surprised by the sudden introspection. “All the time,” he admitted. “It’s why I work so hard. I want it to mean something—to leave something behind that matters.”

She smiled softly. “You already do. Your music touches so many people, Jihoon. Including me.”

He felt a warmth spread through him at her words. “What about you? What does it mean to you?”

Y/N took a moment to think before answering. “It’s about connection. Every lyric, every note… it’s a way to reach people, to let them know they’re not alone. I think that’s why I love working with you. You get that.”

For a moment, Jihoon was at a loss for words. Her sincerity, her openness—it was something he wasn’t used to but found himself drawn to.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “I don’t say this often, but… you’ve changed the way I look at things. Working with you—it’s made me realize how much more music can be when it’s shared.”

She looked at him, her eyes shining with gratitude. “You don’t know how much that means to me, coming from you.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, the weight of unspoken emotions filling the room. But before either of them could say more, Jihoon’s phone buzzed, breaking the moment.

The next morning, as they arrived at the practice room, the other members were already there. Hoshi immediately noticed the way Jihoon and Y/N seemed closer than usual.

“Did something happen last night?” he asked, his eyes darting between the two.

“Nothing happened,” Jihoon replied quickly, his ears turning pink.

Y/N, however, laughed. “We were just working on music. Don’t let your imagination run wild.”

The members didn’t buy it, but they let it go—for now.

Later that week, the group had a fan meeting, and Y/N was invited as a special guest to perform their duet live for the first time since its release. The fans erupted into cheers as Jihoon and Y/N took the stage together, their voices blending seamlessly as they sang.

During the performance, Jihoon couldn’t help but glance at Y/N, her presence radiating warmth and confidence. He realized that what had started as a professional partnership had grown into something far more personal.

After the performance, as they stood backstage, Y/N turned to Jihoon, her eyes sparkling. “That was incredible. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

Jihoon hesitated for a moment before replying. “Thank you… for everything.”

Y/N smiled, her hand lightly brushing his arm. And in that moment, Jihoon knew that whatever this was between them—friendship, partnership, or something more—he wasn’t ready to let it go.

A few days after their fan meeting, the duet performance went viral. Clips of Jihoon and Y/N on stage, their undeniable chemistry and harmonies, flooded social media. Fans couldn’t stop talking about how perfectly their voices blended and how natural their interactions seemed.

The buzz didn’t go unnoticed by SEVENTEEN.

“Have you seen the comments?” Seungkwan said, shoving his phone in front of Jihoon’s face during a break in practice.

Jihoon glanced at the screen, where fans had flooded the comments section with messages like:

“They’re perfect together!”

“Jihoon and Y/N need to release a whole album together!”

“Am I the only one who feels like there’s more to their story?”

Jihoon sighed, pushing the phone away. “It’s just the fans. They like to speculate.”

“But they’re not wrong,” Mingyu chimed in with a sly grin.

“Not you too,” Jihoon groaned.

That evening, Y/N visited the dorm for what was supposed to be a casual hangout. As usual, the members couldn’t help but stir the pot.

“So, Y/N,” Jeonghan started, leaning casually against the couch, “what’s it like being the most shipped person with Jihoon right now?”

Y/N nearly choked on her drink. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Hoshi said, joining in. “The fans are calling you the ‘power duo.’ Some are even saying you’re a better fit than us!”

“Don’t listen to them,” Jihoon muttered, his ears turning pink.

Y/N, recovering from her initial shock, laughed. “Well, I guess it’s a compliment? I mean, Jihoon is an incredible artist, so I’m honored.”

The room erupted in exaggerated “oohs,” with Seungkwan dramatically fanning Jihoon. “Did you hear that? She called you incredible!”

Jihoon buried his face in his hands, muttering, “Why do I even let you all talk?”

Despite the teasing, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at Y/N’s words. She always had a way of making him feel seen—not just as an artist but as a person.

Later that night, after everyone had settled down, Y/N and Jihoon found themselves alone on the dorm balcony, overlooking the city lights.

“It’s been a wild night, huh?” Y/N said, leaning against the railing.

Jihoon nodded, his gaze fixed on the skyline. “Yeah. I didn’t expect any of this when we started working together.”

“Me neither,” she admitted. “But I’m glad it happened. I’ve learned so much—not just about music but about myself.”

Jihoon glanced at her, his expression softening. “You’ve changed a lot of things for me, too. I didn’t realize how much I needed someone to remind me why I love what I do.”

Y/N looked at him, her heart skipping a beat at the vulnerability in his voice. “Jihoon… I—”

Before she could finish, the balcony door slid open, and Mingyu stuck his head out. “Hey, are you two having a moment? Because we’ve got snacks inside.”

Y/N burst out laughing, while Jihoon groaned. “You have the worst timing, Mingyu.”

Mingyu grinned. “That’s what I’m here for.”

As the night went on, the teasing and camaraderie continued, but something had shifted between Jihoon and Y/N. Though unspoken, there was an understanding growing between them—one that neither was ready to confront just yet but couldn’t deny any longer.

And as Jihoon watched Y/N laughing with his members, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something he’d been searching for without even realizing it.

The weeks passed, and Jihoon found himself unable to shake the feeling that had been slowly growing inside him. Every time Y/N smiled, every time their eyes met during a quiet moment, something in his chest fluttered. He had always been someone who let his music speak for him, but this time, it wasn’t enough just to express himself through lyrics. He needed to tell her, to be vulnerable in a way he hadn’t been with anyone before.

But how?

It was during a late-night studio session, after everyone else had left for the day, that Jihoon decided to do something about it. He had spent hours working on the song, tweaking the melody, perfecting the lyrics, and now it was ready.

The track wasn’t like anything he had made before. It was softer, more personal, and every note seemed to come straight from his heart. He had poured his feelings into it, capturing the emotions that he couldn’t say out loud. It was a love song. And the subject of it? None other than Y/N.

The next day, Jihoon invited Y/N to the studio under the guise of working on new material. She arrived, always eager to help or collaborate, but there was something different about Jihoon’s demeanor that caught her attention.

“What’s going on?” she asked as she walked into the studio. “You’ve been acting a little… off lately.”

Jihoon avoided her gaze, fiddling with the soundboard for a moment. “I… I have something I want to play for you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, curious. “A new song?”

He nodded, his throat tightening slightly. “Yeah. But it’s… different.”

Y/N walked over to him and sat down, her eyes fixed on him. “I’m all ears, Jihoon.”

Jihoon hesitated for a moment longer before hitting play. The soft, melodic intro filled the room, and Y/N was immediately drawn into the haunting beauty of the song. As the lyrics began, she felt a stirring in her chest. The song felt… personal. Deeply personal.

She listened intently, her heart racing as the chorus hit, and Jihoon’s voice filled the space:

“I didn’t know how to say it, but now I know it’s true, Every moment with you feels like I’ve found something new. In the silence, in the music, in the things I never said, I’m falling for you, I’m falling for you, And I can’t take it back.”

The song went on, each lyric pulling Y/N deeper into the emotions Jihoon had poured into it. By the end, the room was thick with the unspoken words hanging in the air. The music faded, and for a few moments, there was silence.

Y/N slowly turned to look at Jihoon, her eyes wide with realization. “Jihoon… that song…”

He swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s for you.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She had known there was something between them, something that had grown over time, but hearing him express it so clearly, through music, felt like a confession she hadn’t expected.

“Jihoon…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

He finally met her gaze, his eyes vulnerable in a way she had never seen before. “I’ve been trying to ignore it, trying to tell myself I was just… overthinking. But every time you’re near, every time you smile, it feels like something more. I think… I think I’ve fallen for you, Y/N. And I couldn’t hide it anymore. Not after writing this song for you.”

Y/N’s heart raced as she processed his words, her own emotions swirling within her. She had felt it too—the connection, the way everything felt more meaningful when they were together. But hearing him say it out loud made it all so real.

She took a step closer, her voice soft but steady. “I’ve been feeling the same way, Jihoon.”

His eyes widened, and he took a step toward her as well. “Really?”

She nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’ve been too afraid to admit it, but… I’ve been falling for you, too. Maybe I didn’t want to admit it because I didn’t know if you felt the same, but… I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

The tension that had built between them in the past few months suddenly lifted. Jihoon, overcome with relief and happiness, took her hand gently.

“Then… do you think we can figure this out together?” he asked softly.

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling. “I’d like that very much.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything else. The weight of the confession hung in the air, but the silence felt comfortable, like a shared understanding.

Jihoon squeezed her hand gently. “I don’t know what comes next, but I want to find out with you.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes shining. “Me too.”

And as they stood there, hand in hand, Jihoon knew that this song, the one that had started as a way to express his feelings, was just the beginning of a new chapter for them both.

For a few weeks, Jihoon and Y/N managed to keep their budding relationship under wraps. They weren’t intentionally hiding it, but neither of them was ready to face the whirlwind of teasing that would inevitably come from SEVENTEEN.

However, secrets rarely lasted long in a group as close-knit and nosy as SEVENTEEN.

It all started during a practice session. Jihoon had left his phone on the bench while the group worked through choreography, and a text from Y/N popped up on the screen:

Y/N: Can’t wait to see you tonight ❤️

Seungkwan, ever the observant one, noticed the notification first. “Oh? Hyung, care to explain this?” he asked, holding up the phone with a mischievous grin.

Jihoon froze mid-step, his face instantly turning crimson. “Give me that!” he snapped, rushing over to grab the phone.

But it was too late. Seungkwan had already shared the discovery with Hoshi and Jeonghan, who were now looking at Jihoon with matching expressions of glee.

“‘Can’t wait to see you tonight?’” Jeonghan teased, his tone dripping with mock innocence. “Jihoon, do you have plans we should know about?”

The rest of the group quickly caught on, gathering around as Jihoon struggled to come up with an excuse.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, shoving his phone into his pocket.

“Nothing?” Hoshi said, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds like something to me.”

“It’s Y/N, isn’t it?” Mingyu blurted out. The room went silent for a moment as everyone processed the possibility.

Jihoon sighed, realizing there was no escape. “Fine. Yes. It’s Y/N. We’re… dating.”

The room erupted into chaos.

“What?!” Seungkwan exclaimed, looking both shocked and delighted. “When did this happen?”

“Jihoon, you sly fox!” Jeonghan said, clapping him on the back.

“You’re dating Y/N, and you didn’t tell us?” Dino pouted. “I thought we were close!”

Jihoon groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, okay? It’s still new, and we didn’t want any unnecessary attention.”

Joshua, ever the voice of reason, stepped in. “Guys, let’s not overwhelm him. It’s Jihoon, after all. This must’ve taken a lot for him to admit.”

“Yeah,” DK added, grinning. “But seriously, Hyung, we’re happy for you. Y/N’s great.”

“She’s not just great,” Minghao said thoughtfully. “She fits in with us, and most importantly, she brings out a side of you we don’t see often. It’s nice.”

Jihoon looked around at his members, their teasing replaced with genuine support, and felt a wave of relief. “Thanks, guys. Just… keep it low-key, okay? We’re not ready for everyone to know yet.”

The group collectively agreed, though Jihoon wasn’t sure he trusted their definition of “low-key.”

That evening, Jihoon met Y/N at their usual spot in the studio. She could tell something was different as soon as he walked in.

“What happened?” she asked, tilting her head.

“They know,” Jihoon said, sitting beside her.

“Who knows?”

“SEVENTEEN,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Oh no. How bad was it?”

Jihoon chuckled despite himself. “About as chaotic as you’d expect. But… they’re happy for us. They promised to keep it a secret, though I don’t know how long that’ll last.”

Y/N smiled, reaching over to take his hand. “Well, I guess it was bound to happen. They’re your family, Jihoon. And honestly, I don’t mind if they know. I like being part of your world.”

Jihoon squeezed her hand, his heart swelling at her words. “You’re more than just part of it, Y/N. You’ve made it better.”

The next day, when Y/N visited the dorm for dinner, the teasing resumed, but it was all in good fun.

“So, Y/N,” Jeonghan said with a sly smile, “what’s it like dating our Jihoon? Is he as romantic as he is in his songs?”

Y/N laughed, glancing at Jihoon, who looked like he wanted to disappear. “He’s perfect,” she said simply, her sincerity making Jihoon’s face flush even more.

The room erupted into cheers and playful jabs, but beneath the chaos, there was a palpable warmth. SEVENTEEN was more than a group—they were a family. And now, Y/N was part of that family, too.

As the night wore on, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel grateful. For his members, for their unwavering support, and most of all, for Y/N, who had somehow become the piece he hadn’t realized was missing from his life.

A few weeks after SEVENTEEN’s comeback promotions wrapped up, Jihoon surprised fans with the announcement of a solo track, titled “Only for You.” The anticipation was palpable, especially after fans connected the dots between the mysterious teasers and Jihoon’s recent duet with Y/N.

When the song finally dropped, it was an instant hit. A tender and emotional ballad, the lyrics told the story of someone realizing they’ve found the one person who completes them. Jihoon’s heartfelt delivery struck a chord with listeners, but eagle-eyed fans noticed something peculiar.

The release coincided with a few subtle interactions between Jihoon and Y/N on social media. Comments like:

“This song feels so personal… is it inspired by someone special?”

“The vibe reminds me of Jihoon and Y/N’s duet. Are we missing something?”

“Wait a second… some of these lyrics feel like they match things Y/N said in interviews!”

The speculation ramped up a notch when, only a few days later, Y/N teased her own solo track, “Echo of You.”

When Y/N’s song dropped, fans were quick to notice that it felt like a reply to Jihoon’s. While Jihoon’s track spoke of falling for someone who brought light into his life, Y/N’s lyrics told the story of being seen and loved for who she truly was.

Lines like:

“I thought I was just a shadow, but your light made me shine.”

“Every melody you wrote felt like a message just for me.”

Fans flooded social media with theories.

“Wait, these songs feel connected. Are they… about each other?”

“Woozi's ‘Only for You’ and Y/N’s ‘Echo of You’ are like two sides of the same love story.”

“If this is real, I’ll cry. They’re perfect together!”

The speculation reached its peak when a fan-made mashup of the two songs went viral, seamlessly blending the tracks into a duet that felt like it was meant to be.

Back at SEVENTEEN’s dorm, the members couldn’t help but join the buzz.

“So,” Seungkwan started, holding up his phone, “the fans are catching on.”

Jihoon groaned, slumping onto the couch. “I knew this would happen.”

“I mean, they’re not wrong,” Jeonghan said, smirking. “The songs do sound like they’re talking to each other.”

Y/N, who had been invited over for dinner, sat beside Jihoon, trying (and failing) to suppress her laughter. “It’s kind of impressive how quickly they picked up on it.”

Joshua leaned forward, grinning. “Are you two going to say anything? Or just let the fans go wild with their theories?”

Jihoon glanced at Y/N, his expression thoughtful. “What do you think?” he asked her.

Y/N smiled softly. “I don’t mind letting them wonder for now. I like that the songs are just ours, even if people are curious.”

The members all groaned in mock frustration.

“You’re both too private for your own good,” Mingyu teased. “Just admit it already and save us the headache!”

“Admit what?” Jihoon shot back, feigning innocence.

“That you two are the main characters in the greatest musical love story ever told,” Hoshi declared dramatically, earning laughter from the group.

Despite the teasing, Jihoon and Y/N decided to keep quiet, letting their music speak for them. The buzz around their songs only grew, with both tracks climbing the charts and becoming fan favorites.

During a live Q&A, Jihoon was inevitably asked about the inspiration for “Only for You.”

“It’s about someone who changed the way I see the world,” he said simply, his expression soft.

When Y/N was asked a similar question about “Echo of You,” she smiled knowingly. “It’s a song about gratitude and love—for someone who helped me realize my worth.”

The fans didn’t need anything more. To them, the connection between the songs—and their creators—was obvious.

One evening, as they sat together in Jihoon’s studio, Y/N turned to him with a playful smile. “So, do you think they’ve figured it out yet?”

Jihoon chuckled, shaking his head. “I think they know. They’re just waiting for us to say it out loud.”

“And when do you think we should?” she asked, tilting her head.

Jihoon thought for a moment before replying, his voice warm. “Maybe someday. But for now, I like that the songs tell our story. It feels… special.”

Y/N leaned closer, her hand resting on his. “I like that too.”

The weeks following the dual song releases were a whirlwind. Both tracks dominated the charts, and the fan theories only grew more elaborate. Mashups, fan edits, and endless analysis filled the internet, with fans piecing together subtle interactions and shared moments.

Despite their best efforts to stay under the radar, the buzz became too loud to ignore. SEVENTEEN’s members didn’t make it any easier, constantly dropping playful hints during interviews and live streams.

One day, Jihoon and Y/N found themselves at a joint event where multiple HYBE artists were present. It was a casual, live-streamed Q&A session, and the energy in the room was lively. Fans flooded the chat with questions about collaborations, their music, and, of course, the connection between Jihoon’s and Y/N’s songs.

The host, clearly aware of the buzz, decided to address the elephant in the room.

“So, Woozi-shi and Y/N-shi,” they began, a mischievous glint in their eye. “The fans have been talking nonstop about how your songs seem… connected. Care to comment?”

Jihoon, caught off guard, glanced at Y/N. She met his gaze with a small, encouraging smile, her eyes silently asking, Are you ready?

He hesitated for a moment before leaning into the mic. “Well,” he started, his voice calm but tinged with nervousness, “the fans aren’t wrong. The songs are connected.”

The room fell silent for a moment, everyone—including the other artists—hanging on his every word.

Y/N chimed in, her tone light but honest. “We didn’t plan for it to be a big mystery. We just wrote from our hearts. And, well… our hearts were in the same place.”

The host’s eyes widened in realization. “Wait, are you saying—”

Jihoon nodded, cutting them off gently. “Y/N and I… we’re together. And the songs were our way of telling that story without saying it outright.”

The room erupted into applause, cheers, and a few playful whistles from SEVENTEEN and the other HYBE artists. The fans watching the live stream went wild, the chat filling with messages like:

“I KNEW IT!”

“This is the best plot twist ever!”

“Our musical power couple!”

Later that evening, Jihoon and Y/N sat together backstage, scrolling through the flood of messages on social media.

“Looks like the fans are taking it well,” Y/N said, laughing as she read a particularly enthusiastic comment.

Jihoon smiled, his shoulders relaxing for the first time in weeks. “I guess I shouldn’t have worried so much. They seem… happy for us.”

Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder. “Of course they are. We’ve been honest in the best way we know how—through our music.”

Jihoon wrapped an arm around her, his voice soft. “I’m glad we finally said it. It feels good not to hide anymore.”

She looked up at him, her eyes shining. “Me too.”

As the weeks passed, their relationship became a beloved story among fans. Jihoon and Y/N didn’t share much beyond their music and occasional glimpses of their dynamic, but their authenticity resonated with everyone.

Their next collaboration—a duet explicitly written as a continuation of their story—became one of the most anticipated releases of the year, cementing their status as not just two incredible artists but as a couple who had found love in the heart of their shared passion.

And as Jihoon often said in interviews, with a small, knowing smile: “It all started with a song.”

The announcement of Jihoon and Y/N’s relationship didn’t just excite fans; it gave SEVENTEEN endless new material to tease their usually reserved member. And, of course, they weren’t going to let the opportunity go to waste during their next content shoot.

The group was filming an episode of their popular variety show, “GOING SEVENTEEN,” and the theme for the day was a mock courtroom trial where members had to defend themselves against outrageous (and often ridiculous) accusations.

As the camera rolled, Jeonghan smirked, ready to unleash chaos. “Today, I bring a serious accusation against Jihoon,” he began, standing dramatically as the self-appointed prosecutor.

Jihoon, sitting at the “defendant’s” table, raised an eyebrow. “What now?”

Jeonghan held up an imaginary piece of paper, squinting at it for effect. “Jihoon, you’ve been accused of… secretly writing love songs instead of working on group projects. How do you plead?”

The room erupted in laughter, with Seungkwan clapping his hands. “Guilty! We all know it’s true!”

Jihoon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Is this really necessary?”

“Yes!” Hoshi chimed in, his grin practically splitting his face. “We’ve all noticed you humming random melodies lately. Are those for us, or… someone else?”

The teasing didn’t stop there. As the trial continued, the members took turns “presenting evidence.”

Mingyu dramatically placed a notebook on the table. “Exhibit A: Jihoon’s lyric book. Do we need to open it to find the word ‘Y/N’ written a hundred times?”

Dino jumped in, mimicking an investigator. “Exhibit B: The way Jihoon smiles at his phone during breaks. Suspicious behavior if you ask me.”

Even the usually quiet Wonwoo joined in. “Exhibit C: The recent duet with Y/N. We all heard it. It’s basically a confession set to music.”

By this point, Jihoon’s face was a deep shade of red, though he couldn’t help but chuckle.

During a break in filming, Joshua leaned over to Jihoon. “You know, they’re only teasing because they’re happy for you, right?”

“I know,” Jihoon replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But they’re relentless.”

“Hey, it’s good content,” Joshua said with a wink. “The fans will love it.”

Later in the shoot, the tables turned when it was Jihoon’s chance to act as the judge. He banged the gavel dramatically. “I have an accusation of my own,” he announced, his tone firm but playful.

The members gasped in mock horror.

“I accuse SEVENTEEN of being the nosiest group in the industry,” Jihoon declared, pointing at them one by one. “Always prying, always teasing. How do you plead?”

“Guilty!” Seungkwan shouted, raising his hands in surrender. “But we do it out of love!”

Hoshi stood up, grinning. “Your Honor, I’d like to counter-accuse. Jihoon is guilty of smiling more these days. We all know the reason why.”

The room burst into laughter once again, and Jihoon couldn’t help but shake his head, a reluctant smile on his face.

As the shoot wrapped up, the director praised the group for their energy and humor. The episode, once edited, was full of golden moments that had fans laughing and cooing over SEVENTEEN’s antics.

And while Jihoon might have been the butt of the jokes, the camaraderie and genuine affection from his members shone through.

In the comments section of the uploaded episode, fans were quick to notice the playful dynamic:

“SEVENTEEN teasing Jihoon about Y/N is peak family energy!”

“Jihoon trying to act annoyed but secretly loving it is so cute.”

“The way they all support him in their own chaotic way makes me emotional.”

That evening, as Jihoon returned to his studio, his phone buzzed with a message from Y/N:

Y/N: Saw the episode preview. They’re so obvious, lol.

Jihoon smiled, typing back:

Jihoon: They’re impossible. But at least they’re on our side.

Y/N: Always. And so am I.

As he leaned back in his chair, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel grateful—not just for Y/N, but for the family he’d found in SEVENTEEN.

Even if they never let him live it down.

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glitter-stained · 2 days ago

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Another day another ask mysteriously disappearing from my inbox when i'm about to hit post on the reply

Anyway the question was basically "what do you think of the "Jason isn't able to get over his death while bruce is capable of forgiving joe chill and sitting by him as he dies" take and doesn't it sound a little like the "everybody died he ain't special " take?"

Why yes. Yes it does sound like that. My thoughts on that idea, in no particular order:

- it's almost 2025 are we still placing moral judgement on characters based on the comparison between how they're enduring their trauma what happened to the universal singularity of human suffering what happened to not comparing apples and bananas weren't we taught not to do that in elementary school

-Is this about the Three Joker comics? It sounds like it is, anyway uh that comics is not mainline (and has pretty shitty writing imo), in mainline even in his least flattering runs (ie Battle for the Cowl) Jason hasn't gone postal because of his death in a while (in BTFC it was Bruce's death and the mention of the "unresolved dark horrors of his childhood" triggering a bad parody of some sort of psychotic break) so like i guess criticizing Jason for something he isn't doing is kinda strange

-if anything Bruce is the one "not over" Jason's death considering the flashback he had right at the beginning of Failsafe arc (though of course demanding he just gets over the trauma of holding his dead son's corpse is just as absurd as demanding Jason gets over the trauma of having died)

-honestly staying by Chill's side as he died was pretty cool and heroic on Bruce's part, totally agreed, that was badass of him to not let him die alone despite his trauma. That being said can we please stop tying morality to the concept of forgiveness? Implying there's a goodness of heart to forgiving/getting over your trauma is weird, it way too puch pressure on the victim, we should stop with the "good victim/bad victim" narrative, martyrdom culture is harmful. If forgiving Chill helped Bruce, cool for him, Jason is in no obligation to forgive Joker, and also Bruce forgiving Chill =/= staying by his side as he died, those are two separate things

-if we're comparing coping we have to compare resources, what does Jason's support system at that time compared to Bruce? Should we make a tally to see who has more friends especially close ones? We both know who will win but also that it's a completely stupid and pointless arrangement, how many apples and oranges must we compare before we conceptualize that it's not the same fruit?

-in terms of personal taste, I find placing moral judgement on characters is about the least interesting analysis angle I can imagine, like, congrats, you've established Angel McPerfect is a better person than Asshole McInteresting! Now multiply me by one and subtract zero.

-kinda hilarious to criticise Jason for not getting over his death and compare that to the coping of a man who dresses as a bat to cope with something that happened thirty years ago. Like if he's so over his trauma why is he wearing pointy ears

-also, obviously, the idea that characters should just "get over their trauma" is insanely dumb. Trauma is like a wound. It can scar, if treated properly, and then the scar will always be there. Imagine telling someone they should get cosmetic surgery because "we get it, you got stabbed, you don't have to shove it in my face every time I look at you." Or telling someone whose wound got infected "why can't you be more like this guy? Look, his stab wound is all healed nice and clean by now. It's like you're not even trying !"

Anyway I hope that answers your question and you have a good day anon, I agree with you that that take is weird, I truly don't understand the reasoning beside "i don't like jason". Idk maybe these people just need to...chill.

#ngl sometimes i get ask that are a blatant invitation to talk shit #and i'm like sure yk what i can talk shit with you #also call me the joker cause that pun was fucking terrible #dc #jason todd #dc comics #red hood #ask #batman #batman three jokers? maybe

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hiraizyo · 1 day ago

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we can go another round, maybe to a new altitude.

synopsis — having megan a whimpering mess underneath you was a craving that couldn’t be satiated.

smut, overstimulation, crying, mature language, sub!megan, reader being cruel, dirty talk (if you squint), praising.

now playing: altitude, montell fish.

a/n: ehhh i don’t really write smut that much so i hope this’ll do, happy reading!

"fuck! please, please…”

megan’s voice quivered ever so slightly once your fingers curled inside her, eyes screwed shut. her bottom lip was caught between her teeth, biting down softly as she attempted to quieten her moans.

your hand was dipped between her legs, drawing circles around her bundle of nerves, teasing her entrance every now and then.

her body was flushed, hot and sweaty. there was heat radiating off her from the past few hours of sex, her number of orgasms by now lost in her head.

you chuckled darkly, "did we learn our lesson today, darling?"

"yes, yes…” she panted, nodding rapidly. her hand moved to grip your wrist, prompting you to move faster with whatever strength she had left.

your mouth watered at the sight of her, messy hair all around the pillow, her chest rising and falling rapidly. liquid was gushing out of her, your fingers enveloped by her velvety walls. it was almost enough to make you want to forgive her.

she knew better than to make you jealous, but megan was always pushing your buttons, loving the way you fucked her as retaliation.

“i wonder what your friends would think — you, on the verge of crying, begging me like the little slut you are."

she practically dripped at the filth in your words, squeezing around your fingers. megan could feel the knot in her stomach tightening, awaiting release, awaiting the pleasure that would soon wash over her body.

she was close, so close.

megan could feel it, and she knew you could too judging by the way your thumb rubbed over her clit. the circular motion caused her hips to stutter, breath caught in her throat. you gripped her hip with your other hand, holding her down.

her head falls back against the pillow, hips rolling, eyes fluttering shut. she was lost in the ecstasy.

“oh, god!”

the feeling was unlike any other when she finally had her release, the coil in her lower stomach letting loose as she came all over your hand. you helped ride out her high, slowing down your movements.

the ginger’s hand moved up to rest her palm on her forehead, her breathing was labored as she swallowed dryly.

“you’re being such a good girl for me, megs.” you told her, the praise making her feel even more lightheaded than she already was.

she sent a tired smile your way, looking up at you with flushed cheeks and a dazed look in her eyes. she watched her movements, seeing you lick your hand clean. then, she tried to move way once she saw you moving your head downwards.

“think you can give me another?”

megan shook her head violently, “t-too much!”

“aw, come on angel.” you took a long lick up her walls, megan moaning at the feeling. her hips rolled against your mouth. despite her mind going against your request, her body had a different reaction.

you kissed her inner thigh, then biting down softly on the flesh. “what happened to being my little plaything?”

megan tried to gather her thoughts, but her mind was clouded with the aftermath of her orgasm, still coming down.

“still am,” she whimpered, tingles going up her body when she felt your hand trace on her hips. “just need a moment.”

“ah uh, no can do.” the smirk on your lips sent a jolt straight to megan’s core, knowing what was coming next. “you will take it.”

the chinese girl barely had a chance to nod in response before she felt your lips on her, licking and sucking harshly. you tongue dipped into her hole, nose bumping against her clit. the sensation had her letting out a cry of pleasure.

as you continued your ministrations, megan knew you were going into overdrive. tears appeared at the bottom of her eyes, threatening to fall. her whimpers were like music to your ears, feeling pride swell in your chest at the fact that it was you having her act like this.

her legs were place placed over your shoulders, heels digging into your back. megan’s hand moved down to your head, tangling her fingers in your hair.

you moaned against her, the vibrations brining her closer to the edge of release. her cries were nothing but louder than ever, throat feeling raw from all the screaming she’d done.

her muscles began to tense up, and you knew that she was close to cumming again. megan’s whole body was shaking, the tears running down her cheeks at the pain and pleasure.

“i-i can’t… fuck, yn.” she whined, tugging on your hair. the overstimulation was getting to her, while you relished in having a taste of her.

it didn’t take long before megan’s orgasm hit her, taking control of her body and mind. her eyes screwed shut, she moaned loudly, gasping and letting out shuttered breaths. you lapped at the juices that leaked out of her, taking as much as you possibly could.

you placed a kiss to her clit making her shiver. slowly moving her legs carefully off your shoulder, you kissed up her body until you reached her lips. your hands were on either side of her, settling your body above hers.

the kiss was filled with passion, megan tasting herself on her lips while you tasted the salty tears. pulling away, you smiled down at her.

“you did so well, my love.”

tucking a few pieces of hair behind her ear, you looked in her eyes with such love that she couldn’t even believe how evil you were being to her a second ago. she hummed, peering up at hazily you, too fucked out to say anything back.

you kissed her nose, then her cheek, and all over her face until you reached jaw and neck. megan’s nails hand scratched the base of your neck where your baby hairs were, giggling at the tickling sensation of your kisses.

“come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” you told her, getting off the bed and gently lifting her up, carrying her into the bathroom where you’d draw her a bath.

lol whatever this is…

quick post while i take a break and think of other fun stuff to write, since i have a sophia imagine in mind <3 but i fear the megan obsession is getting to me

#katseye #megan skiendiel #megan x reader #katseye imagines #x reader #gxg #girlgroup #smut

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vainilladollie · 22 hours ago

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fruitcake track 5; is it new years yet?

pairing ; shy!matt x fem!reader

summary ; matt and you had a fight on new year’s morning, so you decide to apologise by making him feel good.

warning(s) ; mdni. smut. oral | blow job (m!receiving) established relationship. makeup blow job. semi public sex. creampie. me writing after months be sweet or i’ll end crying (IM SERIOUS) ik the song it’s sad BUT im ovulating so leave me alone please AND OMG THE SANTA PART IS SO GOOD??? genuinely this song makes me wanna dance

❛ december is a prison

it just makes me miss him

is it new years yet?

im gettin' bored, so can we skip ahead? ౨ৎ

“shh..kay?” you said pressing your index finger against matt's lips, who would have babbled a thousand gibberish in the last 4 minutes, in which you managed to drag him to the guest bathroom, after unzipping his jean, you pulled his pants down using the car keys he never seemed to put away; always hanging on his pants or belt.

“matty..” you murmured softly forming a smile as your hand massaged his noticeable bulge. “doll...? w-we shouldn’t be doin' thi-” matt said as he nervously glanced at his watch, it would soon be new year and they would probably notice you two were missing. “matt, listen! im really..sorry” you said as you left a kiss on the tip of matt's cock, your hand around pumping his length, licking the traces of pre-semen, slowly you began to suck the tip; to slowly continue to move forward, leaning back with your hand still holding his dick, giggling at matt's nervous babbling.

“are you gonna forgive me?” you asked separating yourself for a moment from his probably aching cock, matt let out a moan, his hands shyly bringing your face closer to his member, immediately taking the opportunity and getting the message, you let your tongue start swirling again around his shaft, going all the way down you just could keep moving your head, bobbing up and down faster, synchronized, matt looked at you with his lips slightly parted his heart beating faster as such a beautiful sigh. spit dribbles down your chin, your lips stretched obscenely around his girth, so pretty just for him, you were hurrying as matt helped you with his hands, his breathing was getting more and more agitated, in a quick movement you broke away and looked at matt, trying to heard to what he was saying.

“doll...im..” matt started but you quickly began to ask awkwardly before he could finish his phrase. “so, you forgive me, m-” but before you could finish matt pushed your face against him, and all his discharge crashed against your lips, and immediately, matt panicked. “i...fuck, let me help you” matt said pulling up his pants, wiping your face with a wet towel, totally preoccupied, but you just asked, “is it new years yet?” maybe he already forgive you.

۫ ꣑ৎ bella little message ; ik this song is supposed to be sad, but i have cold and im ovulating so ur asking me too much, ofc cindy lou who, is gonna be SAD as fuck, dw!! sorry if this is bad or something :( love you for reading this btw!

© vainilladollie ; all work is owned by me. please do not copy, translate or transfer my work to any other blogs or sites and do not claim as your own. drivers are mine, don’t use them at least ur giving me the credit. love u to the moon, xx.

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queenmelancholy · 7 months ago

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Guys, I have written my first fanfic ever! And it’s about Thomas Barrow! Yayyy! This is the AO3 link. Please read it if you have time and tell me what you think :)

Title: "I'm Home."

Summary: It was July 1930 and Thomas was revisiting Downton Abbey. He had been homesick for a while in America under the pressure of being half exposed to the limelight and found himself missing his family back at Downton. He dealt with his belonging issues and nostalgia during the journey.

Characters: Thomas Barrow, Guy Dexter, Charles Carson, Elsie Hughes, Beryl Patmore, Daisy Mason, Anna Bates, John Bates, Phyllis Baxter, Mary Crawley, Robert Crawley, Cora Crawley, George Crawley, Sybbie Branson

Word count: 2807

Thomas wasn’t sure about how he should feel as he walked down the stairs to the servant’s hall for the first time in two years. He wasn’t wearing his livery anymore. Deep down he was thrilled to tell everyone how much he had seen in America. But he felt ashamed of boasting to those who used to work alongside him. After all, he was the most bitter about Branson and Gwen when they found happier lives with their socially superior partners. Thomas knew that Guy saw him as equal, but still, the similarities laid bare. He felt awkward about this.

Guy repeatedly told him not to worry. They were his family and there was no reason why anyone would not be happy for him. But Thomas reminded himself that it was not true. It couldn’t be. How could Mr. Carson give him a warm smile he so craved like he wanted from his own father, when this man thought Thomas deserved to be horsewhipped? How would Mr. Bates congratulate him, when he violently smashed Thomas against the wall and called him a filthy little rat? How could Mr. Moseley care a bit about how he was doing now, when he seemed so annoyed by Thomas when he was struggling to even face himself? People just wouldn’t be easy on him, even after all these years. And Thomas knew himself was the one to blame.

Although people said they were his “family” for twenty years, he couldn’t bring himself to believe it. He owed them a heartfelt apology for what he had said and done. They owed him their apologies, too. Thomas didn’t know why he couldn’t just say sorry to them the day he left the house. Things would’ve been much easier if he did. But he wasn’t sure whether they’d do the same if he had said then - it was probably why he didn’t say it in the end. Deep inside, he was still angry with them. He had been angry all along.

Perhaps some things were just destined to be wrong and left unresolved. Why would he expect anything different now?

During the two years in America, Thomas had followed Guy everywhere to film and do publicity. Guy’s friends were all very nice and welcoming. Thomas got close to a few of them through their cricket matches every week. He enjoyed spending time with this small circle of friends as well as his private time with Guy in their house.

Nevertheless, Thomas was very much aware that the journalists had suspected his relationship with Guy from the start. It was true that America was an open society and most people were friendly towards them, but Thomas wasn’t very comfortable with being in the limelight. Newspapers would make up fake stories about him and Guy for gossip, and he disliked it. Every now and then, he would see his face in some local tabloid, and passers-by would sometimes give him the side-eye. He felt judged all the time, like his private life was put on the table for everyone to see, and they only saw him as that. Thomas found himself in this peculiar situation where he had to keep his mouth shut about an open secret, one that was known by millions of people. He didn’t even know how to behave in public anymore.

Surely he loved Guy a lot, and he knew Guy loved him as much, if not more. But sometimes he just felt a bit tired of hiding behind the name of a dresser. And all these people who didn’t really know them would talk about them behind their back, saying things that weren’t true. Although he had Guy with him, Thomas just felt more lonely being surrounded by all these strangers in the strange city.

Thomas’s depression was slowly taking over him again. Sometimes he couldn’t sleep at night. He missed home. He wanted to talk to Mrs. Hughes about the things that were troubling him. He knew she would pat him on the shoulder and say no worries, all things would be fine. He wanted to open up to Phyllis about his insecurities and she would give him the wisest advice; he wanted to chit chat with Daisy about the silly little things, argue with Mrs. Patmore, play with the children, and many more things. He even missed Bates as his sparring partner. Thomas just needed someone who actually knew him, from when he was that spiteful young boy and watched him grow into this mature man.

He knew the people back at Downton wouldn’t hurt him, not anymore. They were his family. He was safe with them. He knew it at last, but it might be too late to admit that.

One day, Thomas just couldn’t hold it in anymore. In tears, he told Guy he was homesick. Guy was very worried if he was not doing enough to make Thomas feel at home. But Thomas reassured him that it was not his fault - in fact Guy was the only reason why he hadn’t fallen apart till now. Thomas blamed himself for being a coward who just knew how to run away from his problems, like he did during the war and many other times. He didn’t even have enough determination and perseverance to make a new life of his own.

“That’s not true,” Guy told him, “Look how far you’ve come already. You have been through a lot. I know. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever known. If anyone had told me that there’s this nice bloke named Thomas Barrow who had been put through the wringer like this, I would think they were writing the protagonist for their upcoming production.” Guy laughed a little and pretended to contemplate, “Hmmm… if so, that character would be so challenging to play.”

Thomas kept looking at the ground. He blinked his eyes in silence before he mumbled, “Then that film would be a blockbuster. But I bet you couldn’t play the role.” He slowly smiled, “And you’d have to be really lucky to get a ticket for it.” They looked at each other and giggled.

“Yeah, that character would certainly be a legend. And I’m glad to know him,” Guy replied satisfyingly.

Finally, he persuaded Thomas to go back to Downton for a week to catch up with the Crawleys and their staff. Guy’s filming schedule was packed so he couldn’t travel with him. Out of guilt, Guy offered to pay for the travelling expenses and bought Thomas his commercial plane tickets. Thomas was reluctant at first but he eventually gave in to the temptation to fly for the first time in his life. Before he boarded the plane, he once again thanked Guy for what he did for him and promised to get better soon.

As he flew across the Atlantic, Thomas couldn’t help but think about Richard’s words, “Fifty years ago, who’d have thought man could fly?” Well, he was flying now. And he felt simultaneously happy and sad about it. What would Richard be doing now? Did Jimmy finally get settled down? Was Edward watching from heaven and being happy for him? Thomas looked out the window and tears ran silently down his cheeks.

Soon he arrived in London and travelled north to Yorkshire by train. The scenery gradually changed from city to countryside, and Thomas became more relaxed as he was surrounded by nature. The wind blew through his face and loose hair. He could smell the freshness of the grass and see the blue wide sky. It was a beautiful sunny day.

Once Thomas planned to visit Downton a month ago, he wrote to Mary as a courtesy. He didn’t want to make it a big deal to the downstairs lot so he kindly asked Mary not to tell anyone else. Mary understood that and agreed to keep it secret. Thomas knew that in fact she was excited to see everybody’s surprised faces when he appeared out of the blue. Yes, Lady Mary would be so. Thomas thought to himself and smiled a little.

His ride back to the Abbey went smoothly and everything along the road was familiar, only that he no longer needed to walk the long way on foot. Time seemed to have paused in the village. Thomas could almost see his younger self stepping out of the post office after sending that telegram to Philip. It was like yesterday. How could these places still look the same while so many things had already changed? He thought of William and Matthew, as well as Ethel and Lady Sybil. He felt sorry for them. “I’m the one who got away.” “Gives hope to us all.” The days when they were here were long gone, but had they ever really left? Thomas suddenly felt overwhelmed by his complicated feelings towards this place he called home. Perhaps part of him had never left, too.

When Thomas arrived at the Abbey and rang the bell, it was Mr. Carson who opened the door. They were both stoned and stared at each other for longer than usual. Thomas surely expected Carson, but he wasn’t prepared to see this tight-lipped wrinkled man with a head of grey hair standing in front of him. Was Carson this old when he left? He couldn’t remember clearly. Carson was equally shocked. The troubled man that he once supervised suddenly turned up as a guest to the house he managed. Didn’t he finally get rid of Thomas after he met the movie star? Carson shrugged as he recalled that. But he had been reminiscing about the downstairs life with Thomas’s cheeks lately - it was too peaceful without the naughty boy in the servant’s hall. It was somehow boring. Carson was surprised that he would find himself missing Thomas Barrow - like a strict father missing his difficult son. At times he would tell himself that maybe Thomas had found his happiness out there, so there was no need to worry.

“Mr. Carson, it’s nice to see you.”

“You never fail to surprise us, Mr. Barrow.”

They stood at the front door, both a little unsettled. “Who’s that?” Asked Lady Grantham from inside. “We have been visited by an old friend, My Lady.” Carson raised his eyebrows as he couldn’t believe these words came out of his own mouth. Neither could Thomas, who remembered clearly how he was greeted last time he entered through the front door as acting sergeant. Carson and Thomas nodded politely at each other before they went into the house. Thomas exhaled a deep breath of relief.

Both Lord and Lady Grantham were very much amazed by Thomas’s visit. They were eager to know how their former footman-turned-butler had been doing these two years. So they had a short conversation about Thomas’s life in America, and Robert seemed a bit too excited as he told Thomas about how it reminded him of his Eton days. Carson couldn’t control his eyebrows, while Mary cheerfully watched on and gave Thomas knowing looks at certain points.

It was afternoon, the servants had been working on their chores at different corners of the house. So Carson went off to summon them all before Thomas entered the basement. He wondered what Carson would have told them.

Meanwhile, Thomas used the time to revisit his old room in the attic. No one used it after he’d left. He noticed how humble his room was compared with the luxurious room he shared with Guy. The furniture was still in place but it had lost its warmth as there were no traces of living any longer. A layer of dust had formed on the surfaces of his old cabinet and desk. Thomas felt strange. He remembered Dryden Park, the run down estate of Sir Michael Reresby. Would this room ever be used again? Was he its last occupant? What would it become in a hundred years’ time? Thomas sighed and took a last look at his room for eighteen years. He said goodbye to it and closed the door lightly behind him.

After a while, Thomas found himself descending the stairs to the servant’s hall. He felt his heart beating faster as he got closer to the bottom. When he was almost there, Thomas caught a glimpse of the framed writings hanging above the entrance to the servant’s hall - “Watch and Pray.” He was relieved that it was still there. He changed it when he was the butler. Thomas remembered how for fifteen years he walked past the former one every day that said “Trust in the Lord,” and couldn’t help but feel betrayed by God and everyone. He was furious then. But now Thomas was glad that he had grown into a better man and there was no need to be bitter anymore.

Suddenly Thomas heard Anna’s voice from the servant’s hall, “Be quiet! Mr. Barrow might hear.”

“Oh, I can’t wait! Mrs. Patmore, just come and sit down!” Daisy was apparently in an exciting mood, and what on earth was Mrs. Patmore doing?

“I just want to make sure it looks perfect.”

“It’s very beautiful, Mrs. Patmore. I’m sure Thomas will appreciate it.” It seemed even Mr. Bates was here to welcome him. Thomas thought for a moment about what snarky things he could say to Bates. No, he wouldn’t do that, not today.

“Mr. Barrow may be here any time soon. You get ready now,” Mrs. Hughes said softly. Who was she talking to?

Thomas had anticipated this moment for a month. He kept thinking of his guilt and how to make apologies. Things might have improved, but at the bottom of his heart he still thought they didn’t like him as much as other servants. And he could not fully embrace them for how they treated him in the past. Their misunderstanding towards him could perhaps never change. How could he truly belong here? Or anywhere? But the strange conversation just now might hint that things were not as bad as he’d thought. After all, they were the only people in this world who really knew him. So Thomas plucked up his courage and stepped into the servant’s hall.

Three shadows rushed forward and hugged him around the waist. “Mr. Barrow!!!” The children shouted with joy. “We missed you a lot,” little George said softly as his big blue eyes looked up at Thomas. Oh god, these children had grown so much. George was almost reaching Thomas’s shoulders. Sybbie was already a young lady and Thomas could see Lady Sybil in her. Marigold was with her parents in London, but Thomas missed her nonetheless. The third little one was Johnny, who was always joyous and nothing like his father, much to Thomas’s delight. It was great that the children had not forgotten him. In fact, they couldn’t be happier to see him.

Thinking of it, Thomas’s eyes began to well up and his face turned red. “Alright now,” Mrs. Hughes said to the children, “let go of Mr. Barrow or you will choke him out.” They laughed and Thomas noticed something on the dining table. It was a beautifully decorated chocolate brownie cake - Thomas’s favourite. “It was intended for the family’s afternoon tea today. But I asked if we could use it instead and Lady Grantham kindly agreed,” Mrs. Patmore explained.

Thomas couldn’t believe it all. Why? Was this their apology after all these years? Had he been wrong about them all along?

He couldn’t look up at them but smiled shyly, “Thank you very much. Thanks for this warm reception. You don’t need to do this. I’m not worthy of it.”

“Don’t say that, Thomas,” Daisy said, “We’ve all missed you. And your mischief, of course.”

“I really don’t deserve any of this…” Thomas could no longer contain his tears and started to cry. The children couldn’t understand what was happening. They grabbed his hand and looked with worried eyes. “Why are you sad, Mr. Barrow?” Sybbie asked, “Tell us and we will find ways to help you.” Thomas cried even harder. He couldn’t control himself.

“Mr. Barrow is just too happy,” Phyllis tried to explain it for him, “He has missed us as much as we missed him. So he is very happy to see us all at once now. Aren’t you, Mr. Barrow?” She approached him and offered him her handkerchief.

“Yes, I am,” Thomas said as he wiped his tears, “I’m just too happy to see you all again.” There was no need for other words.

Everyone’s eyes slowly turned teary as they smiled with contentment and joy. One thing was sure - Thomas was very much missed and loved here around the servant’s table. They didn’t know it before, neither did he. But now the big boy had come home.

“Welcome back, Thomas.”

Thomas smiled and replied softly, “I’m home.”

#thomas barrow #downton abbey #fanfic #guy dexter #downton abbey 3 #please forgive me if my writing is not good #this is my first attempt at creative writing since 12 #and english is not my first language #but I love this character so much I can’t help myself #I really like the idea of thomas revisiting downton but I have worries about the third film #so I wrote this in case they don't show it #hope you guys like it!#mine

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zer0pm · 1 year ago

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Imagine having dated Luis Serra in the past only to be reunited with him literally chained to you.

“Another late night?”

A sigh. “Sí. Wesker wants another update on the new medicine my team is developing.”

“Didn’t you just send him a report about it this morning?”

“My thoughts exactly. But people like him, they’ll push because they can and keeping pushing until they get what they want.”

“Sounds familiar.”

The man stops typing away for a moment to turn and wink at you. “You like it when I push.”

You chuckle lightly in turn and pull up a seat next to Luis. The researcher welcomes you at his side, instinctively placing his hand upon your knee as soon as you settled onto the chair. His fingers dance upon the fabric of your pants, caressing the warm skin beneath while his other hand returns to the keyboard.

There is a tired expression upon his handsome face as he focuses back on the computer screen, but the tugged up smirk on his lips and the relaxed gleam in his beautiful grey eyes that appeared in the wake of your presence of you was unmistakable.

“It’s going to be awhile,” he says, a soft lull in his voice. “You should go home and get some sleep, mi corazon.”

You shake your head, returning him a gentle smile of your own. “I’ll wait, Luis. I don’t mind.”

“Can’t rest unless we’re in bed together?”, he says with a wag of his brows.

You quip back playfully, “We wouldn’t even rest if we’re in bed together.”

The Spaniard hums thoughtfully. “That’s a tempting thought. I better hurry up, then.” He leans his head against yours. “Pero, seriously. I don’t want to make you wait.”

A comforting hand reaches over to affectionately squeeze his muscles arm, “It’s fine. Stop worrying. As long as I’m with you, Luis, I’m happy.”

You feel him nod. The growing hairs along his fine jaw, softly scratching against your head. “Yo tambien. What is the expression, we’re… attached to the hip?”

“Practically chained together you and I.”

“Keep distracting me with ideas like that and we’ll never leave this place.”

—-

A deafening ring scratches against your ear drums, a dim light shines a dull pain in your eyes, and rusted metal scratches against your wrists. All these sensations awoke you gradually, a slow rude awakening. You’ve barely a moment to gather your wits and take in your surroundings before a familiar voice catches your attention.

“¿Estás bien? Are you hurt?”

It’s Luis, he sounded slightly disgruntled, but it did little to hide his evident concern for you.

You instinctively shake your head. “No. No, I think I’m okay. You?”

“Could be worse. Better than being in a musty burlap sack. And this time, I am in the presence of good company.”

Always the charmer. Some people just do not change, and when it came to Luis, that thought puts you at ease.

The last thing you remembered before coming to was finding Luis tied up in some basement. Leon was there, and another man, large and imposing, who approached the three of you unannounced. There were gunshots, and you recall a massive fist connecting with your head. That’s gonna bruise…

You look overhead to see your wrists clapped in irons and a pair of strong arms dangling alongside yours.

“Guess we ended up chained together, afterall.”

You feel Luis’ back slightly shaking against yours, a low chuckle rumbling from his throat. “I admit, this isn’t how I imagined it to be like either.” After a slight pauses, he sighs and calls you by name. “Pleasant talk aside, not that I’m not happy to see you again because… admittedly… I am- But what are you even doing here?”

You shrug. “Oh, you know. The views.”

The Spaniard scoffs. “Falsa. You’re a terrible liar. Always have been.”

Again, you deflect. “And what about you, Luis? This doesn’t exactly look like a cozy spot for a vacation.”

“I live here. Within the village. The house you found me under? Casa de mi infancia. My childhood home. It was, anyways, before…”

He paused. For a moment that felt like an eternity, he said nothing. It unsettled you.

“…Luis?”

He shifts a little behind you at your voice before a what sounded like a defeated sigh escapes his lips. “Joder. I was conducting research,” the man began. “After leaving Umbrella, I came back here to treat the villagers from a disease that has plagued them for a long time. Back then, it was bad. But now, it is much, much worse than when I left many years ago. I tried to help, but as you can see, I’ve had little success.”

Now it was your turn to fall silent. That was a lot to take in. After separating from Luis all those years ago, you continued to keep tabs on him. You made the excuse that you were simply monitoring his movements in case you were able to gather more information about Umbrella, but really, you just wanted to make sure he was okay. The last time you two spoke… it did not go well. And when he went off the radar, you thought the worst but never gave up searching. To say you were relieved to see him again and learn that he still practiced medicine for the benefit of others was an understatement. You feared that he may have gone off the deep end and we’re glad that you were wrong.

Luis speaks up when you said nothing. “Suppose it’s a good thing that you didn’t come here with me, after all.”

You pondered over what to say. There was plenty. You wanted to tell him that you missed him. That you thought about him every day. That you ended things between you two for his sake. But they all failed to reach your throat. Instead, you opt for a different truth. One that he deserves.

“I work for the government.”

When he doesn’t speak right away, you mentally prepared yourself for his anger and disappointment. You expected him to fly off in a rage and curse you a thousand times over, reproaching you for failing to come to him with this from the beginning. You expected him to question if your time together, if your feelings shared were genuine, and you were prepared to confirm that you and him were real. Instead, as often as Luis does, he surprises you.

“I know.”

You blink, your words faltering for a second. “Y-You know? What do you mean ‘you know?’ When- How-”

“After you left me. I did a little digging- on my own… and I learned some things.” He shifts to his feet and you followed suit, meeting his eyes. Despite their cold hue, his words came out warmly. You detect a hint of anxiousness from him. “I know why you did what you did, mi amor. Just wished you would have told me.”

Your heart flutters unmistakably from his term of endearment for you. You had to force your eyes down so as not to have your emotions betrayed to him even though it was already pointless at this point.

“I couldn’t…”

“I know.” Those little words again. “Still would have been nice to hear them, anyway. Well, perhaps not “nice”- Pero, it would have been ideal to try to work it out together.”

“Would you have wanted to at that point?” The question left you before you could bite it back.

Luis’ eyes sparkled at the almost hopeful tone in your voice. “With you, I want to do everything.”

This man is too good to be real. You wanted to hug him then and there, to pour out every apology known to man, to beg his forgiveness and declare your love for him. But the chains around your hands and the fear of rejection prevented you from doing so. However, the way Luis looked at you told you everything you needed to know, told you everything he felt and still feels for you, and you only hoped that your eyes said the same. Still, being one that wishes to validate their intentions, you opened your mouth.

Luis stops you. “Shh! You hear that?”

You focus your senses, trying to identify what he’s talking about. And sure enough, the distinct sound of garbled, inhuman groans reaches both of your ears. Your fists clench and your body tenses instinctively. This time, not of fear, but in disciplined alarm, ready to face any threat that dared to come your way. Luis picks up your stance instantly, a flash of amusement and admiration in his grey gaze.

“Now, despite my impressive physique, I’m actually not much of a fighter. So, would you…?”

You switch places with him before he could even finish his sentence, minding the chain that connected you both. The tall man reflexively shivers beneath your touch and as you left a hand lingering upon chest in a protective manner, he didn’t move away.

“Stay behind me and keep your distance.” You ordered sternly before throwing him a side glance, “And by the way, this discussion is far from over.”

“Muy bien. You got this.”

His tone was meant to be casual, but there was no denying the hint of admiration (and daresay lust) that rumbled within his thick throat. This was a side of you he has never seen. And although he can deduce that it comes from years of discipline and training; deep down, he knew your instinct to protect him comes from something much baser and more powerful. He knows, because he’s ready to protect you to despite his suggestion otherwise.

There was so much that needed to be said between you two. But that would have to wait until you were both safe. And without interruption.

“Just another long night, ¿si?”

As long as I’m with you, Luis, I’m happy.

You didn’t say it out loud. But he heard them all the same.

A/N: A continuation of Him.

Gif is also not mine, please support the original poster :3

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that-foul-legacy-lover · 1 year ago

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WAKES UP IN A COLD SWEAT

Being childhood friends with Ajax after he gains the ability to change into Foul Legacy and he doesn’t have complete control over it yet.

Numerous times did you find yourself sitting in Ajax’s bed room, a much smaller, more scraggly looking Foul Legacy curled in your arms, chirping and trying to speak to you in Abyssal language. You can’t understand him and Foul Legacy doesn’t quite know why he’s so attached to you, his hazy memories still forming, but he does know he enjoys your company!

Foul Legacy being a bit smaller when Ajax was a child, probably around the size of the average adult, being a lot more lanky and fluffier, like a deer 🙁 My wet cat.

The amount of times you’d have to drag Ajax away from a conversation or potential fight (that he was about to initiate) because you noticed the clear signs of Foul Legacy coming out. Dragging him to his home or favorite fishing spot and just, being stuck with Foul Legacy for the next few hours. Not that you mind! He’s so curious about everything around him, and so curious about you! Will try to curl up in your lap as you comb his fur, happily telling you a story in Abyss, you simply nod and pretend you understand.

My baby 🙁🙁 i miss him

[📺]

ue ue ueeee (sound of me crying over this /lh)

being a kid from Snezhnaya, you're not really scared when you first meet Foul Legacy- honestly, you're mostly confused and worried about where Ajax was, thinking that this scruffy Abyss monster ate him. but Foul Legacy quickly trills, an odd, disjointed sound, and snuggles up to you, curiously poking you and tugging at your sleeve. Ajax feels safe around you, so Legacy does too- you're a bright light shining in the cold darkness of Snezhnaya, of the Abyss, and he much prefers the warmth of your embrace to the frigid winds outside. you can't understand his chitters and chirps, but the fluffy creature is just as talkative as Ajax, with his same bright ginger hair...

oh. your eyes widen with realization, and Foul Legacy lets out a happy peep and curls closer to you

the most telltale sign of Ajax transforming into Legacy is his eye color- what's normally a vivid, lightless blue deepens to a twilight purple- and you know to grab his hand and drag him somewhere quiet, for in your presence and your presence alone, the Abyssal hunger for blood falls away, leaving a sweet and affectionate Foul Legacy. he likes your hands and face most of all, gently squishing your cheeks and nibbling your fingers, giving your forehead adoring licks. for now he's still small enough to snuggle in your lap as you sit on Ajax's bed, although you know he'll grow, so you spend entire afternoons by his side, listening to him sing in some strange language that you can't quite grasp or reading one of your books together, watching the snow fall silently through the window

and he was your special secret- just you, Ajax, and his monstrous, adorable other half

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chapinii · 1 year ago

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Many on Quesadilla island believe that Fitmc was very much closeted to himself and the world up until he arrived on the QSMP, but perhaps that closet wasn't quite as locked as some may presume.

With the environment of 2b2t being so rife with hatred and homophobia, a deep and meaningful relationship was always out of the question. But within its depths lay the rub, of Fit, going through the all too familiar queer experience of being very aware of his sexuality against this toxic landscape, and knowing the possibility of others out there being just like him. Others whom he could never risk reaching out to in public, but longed to all the same.

He'd heard and seen his fair share of casual to severe homophobia, as well as witnessing with some amusement how the homoerotic tension some players swear against can tear factions apart. He knows all too well the irony that comes with a land so dominated by toxic masculinity and bigotry. This is a place where a man will stare you in the eyes, caress your cheek so gently, then spit in your face in disgust before insta-killing you. Of course, the price for outing somebody in such a place is a pretty penny for sure. Being a blank slate in the land of anarchy is your strongest asset. The last thing you want to do is throw fuel onto the fire and give people even more of a reason to put your head on a spike.

And so, he kept his feelings repressed- for the most part. He'd hide a blush as he melted internally over a handshake with a particularly muscular allied base leader. He'd allow himself the luxury of a poster, of an old Hollywood western starring a (very) dashing cowboy, that he'd stick crudely on the bedroom wall of wherever he'd end up staying for a while. But perhaps, just a couple times, he'd had a few small but significant experiences: the touch of a hand on his for just a fraction too long, warm eyes from a face he can't quite remember looking him up and down, all but rendering him breathless. Split second opportunities that would make those feelings bubble up to the surface, too strong to ever truly ignore. Being a lone mercenary in a world of anarchy is all well and good, but God does it get lonely.

He and Pac like to take things slow. It's a mutual decision. Neither of them have ever truly felt the need to sit down and discuss why. Fit wouldn't like him to know what he thinks about whenever the subject drifts towards the two of them going any further with their relationship. Every time Pac makes any kind of suggestive advance, heck, even if he looks at the man for too long, his mind can't help but think back to one quiet night on 2b2t, so many years ago. Flashes of encountering a stranger, deep underground, of a clumsy, desperate kiss. Stubble on stubble, the raw smell of dirt and sweat and cigarette smoke. He remembers the thrill, the terrifying electricity of it all, until a clatter was heard in the cave behind them and the moment was gone forever. It meant everything and nothing at the same time, that chance encounter. It was the closest he'd ever came to a real connection with somebody. He didn't know what became of the other man who so urgently whispered 'run', into his ear. He could have killed Fit right there, made a point of it, and yet he didn't. The mere memory of it petrified him, but by God, did he feel alive.

All the same, he didn't dare risk anything like that again. That was until he came to the QSMP, a place where he didn't have to hide himself from others, but still he airs on the side of caution. He's afraid of getting things wrong, of throwing himself into something he can't run away from. This isn't just some random encounter with a player in 2b2t. Pac is different. Fit knows he's got a past of his own, he sees how it torments him sometimes. What if daring to make a move, even kissing him opens up old wounds for the both of them?

Fit's no longer hiding in the dark. Making things 'official' with Pac is not a once in a lifetime chance, but the longer Fit hangs around him he feels like it is. He wants to keep Pac safe just as he kept himself safe for all those years. When he finally lets himself get closer to his roommate, one wrong move and another hypothetical cave noise could sound, followed by the form of something even more terrible that could rip the two apart forever and send Fit straight back to square one.

Slow and steady wins the race. Slow and steady keeps them both safe.

But God, what he'd give to feel that thrill again.

#aka the one where qfitmc has kissed men #i did in fact write out the entire kiss encounter #but it was too much of a narrative thing lol #i'm not good w not writing fics(?) like they're not genuine analysis #i've probs mischaracterised the shit out of qfit but i've had this encounter in my head for a month so forgive me for my demons #mission man is probably a jilted ex atp with the way I've penned this #this has been in my drafts for so long it's awful </3 #q!fitmc #qsmp #hideduo #please read this with a british accent in mind it'll sound better x

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lattedusks-mochadawns · 6 months ago

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Lower!Wild Kratts AU

Haha I have made an AU. The outfits are from that hit game Project Sekai from the Hermit Card Set. The concept is based off of Lower One’s Eyes by Nulut (the Vocaloid MV version) mainly for Koki and Aviva’s backstory. Hence why this is called the Lower!AU.

This AU is sorta set in a fantasy world in a medieval-ish era (I guess it’s mainly fantasy.) The most summary I will give for now is that bros wanna form a creature adventuring group but the townsfolk are too pussy to join. They meet Koki, then Aviva who both join but have unresolved conflict from their past life before. And they pick up Jimmy who was napping on a rock upon their first meet. Jimmy is just Jimmy in this AU. Or is he?

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weather-mood · 10 months ago

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Danlou Rec List

A compelling case for Danlou. Be converted to Danlou in 10 fics or less.

nothing left to give you now (E) by @diasdelasombra

baby, I’m your man (M) by @devotiondroid

long live the car crash hearts (M) by @keepoffthetardis

be still my foolish heart (T) by @keepoffthetardis

a ghost is a memory (T) by @keithal

a memory is a ghost (regret, regret) (M) by @enterprisery

and he was mine (E) by watertiger

the first interview (E) by @kittyldpdl

What Pawns Can Do (E) by @nakiaslilhoodoo

Anything from the Danlou noir collection

Bonus

latent energy (E) by Anonymous

#interview with the vampire #it’s about the longing and yearning and Daniel being pathetic but also about Daniel being tortured #I tried to restict this to oneshots and short multichapters but for long fics #I def recommend good to love / ruthless in love by tml #and gaypiratedivorce’s #little kidnaps in the dark #vamp please forgive me for putting yours on the list I know you hate danlou 😭#secret danlou rec is cold catching by the_lame_goat if goat doesn’t kill me for the same #it’s not my fault that you need some hate in your heart for Daniel to write good danlou #puts self rec hat on #teachers’ pet and mental topology experiments also very much danlou propoganda too #takes hat off #anyway please enjoy this danlou propaganda

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smile-files · 1 year ago

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just a kind word for all of you lovely folks out there: if you say the r-slur or you don't call out your friends for saying it then i hate your guts :)

#melonposting #i'm writing my piece for the ada's open letter in our school newspaper. and oh my god i am so angry!!!!!!!!!!!! :D #like to kill an ableist reblog to kill an ableist. you know the drill #ughhhh my school is supposed to be super progressive and it is in a lot of ways #but hmmmm no punishment for saying the r-slur? people using autistic and sped and disabled and bipolar and psychotic as insults 24/7?#forgive me if my math is wrong but it just doesn't add up! :)#and don't get me started on people throwing around the term 'intrusive thoughts' like it's soooo cute and quirky #dude. i literally get intrusive thoughts. please leave the school building and never come back. expel yourself #'tee hee i let the intrusive thoughts win!!' and i will win in hand to hand combat against you. shut up #if you reading this are someone i know at school who did something like this don't come groveling to me #it doesn't help. if anything it just makes me feel guilty for calling you out #and for goodness sake you know i can't stand up for myself. please call people out for their sick bs when you know i can't #thank you :'D

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midnight-wood · 4 months ago

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Thank u for reading Nightfall. 🥺🥺🥺 Means a lot to me since I worked very hard on it but it just didn't take off.

Omg of course!!!!!!

I really enjoyed it so so much 🖤🖤🖤

Should you ever add to it, put me on the tag list!!!!

Also I will say, back when I wrote consistently, (pre COVID, a lifetime ago) nobody ever loved the ones I put my all into??? But that did not stop me and it should not stop you. 🖤

#i got an ask!#anonimusunnoaniswriting #your stories are so good to me!#I’ve been reading the other one you recommended too!#it’s just been a shit day so I haven’t finished it #also please forgive my unsolicited advice #but it’s true #write what you want #also sorry bc I started responding to this at like midnight and then got introuble for still being awake #like Mr sir I AM an adult #your wife even #let me make bad decisions

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theexhaustedqueer · 29 days ago

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I’m really discovering about myself that my favourite genre of character to write is female who characters who do horrible things for interesting reasons. Not in the way of me justifying their actions, actually usually it’s quite the opposite, and certainly not in the girlboss “they can do whatever and I’d still like them” way. Rather, asking the question “What messed up concoction of flaws and life experiences could compel a person to act in such a morally reprehensible way?” And also they’re women. I’m serious, this a solid 30% of the NPCs in the dnd game I run, and I’m only adding more. My players are going to catch wise at this rate.

#vanessa kylie jane #the actual bbeg falls into this archetype too #heck even delphi could technically qualify even though I wouldn’t characterize her as morally reprehensible #while her actions tend to result in good she’s still being spurred on by her deeply fucked up worldview and life experience #and in her downfall she fails to accomplish any good because she is so set in her ways she refuses to consider other options #I’m rambling about my characters because I can’t talk to my players about it without spoiling a bunch of twists for them please forgive me #writing #writing stuff #dungeons and dragons #dnd #dnd npc

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perenlop · 2 months ago

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ash’s sinnoh team is so good (mostly) and im fond of the core six and then you look closer and you remember that only half of them were treated all that well

#it only gets worse when you count ambipom.#staraptor is sorta just there to me tbh. doesnt help that it stayed in its middle stage most of the time which i dislike #but thats a personal thing. besides that it was ok. buizel was treated pretty fine too #but i stand by that gliscor was done dirty. i dont get why people go ‘’oh it got training and became a badass!! thats GREAT writing!!’’#when she immediately gets thrashed in the league anyways (even if she powers through and gives an awesome fight for that goddamn drapion)#its still not a great way to reintroduce her and its one of the parts of ash v paul i dont actually like all that much #like cmon infernape gets the biggest win in that fight #can he at least give this one to gliscor. please. or have torterra do it he is fucking begging for mercy #but anyways ig thats forgivable bc of drapion. back to my og point tho i dont get that as a defense #because how is it better writing for gliscor to get that treatment offscreen when we couldve had a really cathartic training arc instead #because she had a pretty inconsistent win/loss rate that couldve been addressed further #especially because the lake acuity/sinnoh league team parallel was so important. it just muddies the equation up to bench her #i think it gets forgiven because of the league and because ambipom was treated MUCH worse #like damn at least gliscor got to come back at all. at least her departure was related to what she wanted #but that doesnt change the fact that it just makes the league feel more clunky and awkward than it should #idk. why do people think a pokemon getting shipped off for offscreen training is good writing. i genuinely dont understand it #its always felt lazy and cheap to me. why is this pokemon we havent seen strong? uh. it trained offscreen? idiot?#tbf i think charizard and heracross also sorta suffer from this. heracross especially #he shipped that thing off so early in johto why am i supposed to believe its this super powerful battler #i mean. besides that its a heracross. but still. heracross v scizor is awesome but it doesnt necessarily explain its later feats #(ik heracross was sent to oaks lab not sent to training but still)#echoed voice

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writereleaserepeat · 2 years ago

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So, I finally dove back into some great writing by @peachy-panic after some chapter updates to their stories Do No Harm and Fifty-Eight Days. I really adore the setting and characters in Fifty-Eight days, and anonamously received the blessing to write some fanfiction, so I did! Spoilers for Fifty-Eight Days below the cut - please go read their work if you haven't already!

There's a nameless woman mentioned in the flashback that starts "Reconvergence," and I thought it would be interesting to see the rescue scene from a different point of view (and perhaps from the point of view of someone who is mostly lucid at the time). It's obviously a fan work, so there are some canon divergences and creative liberties just to make it flow, but I really love the characters and hope I did them a bit of justice.

Spoilers for Fifty-Eight Days by peachy-panic

TW: implied non-con, aftermath of non-con, nudity mention, strong language, kidnapping, blood mention, gore mention, violence mention

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“You should be prepared for anything,” the Lieutenant Colonel had said. As any dutiful officer would, Eleanor Martin took those words to heart, and prepared as well as one could. Naievely, she thought she had prepared for anything. But that pre-mission briefing felt like a lifetime ago now that she was staring at the gore-soaked aftermath of the compound raid.

Voss’s men had put up a fight, just as they had expected. The winding halls were lined with bodies of the nameless henchmen, grey brain matter collecting in puddles alongside skull fragments, crimson splattered up against the walls. Ivory paint was pock-marked with countless bullet holes, and the smell of gunpowder lingered alongside the pungent odor of copper. Death permeated every pore of her body.

It hadn’t been hard to find Voss’s room, an elegant suite tucked away at the heart of the sprawling compound. He had thought himself a king, and the bedroom had clearly been built to reflect this sentiment.

The only crown Voss wore now was a ring of liquid red. His eyes were already glossed over with the pallor of death, and he was gazing up at the ceiling with a permanent grimace etched in his leathery skin. For a man who had been hunted by authorities for years, a man turned into a monstrous specter that rivaled the devil himself, he seemed so small as he slumped lifeless against the bedroom wall with a bullet hole between his brows.

But it wasn’t Voss that had seared an image in Eleanor’s mind when she entered the room. It was the two young men, the very ones they had also hoped to find in this place, caught amidst the gunfire and the chaos. Naked, soaked in blood, the whites of their eyes showing like frightened dogs. They hardly resembled the two photos that authorities had received six long weeks ago, but it was unmistakably the two missing missionaries. And amidst the flurry of uniformed men entering the room, it was clear that no one knew what to do with the surviving victims. Perhaps this was because they were never expected to be found alive.

“Gordon, call the medics in,” Eleanor barked at her colleague. He nodded, shoving his pistol back in its holster before running out of the room. Eleanor tried to ignore the fact the other soldier looked as though he were about to be sick.

Movement caught her eye, and Eleanor turned her attention back to the victims. The boy she recognized as Grayson Dawning scrambled off the bed, his face stained with tears and blood, an expression of hopeless despair frozen in place. Alive. He was alive, unmistakably, honest-to-god alive.

While finding both victims alive was better than any of the authorities involved had expected, Eleanor could already tell that survival was not a kindness to either of these young men. The near-catatonic one—Elijah—was still facedown on the bed and gagged. Even among the armed men reorganizing themselves to sweep the rest of the compound, his cloth-stifled soft sobs still filled the room with heart-wrenching pain.

“You- you gotta help him,” Grayson mumbled as he staggered to his feet beside the bed, hands pulling at the cloth gag that was stuffed in Elijah’s mouth. Grayson didn’t seem to care that he was still exposed, burdened by the stench of sweat and sex across every inch of his skin. Eleanor’s stomach turned.

Be prepared for anything.

“Easy, Mr. Dawning,” she murmured, unsure of what else to say. After all, what could she say? It didn’t take an expert or a medic to understand what they had stormed in on.

Blood streaked down Elijah’s legs, across his face, all over the sheets of the bed. From the mass of wounds on his back and his thighs, it was hard to tell which injuries were fresh and which were just gnarled scars. But rather than attempt to stymie the bleeding, she took to pulling Grayson away, trying to get a handle on the situation until the medics arrived.

“I’ll get that,” she promised as she nudged Grayson’s trembling hands away from Elijah’s head. The young man didn’t offer her any resistance as she carefully undid the knot buried within the unruly curls. She couldn’t help but wince as her own fingers shook, but soon the knot loosened, and the crude gag finally came undone. With as much caution as she could muster she eased it out of his mouth.

“Elijah, please,” Grayson cried softly, his hands touching Elijah’s shoulder, trying to break through the fog that had overcome the younger of the pair. But as Eleanor could clearly see, Elijah’s eyes were unfocused, welling with tears, vacant but for the slightest spark of life. She wondered if he could even hear his companion at all.

“Well, shit,” Adam muttered as he looked at the two boys on the bed, the medic suddenly having appeared at Eleanor’s side. He dropped the medical bag to the floor and began his usual procedures, pulling the zippers open to reveal his instruments and supplies. There was no mistaking the urgency with which the man had gotten down to business.

“Adam, this is Grayson and Elijah,” she said, gesturing to them each in turn. She wasn’t trained to interact with patients like Adam was, but the least she could do was give them a name to attach to a face. Maybe she hoped it would give them some comfort, ground them amidst the chaos that had just rained down. It just seemed like the right thing to do.

She wasn’t even sure there was a right thing to do in a situation like this.

“Hey, Elijah,” Adam said as he settled down by the bedside. “My name’s Adam, and I’m here to help you out.” Elijah didn’t respond, eyes still staring off into empty space, tears leaking freely in streams through the blood and grime.

“Please, you have to help him,” Grayson said, pleading. “Please, Elijah, I’m so sorry. I’m- it’s going to be okay. I'm sorry.” It was impossible to miss how Grayson’s hand wrapped around Elijah’s, squeezing tight. Whatever they had gone through, they were the only ones that could understand each other now.

“I’m checking your vitals now,” Adam continued, narrating his actions to Elijah softly beneath Grayson’s panicked chatter. “We’re going to start with your blood pressure and your heart. Eleanor, can you finish untying him?”

Shit. Eleanor hadn’t even thought to undo the restraints binding the boy’s wrists. She made quick work of those so Adam could slide the blood pressure cuff around Elijah’s recently-released arm. Moments later the rest of the medical team arrived, two gurneys and more medical supplies in tow.

“Yeah, we’ve got to load them up and get them out of here as soon as we can,” Adam said as he stood up to look at Eleanor, face taut with a newfound urgency. Whatever numbers the paramedic had pulled from his devices, they hadn't been good. “Our team will take Elijah here, and Joe’s team can take Grayson. We’ll take them both to the predetermined hospital, but it’s up to your folks to get the American authorities down there.”

“Fuck, right, I’ll let the Lieutenant Colonel know,” Eleanor answered, reaching for her walkie-talkie on her belt. The fact that these boys were alive was going to spare something of an international incident. She was supposed to let the Lieutenant Colonel know as soon as there was any definitive contact with the boys, dead or alive. Somehow, that had slipped her mind upon seeing their condition, that scene she had walked in on. If word of what truly happened got to the press, she wasn’t sure it would be much better than if they had been found dead.

After she made the call to her boss—yes, they were alive, and they were about to get brought out to the awaiting ambulances—she helped pull Grayson away from Elijah. This gave the other paramedics enough time to get to work on Grayson, running a rapid assessment of his vitals and responsiveness. As soon as he had lost contact with Elijah’s skin, Grayson seemed to disappear in much the same dissociative state.

This older one of the pair, supposedly a group leader that had pursued Elijah after he went missing, was barely more lucid than his catatonic companion. And as Elijah was rolled out of the room on a stretcher, bodies cleared out of the way as they went, Grayson seemed lost in a fog. Eleanor kept her grip on his upper arm as he looked around like a lost child.

“Where is he?” Grayson asked, panic renewed as he came back to himself, if only just. “Where did you take him?” He pulled himself from Eleanor’s grasp and stumbled towards the hallway, past the broken door, feet passing over the puddles of blood without hesitation.

“Where is Elijah?” He called out into the nothingness as Eleanor and the other paramedics followed after him, prepared to intercept and bring him to a gurney of his own.

“Mr. Dawning,” a shorter paramedic pleaded, “You need to sit down and let the medics look at you. We need to get you to the hospital.”

It was obvious by the full-body tremors that Grayson wasn’t particularly amiable to that suggestion. Eleanor, not versed in the art of comforting, and without a maternal instinct in her body, again attempted to soothe.

“It’s over now,” she said as she prepared to guide Grayson out of the winding compound. “It’s over, you’re safe.” He seemed to flinch when she reached for his shoulder again, so she drew her hand back. It would have to be enough to walk by his side. So she did, walking close by his shoulders, the paramedics rolling the gurney and their supplies a few paces behind. But she may as well have not even been there as they navigated the winding halls, Grayson still calling out Elijah’s name, eyes darting to every face they passed.

Once they were outside in the driveway, washed in the bright white of industrial grade lights and the flashing of emergency vehicles preparing to depart, Grayson seemed to snap back into focus. Of course; it seemed that Elijah was about to be loaded into one of the waiting ambulances, his body atop a stretcher and draped in blankets.

“Elijah!” Grayson cried out, voice cutting above the fray of uniformed officials trying to make some sense of the carnage that was unraveling inside the compound. From the chatter on Eleanor’s radio, it seemed that these wayward missionaries were not the only victims to be found in the recesses of Voss’s personal playground. More ambulances - and coroners - would likely be on their way in a matter of minutes.

Grayson nearly tumbled to the ground as his foot caught on the edge of the gurney, but somehow the emaciated boy caught himself and continued to propel forwards towards Elijah. That spark of desperation pulled again at Eleanor’s heartstrings. She watched the paramedics try to ward Grayson off, refuse his entry into the ambulance, their faces stern. Even Adam seemed prepared to put his foot down and protect the patient in his stead.

For a moment, Eleanor was lost. She likely would never see these boys again, not in person. Perhaps on the news or in her nightmares. But even if she would never see them again, she would remember these moments for the rest of her life. Perhaps they would too. What kindness could she afford them now?

“Let him,” she said, walking a few paces towards the waiting ambulance. “Let them go together.”

One of the paramedics looked like he was prepared to argue, but Eleanor knew that her rank was visible on her chest patch. A short tilt of her chin and squint of her eyes was all it took to make them fold.

As soon as wordless permission was granted, Grayson grabbed onto Elijah’s hand, both of their knuckles white. Fear still danced around them, but in the last few moments that Eleanor saw them before the doors closed, she knew she had made the right decision. Whatever awaited those boys in the future, and whenever they had to reckon with what she had glimpsed upon breaching that door, that would be saved for another day. For now, for these few short minutes before they were subjected to a thousand questions and countless doctors prodding at them, they would have each other. Maybe that would be enough.

#whump #whump community #whumplr #fanfic #peachy-panic #I've never done fanfic for a not-majorly-published piece before #so I'm super nervous lmao but yolo amiright?#trying to get back into writing and I wasn't going to ignore a muse #no matter where that muse came from or what it asked of me #so yeah this was just a little other-POV to look at these sweet bois #how I'd imagine it anyway #ramble ramble ramble I'm just ahhhh #please go read the original it's so good #also please forgive any eras #I have no betas just my own impulses and poor grasp of grammar

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