#this is funny to me and i think that's all i need it to be

[lemonbbars]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ for your eyes only

calvinkleinmodel!ellie x vsangel!reader

a/n: this is quite long for a headcannon thing ‘cause i really like calvinklein!ellie and wanted to make a full fic for her but am way too lazy. hope you still enjoy though!

warnings: kinda suggestive, mentions of sex but nothing graphic

ckmodel!ellie who causes her fans to lose their minds when she posts a picture of herself in the mirror infront of her bed, not noticing the lacy bralette of vsangel!reader’s new, unreleased signature set she had posted a picture in last night peeking out under her comforter.

ckmodel!ellie who is completely calm when the press somehow manages to take a photo of you two on ellie’s apartment balcony; her head tucked in the crook of your neck as her arms wrap around your waist from behind (hands suspiciously disappearing below the waistband of your pajama pants), essentially confirming the rumors of your relationship.

vsangel!reader who, as opposed to her now not-so-secret girlfriend, is hysteric when she sees the first article with the paparazzi photos. “ellie, what do we do??” you whisper shout at your phone. you’d locked yourself in the bathroom, managing to temporarily slink away from your photoshoot. you heard ellie chuckle from the other end of the line, frustration bubbling in your chest. “something funny?” you asked, tone cold and clipped. you heard ellie go quiet, no doubt sensing your annoyance. “i’m not laughing at you, ok? i just think you need to relax.” “relax? your hand is literally shoved down my fucking underwear!” you heard ellie chuckle again, thoroughly pissing you off. “ellie, i swear to god.” “hey, hey! babe! you-you can’t even see my hand in the photo! it’s too blurry!” you sighed heavily, lips forming into a pout as you held the phone speaker up to your mouth. “baby, listen to me, ok? everything’s gonna be fine. our pr teams’re probably covering it up right now.”

vsangel!reader and ckmodel!ellie who are on the front page of every single pop culture news article and magazine within the next hour. ellie was wrong. your pr teams were in fact not covering anything up.

vsangel!reader and ckmodel!ellie who are thoroughly surprised to learn that they’re marketing teams had decided to push the photos to a wider audience. something along the lines of ‘ all publicity is good publicity’. “is this why you were so chill when the photos were posted?” ellie just laughs kissing you in response. the truth was she had no idea, but had all but been waiting for the inevitable event in which the public found out about your relationship. now she could finally show you off.

ckmodel!ellie who starts coming to watch your shoots. she looks like she owns the place in the little director’s chair the had set up for her; legs spread wide as she leisurely leaned back in her chair, eyes dark and hungry as they watched you from across the room. you have no idea how long she’s been wanting to do this.

ckmodel!ellie who insists on trying out the freebies you get from work. “you gonna wear this one tonight?” ellie asks lowly, nodding to your current photoshoot getup. she’d pulled you away during the mid-shoot break, and now had you alone in the dressing room. you smirk, “excited are we?” she smiles, pressing a kiss to your lips that is all but innocent. you feel her kisses trail down your neck. “i can’t help it when you look this good.”

ckmodel!ellie who loves to see you with your wings on. says it’s your ‘true form’ cause she’s ’pretty sure you’re an actual angel’.

ckmodel!ellie watches the recordings of your shows on youtube after the show itself, muttering her praises and speaking her thoughts—most of which leave you beet red in embarrassment.

ckmodel!ellie whose fans—which of course included you—go absolutely feral when her calvin klein ad video is released. you, as well as probably every girl on the planet are unable to tear your eyes away from the screen. one scene in particular has her up against a wall in nothing but a spots bra and a pair of jeans sat low on her waist, allowing a full view of her strong arms and perfectly sculpted abs, harsh lighting highlighting the definition further. a million girls wish they, but you’re the only one who actually gets it.

ckmodel!ellie who sends you a text right after you watch the video, knowing you well enough that she’s certain you’ve already seen it. you click on the message, your manicured nail tapping against your screen. bright light illuminated your face as you read the it; ‘here’s the uncut version’. your eyes quickly made their way to the video file below the message labeled ‘for your eyes only.’ well, now you knew what you were doing tonight.

[syrecjh]

Can you do one where kats and yn do a prank on his mom where he disrespects yn INFRONT of her? Idk I just thought it would be kinda funny

It started with flour on the counter and too much love in the air.

You were in Mitsuki Bakugo’s kitchen, barefoot and beaming, apron strings tied behind you like a ribbon of domestic ambition. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and the house smelled like green onions, soy glaze, and the faint flicker of impending doom. You were making gyoza with Katsuki—more accurately, you were trying to make gyoza while he stood over your shoulder, arms crossed, pointing out every step you were “ruining.”

“This is not how you fold the damn dumpling,” he grumbled for the third time, peering over your shoulder like a judgmental culinary ghost.

“It’s rustic, babe,” you replied, pinching another one badly, “it has character.”

“It has air pockets,” he hissed, grabbing one like it had personally offended his entire bloodline. “You’re gonna make it explode in the pan.”

“Then maybe it’ll match your personality.”

In the background, Mitsuki snorted from the sink, where she was rinsing greens. Masaru flipped a newspaper page and grinned like he knew where this was going. You winked at him. The trap was set.

You reached for the soy sauce—and that’s when the bowl of sesame oil slipped. A sharp crack rang out as ceramic shattered on the floor. Oil splattered across the tiles. You froze, mid-gasp, and before you could so much as bend down—

Katsuki snapped.

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?! ARE YOU DUMB OR SOMETHIN??!" he barked. “SERIOUSLY?! Can’t even hold a bowl without screwin’ it up?! Every damn time—”

The kitchen stilled. The air dropped ten degrees.

Mitsuki’s sponge fell into the sink with a soft splash.

Masaru’s newspaper crinkled.

And then—like thunder rolling in too late—Mitsuki whirled around and smacked her son across the back of the head so hard his soul nearly left his body.

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR DAMN MIND?! "

“OW—WHAT THE HELL, OLD WOMAN?!”

“Don’t you dare raise your voice at her like that in my house! Hell, in any house!”

Masaru stood, slow but firm. “We let you be loud. We let you curse. But never—not once—did you talk to her like that.”

“You yell at everyone, Katsuki, that’s not new,” Mitsuki spat, eyes burning, voice shaking with fury. “But her? Never. You don’t ever speak to her like that.”

You held a trembling hand to your mouth. “Guys... it’s fine. He—he gets like that sometimes...”

“WHAT?!” Mitsuki snapped toward you now, betrayal written on every line of her face. “What do you mean he gets like that?! All the time?!”

Masaru frowned, arms crossed. “Do you... need a place to stay?”

“OH MY GOD,” Katsuki groaned, eyes rolling, “we’re doing this now—?”

Mitsuki stomped forward. “You think this is a joke?! If I ever hear you talk to her like that again—”

“He does it all the time,” you said solemnly, looking away like a heroine in a tragic drama. “At this point... I’m just used to it.”

“WHAT THE FU—”

“ALRIGHT, ENOUGH!” Mitsuki shrieked, voice cracking, as she grabbed a spatula like a weapon. “I swear to god, if this is how you treat women I’m getting her a lawyer and a bat.”

“Mom, please, we’re joking—”

You burst into laughter.

Katsuki, finally breaking, doubled over the counter, wheezing into his arm. “You should’ve seen your faces—holy shit—”

“You—YOU PRANKED US?!” Mitsuki was vibrating. “I was about to divorce you from my DNA!”

Masaru, stunned, let out a long sigh... and then chuckled. “You almost gave your mother a heart attack.”

“She was gonna adopt me,” you teased, wiping a tear from your eye.

“She still might,” Mitsuki snapped, but her smirk betrayed her. “You’re lucky I like you, dumbass.”

Katsuki wrapped an arm around your waist, chin on your shoulder. “Told you they’d fall for it.”

“I nearly cried,” you said between laughs. “That was Oscar-worthy.”

“Next time,” Mitsuki muttered, turning back to the stove with exaggerated calm, “I’m throwing you out the window before you get the chance.”

HAHSHSHSHSHA Mitsuki would absolutely do a revenge prank

[vxnillabxn]

hiii👋 i'd like to request the lads men's reaction to being picked up! sometimes i feel like some writers underestimate/ don't acknowledge how physically strong mc is. although the guys weight isn't specified i feel like she could easily pick up a well-fit man 😌

your writing is amazing and i'm always amazed by your posting frequency (and quality)! hope you're doing fine and stay hydrated!! 💞

𐙚˙⋆.˚ mainfive! x fem!reader ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ fluff, just a teeny tiny bit suggestive! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sfw! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚mc is not dainty nor frail AT ALL, she can kick ass while having HEART ISSUES!!! mc, we love you over here ♡ thanks for requesting! this was so much fun to write~ and i tried to keep it light and a bit funny, too! (fem!reader in mind, but no fem!pronouns used!)

𐙚˙⋆.˚ caleb! ꒰੭

you were lazily sprawled on the sofa, with one of your legs dangling and swaying with boredom.

caleb was hugging said leg loosely, scrolling through his phone as he too wanted to entertain himself.

or both of you, preferably.

“no way,” he suddenly mumbles, looking up at you from his phone. “pips, look.”

he shows you an advertisement for a weightlifting contest back in linkon city.

“30k diamonds for the winner? geez… i might as well try!”

you say confidently, suddenly sitting up to look over his shoulder.

he turns to you and smiles.

he knows you are strong, as you two arm wrestle to choose who gets to keep the last braised chicken wing —though he always lets you have it no matter the outcome.

“well, you'll have to lift a lot of weight, though. don't you wanna' practice a bit more, pipsqueak?”

you shake your head with a big grin on your face.

“i have my own way of training!”

and you didn't lie.

later that day, as he was cooking for both of you, you decided to take him by surprise.

he already knew you were behind him, obviously. he's used to your sneaky attacks, and he can also catch your scent whenever you're nearby.

he expected you to scream, to poke his sides, to tickle him.

but what he didn't expect was for you to wrap your arms around his back…

for a moment, he smiled lovingly.

…for a very, very brief moment.

soon enough, his feet left the ground. the spoon he was holding fell from his hand, and you easily took him away from the kitchen, just to walk a few steps to the left.

you put him down and sigh loudly.

“ha! not bad at all, huh?”

he's silent.

he has been relocated, now standing in front of the sink.

well, yeah, he knew you were capable of doing whatever you put your mind and body into, and you seemed very eager about the competition.

but he just… didn't think he'd be your training equipment.

“hm! the salad needs more dressing, though. but the gravy is awesome! keep it up!”

you softly pat his arm and leave him alone in the kitchen after tasting what he was working on before you “attacked” him.

why didn't he come up with this training method instead?

he could lift you up or do planks with you prettily sitting on his back.

but right now? he actually does want you to keep using him —not only to train, though—. after all, he's better than the small dumbbells you have stored away somewhere in your house back in linkon.

and he… low-key loved to have your body pressed to his, even if it was for a few seconds.

“pips, wait! let me help you set up your training routine!”

and there he goes, running after you.

he'll make sure you practice a lot; taking him from one side to the other, and having those pretty and strong arms of yours tightly secured around him.

and he also will train in case you back out for whatever reason.

he wants you to have your well-deserved 30k diamonds, even if he plans on giving them to you for your efforts anyway.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ rafayel! ꒰੭

you two decided it was a good idea to go on a date by the docks.

on a holiday.

with famous people holding meet-and-greets.

it was packed with people, to say the least.

but he had your fingers tightly intertwined with his, and he kept you close as he rambled about the different antiques that caught his eye.

you were sharing snacks, drinking iced tea, enjoying the fresh sea breeze…

everything was going relatively well.

until someone recognized rafayel from the interviews and magazines he had appeared in during the month.

and scandal ensued.

“oh my gosh, look over there!” you could hear a whiny voice, followed by squeals and gasps.

obviously, as there were other famous figures around, people assumed he was here to meet some of his fans, too.

in no time, you had a crowd of people running towards him —or rather, towards both of you, as you clung to his hand for dear life.

“cutie, you're breaking my bones.”

“raf, let's go.”

“no, but i can't be that rude!”

it was a hushed discussion between the two of you until the people got closer.

too close for comfort.

he patted down his pockets, and suddenly…

“wait, i forgot to bring a pen—!”

he couldn't even finish his sentence as he was thrown over a shoulder like a potato sack.

well, your shoulder, to be precise.

he gasped and held onto you as you managed to run and dodge the crowded streets.

you didn't stop until you reached a narrow street with little to no people around.

and you finally took a deep breath before setting him down.

“i told you we needed to leave.”

you say once you catch your breath.

he was stunned.

in fact, he was looking at you with surprise, amusement, and fear.

first of all, wow.

second of all, wow —wink, wink—.

third of all, you're his precious bodyguard, true.

but he didn't expect you to be that efficient, let alone carry him around and run as if he were nothing but a purse to you.

“if you wanted me all to yourself, you should've just asked, cutie.”

he whispered, pulling you close.

you had a deadpan expression on your face.

“we're going back home, raf.”

“wait, but i have coupons for fried shrimp cakes!”

and he pouted his lips just a little bit; enough for you to sigh.

“...fine. but we'll make it quick, okay?”

you finally held his hand again, and the two of you started to walk back to the docks.

after a brief silence, he spoke with a cocky grin.

“were you jealous?~”

and that was it.

that was the last straw.

you turned on your heels and dragged him back, not before stating firmly:

“we're going home!”

he protested, of course. but he could see from the corner of his eye a hint of something similar to jealousy in your eyes.

and he just smiled, letting you order him and guide him around.

he might ask you to carry him around —like the prince he is— more often, now that he knows you're pretty much capable of doing so.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sylus! ꒰੭

you two were on a mission.

…

okay, only you were on a mission, and he decided to join you, as he wanted to spend the night together.

things went downhill; he started throwing hands, and you were also fighting. let's just say you two were winning.

until the “bad guys” called for backup.

and being outnumbered —which usually wasn't an issue— became dangerous.

sylus was composed, honestly.

he was panting, he was sweaty…

but he wasn't worried or tired.

you, on the other hand, wanted to retreat. things were looking ugly, you felt a weird pressure in your chest, and you knew you were exceeding your limits.

he knew it too.

“sylus, let's go!”

he looked back at you, ready to approach.

but he was surrounded.

and when he was about to simply attack back, with no issue at all, you grew impatient.

you ran toward sylus, pushed and yanked away some of the men around him, and lifted him off the ground.

quite easily, you might add.

his expression was clearly a mix of surprise and amazement, yet you didn't have enough time —nor was it the appropriate time or place to laugh about it.

you carried him toward his parked motorcycle outside, and you sat him down on the front with a thud, before sitting behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“go, go, go!”

you urged him, and he didn't think twice.

the engine roared on the empty, dark street, and you two disappeared in seconds.

back at his place, you two were oddly quiet.

no teasing, no bickering…

he took you straight to the bedroom and made sure you were okay.

he checked for injuries, no matter how small or shallow.

he also checked for scratches and then leaned down to hear your heartbeat, checking if it was okay again.

you did the same with him, naturally.

though, of course, he had no visible injuries anymore.

“so, sweetie,” he began, pulling you on top of him as he sat down on the bed. “was that really necessary?”

you tilted your head, a bit puzzled.

“you mean… was retreating necessary? i think it was, sy.”

he looks at you, and then his lips curl up.

“that is not what i'm talking about. think again, kitten.”

you frown, but you realize in seconds.

right.

you carried this man's 6'2 body, and pretty much handled him like a life-sized ken.

“ah… well, drastic measures were needed, i guess.”

he hums, both acknowledging and reflecting on your words.

“i see. i guess i will have to rely on you more than i expected to.”

you look up at him, before nuzzling against his chest.

“yeah, no. don't expect me to carry you around whenever you get yourself in trouble.”

his chest grumbles slightly as he laughs, and he kisses your forehead.

“when i get in trouble? why, sweetie… i thought we were a team.”

you simply blow a raspberry in response, but you know it's true.

even when he willingly got his nose all up in your business, you couldn't deny how fun it was when he helped you out.

and, come to think of it… now that you know how easily you can manhandle him, maybe you'll be able to sneak up or surprise him.

seeing his shocked face and wide eyes, even if it was just for a few seconds, was the highlight of your “failed” mission.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ xavier! ꒰੭

poor xavier wasn't able to sleep his daily… uh, 10 to 11 hours? was it more? you don't remember.

being undercover was usually fun, especially if you two got assigned together.

however, you two had to disguise yourselves as college students, with uniforms and all.

and, naturally, in order to remain unsuspicious, you had to follow an average student's routine and stay on campus.

and that meant waking up early, going to lectures, acting like everyone else, acquiring the same stress levels…

how fun!

you had no issue at all. in fact, you were reminiscing about those good times back in college.

xavier, however, was really good during lectures, but he was constantly yawning. the lack of sleep was defeating, and he wanted nothing more than for the fluctuations to disappear.

on the bright side, you two got to spend more time with each other, walk around campus, and imitate all those lovey-dovey couples you saw.

one day, you two had an atrocious project to work on. thankfully, you got to work in pairs, so you had fun doing it all day long.

unfortunately, he ended up passing out in your dorm, and the rules were quite strict about having people over after 10 p.m.

you didn't want to bring unnecessary attention to yourselves and potentially ruin everything, so you tried to be the perfect student.

so, as a perfect student would do, you tried to wake him up.

once. twice.

you tried poking his cheeks, shaking him, pulling some strands of his hair… but he was literally gone.

was he even breathing?

you sighed and stepped back, trying your best to come up with a solution.

and the only thing you could think of was taking him out yourself.

after stretching your arms and taking a deep breath, you lifted him bridal style, trying to move as quietly as possible across the hallway.

it took you some minutes, but you finally arrived at his door. you needed his key, but you had to put him down.

…

ah, he shifted.

his eyes fluttered open.

he looked up at you, then down at the floor, and finally at his closed door.

he took out his keys, stretched his arm out to open the door, and closed his eyes again to keep sleeping.

you were speechless.

he didn't even question how you were able to carry him so easily; he was delighted, actually. being in your arms, lulled by your scent and your ragged breathing…

this little demon.

you got inside his dorm room, and debated whether to throw him on his bed, or carefully place him down.

you chose the latter.

you knew he needed to sleep, and… he looked adorable with his head tilting back and his legs dangling from your arms.

before you could return to your dorm, he took your hand.

“thank you.”

he softly said, before going back to sleep and snoring softly once again.

“anytime, xav.”

you smooched his forehead and finally left to your own room, when you felt a light tapping on your shoulder.

a professor.

“excuse me, what part of 'no visits after 10 p.m.' did you not understand? come with me, immediately.”

ah, dang.

well, here goes your mission.

you can't complain, though. it was fun while it lasted.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ zayne! ꒰੭

“can we please exchange caaaards?”

you begged, holding a ridiculous “1” orange card, as well as a “2” green one.

zayne sighed, shaking his head.

“we've exchanged cards thrice already.”

you huffed, putting your cards down.

“come on! my luck sucks today! pretty pleaseeeee?”

he looks up at you, then down at his cards.

“...no.”

how dare he?

“i'll buy you tons of stuff before we leave, i promise!”

he still doesn't budge. rather, he gestures at you —gently— to keep playing, as it is your turn.

“fine. i'll win the next two rounds! just you wait!”

and so you two keep playing, and… it isn't looking good at all for you.

whenever you spot a colored cup and you want to place the same colored card, he does it first.

and it is always a “6”.

a doubled “6”.

“oh, this game is rigged!”

there is a soft smile on his face before he shakes his head.

“it is just a game. i can always let you win.”

“no! i'll win with my own blood, sweat, and tears!”

and so the last round begins.

and you finally, finally pick up good cards!

a “5”, a “6”...

yes, you're optimistic about your chances.

however, you don't notice when your blue “6” card falls out of your hands, and when it is your turn to play, you can't find it anywhere.

“hey love, did you take my card?”

he looks at you, then back at his deck.

“i did not.”

he shifts just a bit, and you frown, a bit suspicious.

“you sure?”

he nods once again, reassuring you. his gaze seems sincere, but his body language?

he hid your card under his seat.

you're certain.

—the poor card is under you, actually.—

“stand up,” you say, and he gives you a questioning look. “...please.”

he shakes his head.

“i do not have your card, love.”

“well, if you don't have it, there's no problem if you stand up, right?”

he leans back and arches one eyebrow.

oh, he wants war?

he'll have war.

you stand up and look at him, before putting both your hands under his armpits and lifting him up, like you would with a toddler.

he freezes, and you freeze too when you see that your card isn't under him.

you eventually put him back down, fixing his coat and glasses for him.

“uhm… sorry, zaynie, i thought…”

you soon notice your missing card on the floor, and you feel even more guilty.

he is silent, processing the information; the way you lifted him as if he were as light as a feather, the way you put him down just as easily…

well, naturally, he knew you trained constantly.

but he trained too, so he was solid and very tall.

and he never pictured something like this happening.

ever.

“so, uh… you won… three times in a row! yay!”

you smile awkwardly.

he just stands up, grabs your hand quietly, and guides you outside the playroom.

“wait, hey! no, i'm sorry! are you mad? i was only playing, love!”

“i hope your offer is still up.”

ah, buying tons of stuff for him before leaving?

but that was only valid if he exchanged cards with you!

“hey! that's not—”

he looks at you with a stern look on his face…

but with a cute, blushy, and pink nose.

did he actually like what happened?

or is this a punishment for being a brat?

he'll probably just ask for coffee or sweets anyway, so why not apologize the way he wants you to?

especially since he is still holding your hand, a bit tighter than usual… and with a warm, slightly sweaty palm.

you just hope he doesn't give you a lecture later —and that he doesn't teach you a lesson later at night, either. cof, cof.

[blxksun]

18+, minors and ageless blogs dni

camboy!lee know who didn't even start out (or think of doing it) because of his own thoughts. getting thirsty comments in his cat caretaking videos. comments about how hot he was, that jaw, those eyes, weird comments about sitting on his nose, how big his arms were, his thighs, those veins, those hands. and then one from a "mrknowskittycat: please tell me you have a link, please tell me you have a link, please tell me you have a link" and one day being affected by them.

camboy!lee know who does it because he finds desperation funny, not his, (even though the very obvious bulge in his sweatpants reeks of desperation), but the viewers. they'd been still waiting to get him out of his clothes.

camboy!lee know who doesn't even have a schedule for when he goes live, because he knows people will show up anyway. and quickly too. especially since the title is, "playing today".

camboy!lee know who, even now, still finds it funny. he doesn't even do anything on the livestream. he just sits there in a t-shirt that has the sleeves cut off and the light gray sweats. of course he's freeballing, it's comfortable, not because the comments that are thirsting are amusing. definitely not.

camboy!lee know who has a light smirk on his face as he reads the comments that are particularly needy. "is the print not enough?, you just have to see it don't you?", "if you want me to play so bad, play with yourself first, tell me about it, i might get fomo", "i don't punish my kittens, i just don't give them treats, who knows maybe i'll cave, give you one"

camboy!lee know who moves slightly in a stretch and lets out a groan. laughing when ping! ping! ping! ping! comes in. "you guys gift for a stretch, how kind, still doesn't convince me you want me to play". tone condecending, smirk still tight on his lips, and a tiny breathy laugh accompanying it.

camboy!lee know whose breath catches when he sees a familiar name in the chat. "onlymrknowknows": i just joined, because i was watching your old streams. i was so pent up from all your teasing that since seeing you my hand has been in my pants. i just got paid so i'll tell you all about it <3". finally, just who he was waiting for.

camboy!lee know who tells the other viewers to tell 'onlymrknowknows', thank you and that they should take notes on how to get what they want out of him. moving his hips up to slowly shimmy his sweats down to mid-thigh. hard cock, almost as veiny as the rest of him, clear essence shining at the tip, springing up as it was finally free.

camboy!lee know who stroked his cock with vigor, as the detailed report of viewer masturbation came through on his screen. front teeth the only thing showing as he moaned. struggling to keep his eyes open to read because 1. the image in his head is going crazy right now and 2. he needs to know when they cum. he really wants it to be at the same time. his tough and nonchalant facade completely disregarded, because he teased himself by teasing the viewers, everything felt way too good right now, his thumb rubbing just right on his tip. and he whimpers. the tough guy whimpers, and then breathily whispers out "f-fuck, look, you got shit-what you wanted, please, i need you to cum with me, please, please, fuckkkk please ah- oh god!" and it's so whiney.

camboy!lee know who doesn't even get to see the last message come through, because it hit him. eyes screwed shut and hips practically levitating out of the chair. he cums pathetically, shooting up onto his tee, some landing on his thigh. and the nerve of him to come down, face flushed, open mouth panting, teasing eyes and smirk becoming ever present. "okay , i played, bye". leaning up, ending the stream immediately, leaving viewers wondering when he'd be back next.

blxksun2025 do not copy or translate my works. happy reading !

a/n definitely making one for the other two, might do a poll for that one as well. this is a work of pure fiction, nothing in this work is a true reflection of the real person this fanfiction is based around. vote for the next one here

[its-elvie-innit]

Being on Instagram has concreted this post for me because yesterday an autistic girls account showed up on my page of her dancing as a kpop cover and honestly she was not doing the best job in the world she doesn't NEED to she's posting online for the fucking hell of it. And EVERY SINGLE COMMENT was like "are you serious" " tell me she's kidding " "come on girl give us nothing" because these randos want to be SO DESPERATELY funny to a bunch of ugly mean people online they think it's great to post like that, and because this girl was not picking up on how much they hated her she was being so serious and honest to them. Like every comment had an 'ok i will' reply I mean these videos had 60- 70k likes these were not small videos and 85% of the viewers were being so cruel. Like it's all be cringe be free the fandom has to get better until THEY are faced with a normal fucking girl. YOU HAVE TO ANALYZE YOURSELF. STOP BULLYING PEOPLE ONLINE.

i feel like cringe culture never fucking died because it won't it's ingrained into the internet ecosystem. so often I hear "be free, be cringe, do whatever you want!!! be a silky skrunkly" followed by category five ableism towards an autistic adult who makes Ms paint pokemon inflation art or teenager who dresses in bright colors and talks like an anime character.

[mishappeningss]

I’ve got 2 requests I’m curious about driver y/n and what she does on her down time on and off the track? When in a new country, does she explore the city with other drivers like finding new places to eat, go on scenic hikes, or does she stay inside enjoying the view?

And are there any awkward/funny moments with other drivers that went viral? Like maybe they get caught gossiping or they’re seen setting up an elaborate prank??

“Where in the world is YN?” — here’s what she does in her downtime, and the side quests she does with drivers from grid :)

more about driver!yn

Some days, she’ll wake up early, put a lazy outfit on, and convince Lando or Pierre to go find the best bakery in the city with her (she has lists, she’s researched before she flew in the country).

She’ll wander local markets with Yuki, asking for spice recommendations she’ll never actually use. She loves walking instead of getting an uber, even if it means getting lost. She once found a hidden café in Vienna and swore it changed her life.

She’s only here for a week, maybe even less — she has to see something!

In some days, she just wants quiet. If the weekend’s been intense, she’s the type to stay in, order room service, and watch a local show on the hotel TV.

She’ll sit on the hotel balcony with tea and headphones, writing in her notebook or doing nothing at all. She also loves a solo walk at sunset, hoodie up, face hidden — no makeup, no pressure, just silence.

Sometimes, she turns her phone off completely and lets the city go on without her for a while. There’d be a blurry picture a fan shot of her sitting alone in Prague, legs dangling over the edge, holding a book and a bag of pastries.

“she looked so peaceful. just her and the breeze.”

She also has her main person whenever she travels! Carlos for structured city walks, and good food recommendations, Pierre when she wants quiet company and good coffee.

Lando and Oscar when she’s feeling chaotic and wants to laugh until she cries. Lewis for the occasional serene, a secret adventure no one else gets invited to.

Yuki when she wants to eat everything. George for scenic hikes that turn into accidental therapy sessions halfway up.

She’s not just there to race — she’s collecting memories in every timezone. Whether she’s sitting by a window with tea or running through the streets with three other people and a camera, she always makes space to feel the city.

And yes, the amount of chaos this girl gets caught in with other drivers? They’ve got their serious moments for sure — but their off track moments are absolutely what fans live for.

a hot mic disaster

During a post qualifying press conference, YN turns to Oscar and whispers loudly, “If Charles sighs one more time, I’m throwing my bottle at him.”

She thought her mic was off. It was very much not.

Charles, who was sitting two seats away, blinked directly to the camera. “How can she even hear me sighing?”

gossip cam

A fan filmed her, Liam, and Alex sitting on a wall post-race, whispering very intensely. Alex clearly mouths “He’s a weasel” and YN chokes on her water.

Fan exploded thinking they were dragging Lando. He later posted: “i am NOT a weasel. but also. who was it about i need to know”

“these three gossiping on live camera like mean girls with paddock passes 😭”

Oh, and I forgot. Sticker wars. It lasted for about two seasons and fans still talk about it.

It started when YN slapped a tiny, ugly frog sticker on Oscar’s water bottle as a joke after he left it unattended during media day.

He didn’t notice for three days. Once he did, he accused half the paddock. And from that moment… it escalated. Fast.

Carlos found a sticker of a potato with a mustache on his notebook before FP1. Lando got hit with a middle finger sticker on the back of his phone. He left it on for three weeks because he liked it.

YN walked into the Mercedes garage to find her seat completely covered in Hello Kitty stickers. Turns out? George is a menace with a printer and a grudge.

At one point, the drivers made a “Sticker Bounty Board” and taped it on the wall of the drivers’ room:

$10 to whoever sneaks a sticker on Roscoe

Double points if you can sneak a sticker on Kimi’s forehead without him noticing

No one touch Max. Please.

Many say it’s over, that the stickers are lessening. But they still see frog stickers lingering every weekend on front rears and helmets. 🐸👀

[narcjsistx]

please I have such a good request that I think is funny. After chapter 307, imagine Reader asks Sae if they can buy a pet bunny and he instantly tells her no, and she’s asking why not and he’s like “ No 😐🥀” but like, crack. It can be smau or fic I FEEL IT WOULD BE SO FUNNY THO

i usually don't make written fic requests, only smau ones, but this one really made me laugh. so here we are guys

✶ 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

it felt strange to have SAE ITOSHI at home for more than three days in a row — strange, but definitely pleasant. the spanish tour had just ended with great results, and that gave him the chance to finally relax a little, in the quiet of his home

it was nice to actually be able to hug him, and not just send a message he’d only read hours later in his hotel room. it was even nice just to spend time together in the same room, too

sae genuinely thought these days would be the best of the month — finally free to train only when he truly felt like it, and most of all, finally able to spend time with you after months of random flights for equally random, short-lived visits

he thought the days would pass by peacefully, with you

big mistake, sae itoshi.

"babe, can you watch the video i sent you?"

"okay. which one of the last... fortytwo?"

it wasn’t anything new to see that many videos waiting when he opened your chat. it was a habit you had since the very beginning of the relationship, and honestly, he didn’t mind it

"you’re not funny! it’s not fortytwo, c'mon..."

"fortysix."

"... just watch the last seven"

opening the chat, the number of bunnies that appears before his eyes is disgustingly disgusting. he sees all kinds: short fur, long fur, white, black, brown, long ears, short ears. his throat tightens almost automatically as he looks up — only to find you already standing in front of him with your phone in hand, with that face that, ever since you two got together, has never once been told no. he sighs bored, as you throw yourself down next to him on the couch, holding your phone right up to his face. instinctively he wraps an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer — but he’d throw that bunny on your screen as far away from him as humanly possible

"look how cute it is! it’s looking for a home, it’s up for adoption at the center near our hom—"

"absolutely not."

you turn surprised, lowering the screen slightly. you press your lips together like you’ve just received the worst news of your life, and sae already regrets having answered so coldly. it’s just that he can’t understand how such a cute animal could have the name of a jerk — the ultimate jerk, the very ultimate jerk

"... you don’t like bunnies?"

oh, he’d definitely like them more if they didn’t remind him so much of that barcha jerk — so jumpy and damn tall. sae clears his throat, moving the screen away from his face

"i don’t like bunnies"

"why? they’re so innocent, they don’t need much attention, and im home most of the time anyway"

"i don’t like them because they’re messy, they smell, they pee everywhere, and they ruin dreams that have nothing to do with them—"

"... i don’t think they do that?"

sae raises an eyebrow, then runs a hand through his hair — just to calm himself down a little. you look at him with that look, the one that’s been his downfall for years now. suddenly, your face is replaced by iglesias’s, and for a moment, sae is completely speechless. only when your actual face comes back into view he let out a sigh of relief, a very long one

"i just don’t think it’s the right pet for us, considering my job and the fact that you want to start university. don’t you think maybe... i don’t know, a dog would be a better choice?"

"but i want a bunny"

"yeah, and i’d like to be a striker, but things don’t always go the way we want"

"i don’t see how that has anything to do with what i said..."

"im just telling you to listen to me, trust me. bunnies are evil"

you give him a bit of a look, then slump against his shoulder with a pout. sae starts running his fingers through your hair, fully aware that maybe — just maybe — he’s won this battle, a battle harder than the one against barcha a few months ago

"i already had a list of names ready"

sae sighs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. the gesture doesn’t quite erase your pout, but your eyebrows are furrowed just a little less. hearing the list can’t possibly cause another mental breakdown… right?

"alright, let’s hear it. what were you thinking?"

"OKAY SO… since we’re in spain, i thought of a spanish name. everyone gives their pets human names, but i want to stand out… with building names. i was thinking of… catedral, colegio, cine, estadio... maybe even tienda, iglesia—"

oh, no bunny will ever cross the threshold of this house as long as sae is alive. neither human nor animal

[jeonscatalyst]

I was able to watch Jikook’s entire Live yesterday. Yes, those two kept me up late and now I look like a panda… but it’s okay, because I love them.

Let’s do a little recap of some of the things we learned from that Live:

• Jimin and Jungkook are, without a doubt, closer than ever. It’s so evident in everything… they genuinely love being around each other.

• Jungkook works out a lot… but he still ate six Krispy Kreme donuts and then had ramen right after with Jimin

•Jikook watched AYS in the military together.

• Earlier in the day, Jimin went shopping with his Yoongi and Namjoon hyungs. He was just tagging along since they were the ones who said they wanted to shop but somehow he ended up with three large bags of stuff while the others barely bought anything. Jungkook said he wants to go too.

• For some reason, Jungkook really wanted to apply lip balm on Jimin’s lips (he said they were dry) and playfully wrestled with him over it but Jimin wouldn’t let him.

• Just like in the past, we learned that Jungkook is still obsessed with going into Jimin’s bedroom. He goes in, takes tons of photos and videos of Jimin, some of which he sends to their group chat. According to Jimin, Jungkook comes in, watches him while he sleeps, takes pictures and videos, and then leaves.

• They take funny pictures of each other while sleeping and we actually got to see two of them during the Live. Doesn’t that suggest they’re around each other a lot when they sleep?

• Jungkook said he thinks Lives are better when it’s just him and Jimin.

• Jungkook desperately wants that YouTube channel. (Please!)

• He loves drawing cute, silly pictures of Jimin or with Jimin. We’ve seen some of his masterpieces before, and we got to see another one during the Live. (So cute!)

• Jungkook is tactile as hell. He’s always been touchy, but now it seems like he genuinely can’t keep his hands to himself when he’s around Jimin. And we’re not just talking about handshakes or shoulder and nape rubs… he literally wants to put his entire hands inside Jimin’s clothes because “it’s warm in there.” 😏

• Jikook still fluster the hell out of each other. Jungkook is much better at handling it now, while Jimin still can’t quite hold his own like Jungkook can.

• Their giggles? The most beautiful thing ever.

• Jungkook watched and loved K-Pop Demon Hunters. Jimin hadn’t seen it, but he had watched a few clips and knew a bit about the songs. Jungkook said he cried while watching it.

• All the other members had gone out and Jikook were the only ones at home.

• Jungkook read a comment out loud: “You guys look so good together.”

• Jungkook is still Jiminipedia. He knows his man isn’t going to sleep until he games a little. And let’s not even talk about the huge smile on his face when he said it.

• They did a pinky promise playfully and cutely … Jungkook held Jimin’s little hands and sang, “I promise, I will come to you.” (Do with that information what you will)

• Jungkook still finds Jimin incredibly cute and endearing.

• They watched some of their old performances together. Jungkook visibly cringed at his younger self.

• Jikook are back with the memes and inside jokes.

• Jimin still gives the best hugs.

JIKOOK ARE SO IN LOVE!

I might have missed some things. Will add as needed.

[ssentimentals]

heeey, hope u're doing fine 💗 i'd like to see your thoughts for prompt 4 + wonwoo (thank u so much in advance)

heeey dearest, i'm all good, how are you? thank you for requesting this funny prompt! 💜

prompt: 'ibuprofen and redbull is not breakfast.'

'are you alri-'

'i'm up, i'm up!' you startle, jumping on the chair and almost falling from it if it weren't for wonwoo's steady hand on your back. 'i wasn't sleeping!'

'right.'

his deadpan tone makes you pause. you blink, rub your eyes and blink again, taking in the surroundings. it's still your living room and your notes for the exam are still open right in front of you. only now there's bright sunlight peeking from the curtains and you're pretty sure it was past four am when you decided to take a small break from your studies. with a sinking feeling of dread settling in your stomach you ask: 'what time is it?'

wonwoo walks past you, dropping few supermarket bags on the table. 'almost nine am.'

you squint at him and he squints back, because he's an idiot and also because he knows that his squinty face never fails to make you laugh. you completely miss the fond look he sends you as your shoulders shake with silent laughter. 'god, you look so ugly when you do that, woo.'

'you're not winning miss universe with that face either,' he fires back with no malice, grinning when you laugh again. he then turns his attention to the bags he brought: 'breakfast?'

'no, i'm good. i ate something before falling asleep.'

'not for dinner, i'm talking about breakfast,' wonwoo corrects, looking up. 'and ibuprofen and redbull is not breakfast.'

you glance at empty can of the energy drink next to you. yeah, you're not proud but hey, you're also not the one who decided to put three exams in a one day, so. 'do not judge my coping mechanisms!'

'i am judging. hard.' wonwoo says dryly, corners of the mouth quirking up when you giggle. this sound might be his favorite one. 'anyways, breakfast? i got your favorite bagels from the bakery down the street and-'

'oooh, you love me!' you sing-song, getting up and running to his side, grinning from ear to ear. at the sight of a familiar drink you gasp: 'and my favorite coffee too? wonwoo, you really do love me.'

'i do,' wonwoo admits softly, too softly.

you don't notice though, digging through the bags and squealing at each new item you find. 'you are the best roommate i ever had, woo.'

'i'm the only roommate you ever had.'

'exactly!' you turn to him with a blinding smile that makes wonwoo's heart seize in his chest. 'and i don't ever want it to change.'

wonwoo wonders if you ever understand how it all looks from the side. if you ever pause to think of how the words you say sounds from the other side. if you ever sit and think of what you two have because- because wonwoo does. runs his mind with thoughts of you. maybe one day he'll be brave enough to confess, to take your hands in his and tell you that he cares more about you than he ever cared for anyone. that the sight of you early in the morning with sleepy eyes and messy hair makes him want to cry from how beautiful you are. that he'd buy you your favorite things just to see your smile, that your smiel is the reason of his good mood. for now though he settles on this: pulling out a chair for you, cutting your bagel in two because you hate when it's not cut and gently touchign up your forehead to check if you have a fever or not. when you look up at him, smiling, he smiles back.

'no fever, don't worry. thanks for the breakfast, woo!' you pat a seat next to you. 'come sit with me!'

'you're welcome,' wonwoo replies, obediently sitting next to you, smiling at the way your cheeks bunch up once you start eating.

'oh, this is so good. you really are a life savior, woo. always there when i need you.'

wonwoo exhales. god, do you ever- he pauses. inhales. exhales. it doesn't matter. he'll gain his courage soon. 'anytime,' he whispers, smiling. 'always'

a/n: it's my favorite FAVORITE trope to write thank you so much for requesting it!! i hope you loved it, uni student!wonwoo is my fav ever :') - nini

my other seventeen works are here

request your own here

[rainrot4me]

hey its the number 1 lj fan here! That was the most toe curling amazing fanfic of my life oh. my. god. THE LORE??? i wanna see us living with jack peacefully ilysm for this

YESS!! omg omg omg my little family

This post is based off my Laughing Jack fanfiction: It’s Just Your Imagination!

── .✦

The front door creaked open with the familiar click of Mrs. Dalton’s lock, and the scent of cinnamon and crayon wax greeted you immediately—a pleasant alternative to the constant lavender and lemon scents that had been scrubbed down these halls before. Otherwise, Oliver’s house hadn’t changed a bit.

Except now, Jack wasn’t just creeping in behind you.

He was living with you. Sleeping in your bed. Hogging your bathroom. Eating your ice cream (and laughing about it through a mouthful of sprinkles). But still…

He lingered in the doorway, his tall body pressed into the shadows like an awkward teenager trying not to knock over the coat rack with his massive shoulders and twitchy limbs. His striped legs folded like a slinky, hiding him halfway behind a lamp that definitely wasn’t big enough to cover him.

Oliver was already running to you, little socked feet pattering against the floor as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “You’re back!”

You smiled, ruffling his hair gently. “Of course I am. You think I’d miss out on hearing about your new friend Ellie?”

Oliver beamed up at you.

Behind you, Jack’s feathers rustled. He shifted—long limbs twitching with restrained energy. You could feel his excitement barely contained. Still hiding. Still unsure if he was allowed to be part of this home again. Still a secret part of him that felt the need to hide between the shadows of these walls.

You turned over your shoulder and said gently, “Jack.”

A pause.

“…Come out. You don’t have to hide around here anymore.”

That was all it took.

FWOOOSH—

A gust of feathers exploded behind you like a dramatic stage reveal, and suddenly Jack was flying into the room, cackling with glee as he scooped Oliver right off the floor, spinning him through the air like a ragdoll.

“Ollyollyoxenfreeeee!!” Jack cried, twirling Oliver by the ankles upside down. “My favorite little human! Did you miss me?! Huh?! Did you?!”

Oliver squealed with laughter, legs flailing in the air. “Jaaaaaack!!! You’re gonna drop me!!”

“Never!” Jack gasped, scandalized, flipping him into a princess cradle instead. “I’m offended. Mortally wounded! I would never drop my favorite friend.”

You had to lean against the wall, laughing at the scene: Oliver breathless with giggles, Jack circling around like a maniac, only to drop both of them onto the living room rug in a pile of crayons, limbs, and laughter. Jack’s sharp grin softened as Oliver grabbed a marker and pointed at the coloring book already spread on the floor. “I wanna show you my new friend! Her name’s Ellie, and she’s got this sparkly unicorn backpack, and she’s funny—like you!”

“Oh?” Jack’s eyes sparkled with delight, lying on his stomach beside the boy like a noodle. “Funny like me? Does she throw glitter bombs and hide dead rats in people’s shoes?”

Oliver blinked. “…No. But she gave me her chocolate milk.”

Jack placed a long, delicate hand over his heart. “A girl after my own heart.”

You sat cross-legged beside them, content just to watch the two draw—Jack doodling an absolutely deranged unicorn with vampire teeth and six legs, while Oliver scribbled big pink hearts around it. Every so often, Jack would look up at you, eyes half-lidded and warm. His smile would soften. He’d reach out with one long arm and drag you a little closer until your knee was pressed against his hip, and he’d hum softly through his nose, feathers twitching in contentment.

This was home now. Not the physical place, of course, but in every other way. You, Jack, Oliver—and a unicorn named Ellie.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, everything was okay.

── .✦

Headcannons!

At home…

Jack sleeps in your bed. Always. It was never even a discussion. The closet? Too dark. Under the bed? Too cramped. No, no, he’s tucked around you every night, gangly limbs wrapped tight, fluffy feathered collar like a plush cocoon. And if you move, he whines softly and pulls you tighter.

He leaves feathers everywhere. You’ll open the fridge and one flutters out. You find them in the shower drain, your boots, even your favorite mug. Jack insists it’s just his way of marking his territory.

Jack refuses to be out of touching distance. When you’re on the couch, he slinks up behind you and tugs you into his lap. When you’re cooking, he wraps his arms around your waist, humming softly into your shoulder. He is so touch-starved and now? He’s completely spoiled.

“You always smell like strawberries,” he’ll mumble, nosing along your jaw. “My favorite treat.”

He doesn’t sleep often—he just watches you. Not in a creepy way (okay… kind of creepy), but in awe. He doesn’t understand how something can be so soft and safe and his. Sometimes you wake up to find him gently brushing your hair behind your ear, studying you like he’s trying to remember every detail.

He lives for physical affection now. Laps it up like it’s air. Kisses all over. Back of your hand, your cheek, the inside of your wrist. He especially loves when you kiss him first. Makes him go all fluttery and giggly.

“Careful now, sweetheart,” he’ll purr, voice gravelly and thick with want, “I might start thinking you like me.”

At the Daltons’…

Oliver has adjusted beautifully. He’s happier, lighter, and even more talkative. Jack shows up on occasion (when he’s not being seen by everyone else, of course), perching on the roof or slithering through the walls just to peek at Oliver’s smile.

You both go visit once or twice a week. Mrs. Dalton now greets you with warm hugs and often coffee already made. She’s grateful. You saved her son and her sanity. There’s no doubt she can feel the shift in the atmosphere.

Jack pretends to be grumpy about being passed around like a family pet, but the second Oliver throws his arms around him, Jack melts like sugar.

“Didn’t I tell you not to get bigger than me?” Jack teases, picking Oliver up with ease.

“You’re still taller,” Oliver snorts, giggling.

“Only because I cheat,” Jack whispers, growing an extra inch for show.

Jack absolutely adores when Oliver calls you both “his favorites.” He’ll puff up, nuzzle into you proudly, and whisper things like: “See? He loves me and he loves you. We’re basically meant to be.”

You and Jack help Oliver with school sometimes. Jack is awful at math but makes it fun—turning subtraction into a “clown magic trick” that ends with Oliver cracking up.

Favorite traditions…

Ice Cream nights. The three of you pile onto the couch, Jack somehow always managing to spill sprinkles everywhere. He always gets some on your nose just so he can lick it off.

Bedtime Stories. Oliver insists on one from each of you. Yours are soothing and soft. Jack’s are bizarre and involve candy kingdoms, giant bugs, and chaotic heists. Oliver falls asleep happy every time.

Art Days. Jack loves when Oliver draws him. Sometimes Oliver gifts them to you, proudly declaring: “Jack told me you’re his favorite person ever. So I drew you both!”

Relationship…

Jack doesn’t get the concept of dating. He understands possession. Attachment. Obsession. But actual human relationships with communication, comfort, and mutual boundaries? Yeah… he’s gonna need help.

“Wait—you mean I can’t just crawl into your closet and live there forever? But we’re in love.”

You have to explain things like “being overwhelmed,” “just cuddling instead of trying to lick my face off,” and why you can’t always kiss when you’re trying to cook dinner and prevent the house from burning down.

Clingy. Like, dangerously so. Jack is all twisted limbs and endless affection. He doesn’t just hug you—he wraps around you like a possessive feathered python.

“I missed you,” he’ll whimper, when you’ve only been in the shower for five minutes.

Jealous and possessive to the point it’s dangerous. The poor mailman has been scared away by a horrifying face over your shoulder more times than you can count. He doesn’t understand why people linger around you for too long, he doesn’t like it. You have to explain that it’s just them being nice. He doesn’t care, he thinks only he should be able to have you.

He trails you everywhere in the house. If you’re on the couch, he’s coiled around your back like a weighted blanket. If you’re cooking, he’s behind you, chin on your shoulder, muttering compliments and licking your neck just to fluster you.

Flirting? Oh he’s a natural—when he doesn’t know he’s doing it. Jack is accidentally filthy. Like unhinged.

“Why are you making that face?” He smiles.

“You cannot say ‘you look delicious today’ while licking your lips like that.” You scowl back.

He doesn’t know what’s inappropriate and what’s seductive. You have to coach him through being soft. Teach him how to flirt without terrifying you at the same time.

Jack is so inexperienced he has to ask questions constantly. But he’s also desperate to learn. He wants to do it right. For you.

“Did I do that part right? The tongue thing. Do you like it when I do that?” Meanwhile, you’re panting so hard and your eyes are so blurry you can hardly nod your approval.

He memorizes every sound you make. Every flutter of breath. If you gasp, he’ll repeat the same movement ten more times with a grin that stretches just a little too wide.

Afterwards, he gets clingy and smug, purring like a cat. “You’re gonna let me do that again, right? Say yes. Say it now.”

Jack doesn’t understand why he feels what he feels. It confuses him. You’ll catch him sitting cross-legged on the couch, staring at you with those spiraling eyes.

“I used to only care about Oliver. And candy. But now… when you leave a room, I get cold. That’s weird, right?”

You teach him how to talk about it. He learns how to say “I missed you” without getting frantic. How to kiss you on the forehead instead of shoving his tongue down your throat every time he’s touched emotionally.

But he always wants to be touching you. He’ll pull your hand into his lap just to trace your fingers and murmur, “This one’s my favorite. No reason. It just is.”

He tries to help around the house, but forgets what he’s doing halfway through. “I was gonna fold the laundry, but I saw your bra and started thinking about how it looks on the floor. Can we kiss now?”

He puts your photo on the fridge with glitter glue and googly eyes. There’s one of Oliver’s Kindergarten graduated right next to it.

And finally…

One night, after a long day of Oliver playing with his new friend, Jack curls around you in bed, chin on your shoulder. “You know,” he murmurs, voice soft and rough, “I’ve been around for a long, long time. But nothing’s ever felt quite like this.”

“Like what?” you whisper, brushing back a black lock from his cheek.

He nuzzles into your palm, eyes closing. “Like home.”

And down the hall, Oliver sleeps soundly. No monsters under the bed. No fear in the dark.

Because the monster is in your bed now—and he only has eyes for you.

꩜ .ᐟ

[louloulemons-posts]

I’m not a baby

Bob Reynolds X Reader

Word Count : 0.4k

Summary : Bobs feeling a bit frustrated being treated like a child.

Warnings : Not many, just Bob being annoyed at the team lmao. Just comfort fluff, no angst.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Hey,” i said softly, leaning on the doorframe. “Oh … hi,” Bob mumbled, looking down at his hands.

“Can i come in?” With a nod of his head in reply i stepped into his room. “It’s cosy in here,” i compliment. It was, he’d made his room into a snuggly cave - books, candles, fairy lights, blankets and throw cushions.

“Did you … um did you need something?” He questions, half looking at me. “I know you’re having a rough day and I didn’t want to point it out in front of the others … so I just thought i’d check in privately.”

“Oh … um .. i’m fine.”

“Bob,” i gave him a look.

“Okay … maybe i’m not, but i will be.” I hummed and sat down beside him, leaving a gap.

“It’s okay if you’re not right now. That’s all i wanted to say, and i’m not here to pressure you to open up about everything, I just wanted to let you know i’m here.”

He finally met my gaze them, “Really?”

“Of course, we’re friends, and i get if you don’t wanna talk to me and would rather speak to Lena-“

He cut me off with a shake of his head, “I like talking to you too. I just … can i ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“And you’ll be completely honest with me?”

“Bob when am i not honest?”

“That’s … true,” he chuckled weakly. “It’s just all the stuff with the Sentry … i feel like everyone’s treating me like a baby and like i’m weak, i’m a fully grown man you know. And i know I was a mess and I know about the Void and i get that you all worry and-“

“I’m sorry,” i cut him off. Bobs brows furrowed, he looked at me confused, “What? For what?”

“If you felt like i’ve been babying you, I promise that wasn’t my intention and I’ll keep it in mind.”

“I … thank you.”

“Of course, thank you for telling me.” He nodded, tugging his sleeves over his hand a bit. “Look i don’t think you’re a baby Bob, I know you’re an adult, I think we just wanna make sure you’re okay … I guess we just don’t know how to go about it huh?”

“I guess … I just don’t want you to see me as baggage.”

“I don’t, trust me Bob, you and Sentry and Void are not baggage, you’re complex and recovering … it’s a lot and i understand that to some degree … but if you need someone to rant to … i’m here okay?”

“Thank you … seriously, and thanks for not acting like i’m a kid.”

“Anytime,” i smiled, “Serious question tho.”

“What is it?” he questioned.

“Wanna get ice cream?”

A grin lit up Bobs face, grabbing my hand he dragged me to the elevator.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Okay so I know it’s been a while, I’m so sorry, life has been INSANE. I watched Thunderbolts and I’m in love with Lewis Pullman it’s not even funny.

Please leave any requests - doesn’t have to be for Bob specifically (Can be Bob Floyd, Rhett Abbott, etc)

Anyways, i’ve missed you very much, i hope this fic wasn’t too bad i’m kinda rusty lmao.

Love you all

- Lou

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Hi! I love your writing style and I had this in the back of my mind for a bit and I’m hoping you would put this into words if it inspires you but imagine Lando and Daniel wanting to prank Max before a big conference by slipping a little blue pill in his redbull but max has a fall that morning and scrapes his palms, and all of it culminates into him hiding in the locker changing rooms, taunted by his friends, unable to take care of himself because of the injuries and the reader as his PR manager finds him like 20 minutes before the conference and tries to convince him to let her help him out as “professionally” as possible (like a handjob maybe?) and maybe max wants to return the favour at some point?

Blue Pills - Max Verstappen

<word count - 3137>

warnings: badly written smut, technically a drink spiking, not proof read

"Max is too calm, we have to do something big this time." Daniel said, thinking over his time in Red Bull with the Dutchman. It was no secret that Daniel and Lando got up to all sorts of trouble together, and now Max Verstappen was their next victim.

So far, they had kept their pranks relatively harmless. They had stolen Charles' phone and texted Carlos some rather... risque messages, they had replaced Nicholas' Nutella with marmite, and they had stolen Kimi's drink. He wasn't very bothered.

Most of them were funny. Well, Charles didn't find it overly funny but Carlos did, so that was at least half of their goal accomplished. For Max, they needed something that was more than just a bit of a laugh. They needed something that people would remember. 

"We could try and stick something on his back?" Lando suggested, and Daniel shook his head immediately. 

"No. We need something that will actually rattle him. It's hard to get to Max." he said, wracking his brains for something. If only there was a way to- oh, oh. Now that would be good. "I've got it," Daniel beamed, the plan formulating perfectly in his head. 

"We've got to be sneaky about it, but we can definitely pull it off. I need you to be a distraction for me, OK? Then we just let the magic happen," Daniel said, and Lando was curious to know what the Australian had up his sleeve, but he was sure that he'd find out sooner rather than later. 

"OK, sure." Lando nodded, already liking where this was going. The papaya pair planned how they were going to execute their devious plan, trying to keep their voices down so that no one would hear them. 

Meanwhile, Max was in medical. On track, he was careful and clinical beyond belief. He didn't make many mistakes. But when his two feet were firmly, or not so, planted on the ground, he was one of the clumsiest men you could find. 

He was literally just walking through the paddock, when he tripped over his own feet and fell to the tarmac. He held his hands out to break the fall, ending up with his palms getting grazed to hell on the rough surface. Thankfully, there was no one around to witness it apart from you, but he could live with that. 

Being Max's PR manager meant that you spent a lot of time with him weekend in and weekend out, so you had become accustomed to his spells of ditsiness. He should have been glad you were there, since he wouldn't have gone to medical if you hadn't forced him to. 

All they did was clean them and wrap them, but he looked like a boxer walking around with his hands wrapped. At least he could hold things and at least he could still race. He just had to look at the positives.

To add insult to injury, Max had a press conference to go to. But first, you dropped him off to the hospitality centre for him to take a second and relax before he had to go into the worst part of his weekend. Of course, he wouldn't be Max if he didn't have his trusty Red Bull in hand, so you picked an ice cold one up for him on your way. 

"You better be here when I go in or else I'm not going." he said, and you knew he was deadly serious. Max didn't give a shit, if he didn't want to go, then he wouldn't. The only reason that he ever went to any of his menial media obligations was for you. 

Your entire job was making sure he said the right thing and was where he was meant to be on time. He felt bad for giving you the amount of hassle that he did, but every driver did it to their PR manager. He knew how hard you worked, so he wasn't going to ruin it by being too much of a handful for you. 

You left him there while you went to run some quick errands, watching as Daniel and Lando approached him. Once you were gone, they waited for him to put his drink down before springing into action. "Hey Max, did I show you that video I got in Thailand? Of the waterfall in the sunset?" Lando asked, ready for everything to fall into place. 

"No, you didn't. Show me." Max said. He was intrigued.

"My phone's on charge. C'mon, I need a walk." Lando said.

"Sure," the Dutchman nodded. He had taken the bait. Lando and Max walked out of sight and left Daniel to carry out his master plan. Looking around to make sure that no one had their eyes on him, he produced two little blue pills from his pocket. 

They were embarrassing to buy, and he had to send some poor intern to get them so that he wouldn't be recognised. The last thing that he needed was people thinking that he needed viagra to get it up, because he most certainly didn't. 

Daniel wasn't actually sure how many he needed, as the pack stated various amounts for various levels of arousal. So, he opted for the one that he thought meant 'hard enough to be visible, but not so hard that it's impossible to get rid of'. 

He popped them through the top of the Red Bull can, watching the blue dissolve into the energy drink through the hole with a fizz. Just as the tablets had melted down, he heard Max and Lando's voices behind him. This was going to be amazing.

Max sat back down in his seat, holding Lando's phone in his hand as he scrolled through the videos from his trip to Thailand. With the other, he reached out and took a few sips of the Red Bull. Daniel and Lando glanced at each other, trying not to give away the fact that they were up to something. It tasted slightly off, but he didn't think much of it. 

You had gotten a fresh one from the fridge; he had seen you do it. It was probably just the heat making it taste a little weird. 

All of the drivers had been pretty on edge around them, not wanting to fall prey to their predatory pranks. Max didn't seem overly phased, though. Then again, he was used to it from having Daniel as a teammate and Lando as a long time friend. 

After talking for long enough, Max had finished the Red Bull. Daniel was stressing slightly. He was trying not to be too obvious as he looked at Max's crotch, looking for any sort of sign that the pills were actually working. 

Max, on the other hand, was trying to ignore the odd feeling of arousal that he was currently experiencing. For some reason, he was suddenly horny. Glancing down, he saw the slight bulge that was already forming in his jeans .

There wasn't even anything around him that he would find even remotely arousing, and now he was getting a full on hard on out of nowhere? Daniel and Lando both noticed the flush in his cheeks as he fidgeted in his seat, knowing that their plan had worked. 

"Just going to the toilet," Max choked out, wanting to get out of there before the extent of his problem could be realised. He was gone before the McLaren boys could make a comment, and they were going to let him sweat for a few minutes. 

"Did you see his face? Priceless," Daniel laughed.

"That is a genius idea, I like it." Lando giggled back, standing and going to follow Max to the changing rooms. He wanted to see this for himself. 

Daniel followed, both of them walking in to find Max pacing the locker rooms with a massive tent in his jeans. "Damn, Max. Didn't know you enjoyed media day that much." Lando laughed, and Max instantly knew. He had fallen victim to the infamous papaya pranksters.

"What did you do?" he asked, unable to hide the bite in his tone. He was all for harmless pranks, but this was downright humiliating. If people found out that he had gotten an erection in the middle of the paddock, he'd never live it down. Max Verstappen, 4 time world champ and the guy who gets bricked up when he has to do an interview. 

"We didn't do anything-" Daniel started with a smirk before Max cut him off. 

"What the fuck did you two idiots do?!" Max shouted, not caring who heard. 

"We just gave you one or two of those blue things..." Lando trailed off, suddenly thinking that this joke had gone a little too far. 

"Viagra? You gave me fucking viagra?! I've got a press conference!" Max raged, now realising that is all made sense. The sudden arousal, Daniel and Lando being a bit weird all day, the strange taste of his drink. They had spiked him, and now he was hard as a rock and had no way to deal with it. There was half an hour before the press conference, and he knew that this stuff lasted a while if the problem wasn't taken care of. 

That was when another issue cropped up: he couldn't take care of it. His hands were bandaged up and, even in his state, that would not feel good at all. There was no way that he could hide it, either. He was screwed. 

"Only two." Daniel clarified, as if that would make the situation better. Looking between Max, Lando, and Max's dick, Daniel quickly sussed out that this may not have been his brightest idea to date. They'd stick to prank texts next time. Well, if there was a next time if Max didn't murder both of them right then and there. 

"Fuck off, both of you. I'm not dealing with you and this at the same time," he warned, and they took the hint and walked out with their tails between their legs. The pair stayed silent as they left, and they spotted you stood in hospitality. You were looking for Max. 

"Have you two seen Max? He hasn't run off, has he?" you joked, but the looks on their faces told you that now certainly wasn't the time for joking.

"He's in the locker rooms. He's got a small... issue." Lando said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. You didn't know what they meant, so you took it upon yourself to go to the changing rooms. 

"Max? It's me. We've got to go." you called, opening the door and stepping through. 

"No, wait out there-" he started, but you were already in the room. Max was sat there, his jeans on the bench next to him while his lower half was only covered by his boxers. That was when you saw it. Max Verstappen. The man you spent every weekend with. The man that you worked closely with was sat in the locker rooms with a painfully hard dick. 

"What the hell happened to you?" you asked, trying to keep your eyes on his face rather than the obvious elephant in the room. 

"Those fuckers slipped me some viagra..." he mumbled, glad to admit that he wasn't just really horny but also embarrassed that he fell for it. 

You looked at him with sympathy, feeling bad that he was a prank victim. But, you were also thinking practically. There was no way that he could get out of this, but you wouldn't want to go out there and do a conference if you were like this either. 

"Can't you... sort it out?" you said, not wanting to be too crude. 

"Not with these," he scoffed, holding up his bandaged hands. Even if he took them off, it would still be really painful and wouldn't have the desired effect. It would probably just wind him up more.

That was when Max got an idea. It was a horrendous idea that could ruin your entire relationship, but it was an idea nonetheless. He hated the fact that he had even thought of this, let alone that he was actually going to ask it out loud. "Can you?" he asked. 

"Can I what?" you replied. Deep down, you knew what he was asking, but you didn't want to accept it. Even before he asked, you were contemplating your response. Something in your brain told you to do it. This was for both of your careers, so surely it would be worth it? At the end of the day, it was only Max.

The two of you were close, so what was getting him off going to do to your rapport with each other? Right, stupid question. That was going to do a lot to your relationship. It would make it so awkward, knowing that you had been intimate like that.

What excuse would you give for Max not being at the conference if you just left him to let the viagra wear off? He felt sick? His hands hurt too much? No, there wasn't time to formulate a story. "Can you sort this out? Just a handjob will do... like... just to get it over with..." he rambled, hating the words as they left his mouth.

"We never speak of this again, agreed?" you said, tentatively sitting next to him on the bench.

"Never again." he nodded, not fully believing that you were actually following through with this. "You don't even have to look," he gently said, taking the first step and pulling his erection out of his boxers.

Your eyes widened as you saw it. He was bigger than you expected, but you thought that it was probably the viagra helping him out. Precum was already beading at the tip, and you felt quite bad for him. 

"Ok... here goes..." you mumbled, spitting in your hand to create some lubrication. If he was being honest, Max thought it was one of the hottest things that he had ever seen. It was the first lick of genuine arousal that he had had all day, and he wasn't complaining.

You were unsure of whether you should look or if you could cancel out the awkwardness by looking away. But you found yourself looking as you gently took ahold of his hardened length. Max shuddered at the contact, and both of you knew that this wasn't going to take long. It was better that way. 

You rubbed your thumb over his tip, smearing precum over it while Max had to bite back a moan. If people heard from outside, they would be straight in and the two of you would never live that down. 

You started off slow, your hand moving up and down his shaft. You were trying to remove yourself from the situation, but you couldn't help but look at his face as his head was tipped back against the wall with his eyes screwed shut and his bottom lip firmly caught between his teeth. 

He looked damn handsome like this. Max's face was flushed with desire and his hair was perfectly ruffled from running his hands through it a few too many times. He was trying to keep quiet, but the whines he was letting out made heat pool between your legs. 

Picking up the pace, you pumped his dick faster, wanting to find the sweet spot of how fast he wanted you to go. "Fuck... just like that..." he mumbled, his breath stuttering as he let the pleasure consume him. He had to stop himself from bucking his hips up into the contact, revelling in the fact that he was finally relieving some of the pressure. 

As much as you hated to admit it to yourself, you were thoroughly enjoying this. There was a strange part of you that wanted to find out exactly what he liked and how he wanted you to do things. You got a better reaction out of him when you squeezed a bit harder. Just like his racing, Max didn't like things doing by halves. 

The natural reaction was for you to be just as turned on as he was. You had to remind yourself that this wasn't about pleasure, it was simply business. You were fixing the issue that had been caused by Daniel and Lando - even if the issue was jerking off a world champion driver. 

"I... I'm going to..." he trailed off, and you knew precisely what he meant. You sped up for one final time to get him there, Max's hand reaching out and gripping your thigh as if he were grounding himself as he came, spilling out onto your hand. 

You kept your movements up as he rode through the high, before he relaxed back against the wall and you stopped. Letting go, you just sat there and looked at each other. "Thank you..." he softly smiled, glad that you had saved him from definite embarrassment.

"That was... well I'm not going to lie to you and say that you weren't amazing," he chuckled and squeezed your thigh. He noticed how you were clenching your thighs together as if you were also craving some sort of friction. 

Before he could comment, you stood and went to get tissues. You passed him a few, and you went to the sink to wash your hands. You were washing your hands of Max's cum, which was something that you never thought you'd ever do. 

"Ha, thanks." you quietly laughed as you dried them off. Max was cleaning himself up, glad that Daniel and Lando hadn't given him any more pills than they had. One hand job was enough. "Come on, we've got to go."  you said, trying to distract from what the two of you had just done. 

"You'll have to let me return the favour one day, yeah?" he said, and he was being sincere. Max was all for fairness, and he wasn't just going to let this happen without you getting your fair share. He saw how much you wanted it, and he could see the faint hints of arousal still lingering in your eyes. 

"We're never discussing this again," you rushed, walking out of the locker room swiftly in front of him. He knew you wanted it just like he did, and he could feel himself stirring naturally this time. Now wasn't the time, though. 

As the two of you walked through hospitality and towards where the conference was taking place, Daniel and Lando watched on from afar. Max didn't have an erection anymore, and you looked flustered. Their minds were running at a thousand miles a minute, and it was like both of them connected the dots at the same time.

If looks could kill, the two of them would be dead as Max glared at them. They'd have to let sleeping dogs lie. For now. 

A/N - I loved writing this I can't even lie to you, this is one of my favourite requests that I have ever gotten! The smut is awful, I know it is 😂 Leave anymore requests in my inbox!

|masterlist|

[groovycreatormughoagie]

SIDE STORY: Song From The Soul || Rumi X Reader

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Note: Side story parts for Mira and Zoey are already in progress. Posting it until I finish the next chapter of the main series.

Tip: Ignore the lyrics and read the scenario happening if you have the music playing— if it helps <3

Warning: Song Fic / Established Relationship (Rumi x Reader) / use of swear word once (I think) / use of "Y/N" / not edited / not proofread thoroughly

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A livestream was announced on Y/N’s account that people immediately flocked to, already questioning the title of the live.

“Very Special Announcement LIVE”

You smiled at the camera as the view count climb higher, waving at eager messages from fans— they were technically Huntr/x fans, but a handful seemed to adore you along with the girls. Many are supporters of you and Rumi’s relationship together after the public announcement.

“Hello, everyone.” You greet with a chuckle, “I know this isn’t like me to suddenly stream live, but the girls aren’t home yet and I figured why not get this over with?"

A familiar username caught your eye that made you smile, “I hope you all enjoy this small song I made about a special someone while you all watch a video I started stitching together months ago. You already know who she is and how special she is to me.”

You pull up your guitar and the worn notebook filled with scratched off lyrics, notes, and tweaks in the pages.

Fans freaked out at the realization you were going to sing live! No one ever heard you sing besides a joking one with Zoey’s stream rapping poorly.

Switching the screen to share your interface that showed the video you edited together for this grand gesture for your girlfriend. Then you plucked your guitar strings and began your own performance as the video played for the audience.

===( Now Playing: Understand - Keshi )===

Never thought that I'd find

That the one in my life would be so near

And now you're here

The video starts in your POV. Mainly clips and candid videos of Rumi. Her and the girls performing up on stage and then behind in the backstage where she was grinning at the camera after the concert, waving her hands up to her chest as she walked to you, making funny faces at your camera.

I got you, you got me

When it's us, babe, you make me feel complete

You're all I need

The scene fades to the dance studio, the trio all exhausted from practice and practically laid down flat on the wooden floors. Your hand popped on the corner of the screen, holding a water bottle to the sweaty idol. She looks up and smiles bright, the studio lights contouring her face nicely under their bright glow as she reaches up and take the water with a grateful smile.

Ooh, ooh

Maybe we can try it if you let me

Take you by the hand

You're the only one who understands

The POV changes to secretly recorded clips of your dates around in public. Each frame were pictures from coffees, books, feeding stray cats, and visiting an aquarium. It transitioned to a video of you two hand-holding as you two strolled down a boardwalk, watching seagulls that Rumi points out with a laugh, but your eyes never left her face. Admiring her more than the world around the two of you. Eyes softening its gaze when the sunlight made her marks glow ever so elegantly with iridescent shimmer. Your own marks pulsing their own faint glow in reciprocation to her own happiness.

So I guess that it's time

I asked you to be mine for all my days

I hope you'll stay

Then a small clip of you giving yourself a pep-talk to the camera, smiling nervously as you held a bouquet of flowers and a boxed present in your arms.

"I'm finally going to ask her to be my girlfriend! Wish me luck, future us!"

The gifts in your arms were recognized by fans as Rumi posted about it after your public announcement of your relationship, saying how it was your gift when you asked her out to be officially together.

I'll admit that I'm scared

'Cause I've never really cared as much as this

It's worth the risk

The video showed a montage of time lapses. Each one shows how devoted you are to your work as a bodyguard, but also how you spent nights writing and spilling your heart out for the girl in secret before you had the courage to ask her. Your old self grinned bright at the camera with each success of your projects and progress of many handcrafted gifts you present to Rumi on birthdays or events.

"This one represents a turtle we helped on the beach-"

"She saw a concept art she really liked, and I decided to make it for her-" "It's a little crooked, but I'm hoping she won't mind-" "This one is a callback of our second date-" "This night lamp just reminds me of her-"

"All of this is worth it... She's worth everything..."

You flash a weary smile at the camera, tired but proud of your words. The bags under your eyes were enough evidence of how much you truly cared, making her a personalized present each time, never failing to show how vulnerable and sentimental you are when it involves her.

Ooh, ooh

Maybe we can try it if you let me

Take you by the hand

You're the only one who understands

Ooh, ooh, ooh

The clip fades to a serene garden view, golden hour that peeked through leaves and foliage. It kept fading through clips of flowers and wisterias, then to the two of you. Dancing in the middle of it like nothing else mattered. A slow and intimate sway that held no pattern or counting like what she’s used to, just you and her falling to step synced into one.

Ooh, ooh

Maybe we can try it if you let me

Take you by the hand

You're the only one who understands

The video fades into you on your knee holding up a ring to Rumi, a soft smile plastered on your face of pure adoration at the girl in front of you. She takes the ring and leaps into your arms, crying, as the two of you fall into the clovers and dandelions below, laughing with joy—caught faintly by the camera, the laughter and giggles fading as the video ends to a black screen.

==( End Song )==

The video presentation was closed and your face returned on the screen, squinting as you navigate the controls for the live.

“Oh, there we go.” You chuckle, leaning back and patting your guitar. “Did you guys liked it?”

Everyone in the chat was freaking the fuck out. From happy congratulations and sobbing emojis, to frantic and bewildered questions of you two being engaged.

[QuacksDuck4] "I'M SOBBING!"

[1stRumiF4N] "IS THIS FOR REAL?!"

[DramaLlama] "WAITTT I'M NOT READY PLSSS!"

[BurgerBitesYoAss] "YOU CANNOT JUST DROP THE NEWS LIKE THAT!!"

[HuntrixRHawt] "WHEN'S THE WEDDING?!"

“I had permission to announce it.” You stated with a cheeky grin towards the camera, eyes scanning the chat for the specific username again. “She didn’t tell me how I should do it though, so why not do it the Y/N way?”

The door opens and came in was Derpy with Sussy on its head. Behind them was your one and only girlfriend, now fiancée and who you cannot wait to marry.

“Hey.” You greet all innocently, petting the tiger while the magpie perched on your head.

“You five had fun outside?” You asked as you put away your notebook and guitar. Rumi sat next to you and let out a soft laugh.

“Yes. The girls and I used this big guy here as a sled. Very fun, I’d recommend.”

Derpy just purrs and plops its big body on the bed behind you. We laugh and read some comments on the livestream.

“You told them already?” The idol asked with curiosity as she watched the congratulations on the screen fly by with great speeds.

“Mhm! I promise I didn’t do anything weird.” She squints at you with suspicion.

“What did you do?”

“You’ll just have to wait until the VOD is up or the internet blows it trending.” You giggle, as your marks shimmered mischievously while poking her nose, which made her grumble and gently swat your hand away.

“Fineee,” she rolls her eyes with a smile before pecking your cheek, then stands up, “let’s go eat lunch. We brought takeouts on the way here.”

She walks out while you called out to her, “be right there!”

You turn your head back to the camera and grinned bright. “I hope she likes it, everyone. Credits to Zoey and Mira helping me with the videos too, they don't know about this video. They just thought I'm making a compilation video."

The username you kept looking out for pops out again and made you smile at the comment attached to it.

[BobbyBestDadManager]: “I can’t wait for the ceremony! You’re doing amazing, sweetheart!”

You just chuckled at the absurdity of it all, how your life came to be. “Thanks, Bobby. I’ll make sure you’re flown here for the arrangements too. I want you to be included to everything of this special milestone. Honorary dad."

A small wave was all you gave the camera with a warm smile, “thank you everyone for sticking around.” You leaned close and whispered to the mic, “make sure to mention and spam Rumi’s account for this stream! Hehehe! Byeee!”

>—{ The Livestream Has Ended} }—<

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I couldn’t post a new chapter of the KPDH X Reader series yet because I write the chapters as I watch the movie over and over again. So bear with this side story instead <3 I PROMISE I'LL FEED YOU ALL THE MAIN COURSE MEAL! BEAR WITH THE APPETIZERS FOR A WHILE

Chapter 5 will be long, unless you guys want me to cut it up into decently lengthened parts.

I literally have no idea how I wrote this or how this came to be when I was going to bed last night.

Btw— Still figuring out the dividers and pictures thingies

(I'm not gonna tag people on this post because I don't know if y'all are interested getting notifs for fillers and side stories or if you guys just want the main series. Let me know okay? ❤)

[simspaghetti]

Took me a while, but I finally sourced the mods I use for Late Night gameplay - you can find the rest of my EP lists all linked here under ‘Modpack Lists’ :)

Firstly, an important note about Bridgeport performance & mods:

Bridgeport is a notoriously unreliable town, I personally only got it to load once I had a big mod cleanout, but I know other people haven't had problems with this, so it seems to be luck of the draw tbh - if you're going to be playing in Bridgeport, I'd recommend limiting your mods to the bare essentials as much as possible - make sure you don't have a whole bunch of script mods installed at once, as that appears to be a contributing factor, and uninstalling resource-heavy mods such as NRAAS Storyprogression has helped others as well - anyways, good luck & I hope you're able to get it to work!

And as always, if you have any other suggestions of mods I should add to this list, please let me know!

With that disclaimer out of the way, onto my modpack for Late Night! ⬇️

EllaCharmed's Fixed Bridgeport

I've heard mixed things about the world fixes, but Bridgeport is so buggy I couldn't get it to work no matter what I tried (I think my mods folder is too big) - some people said this fix worked for them and it's worth a try if you're having issues!

NRAAS Overwatch

This mod is an essential in any sims 3 save - but especially in Bridgeport as cars / sims tend to get stuck way more often!

Faster Elevator Moving / Loading

This can help reduce lag in cities with elevators as normally they take an age

LN Camera Fix

This fixes the issue with the camera in high-rises going all over the place when you're in tab mode, and allows you to control it better - it also removes camera drift & increases the camera lower / maximum placement This mod is incompatible with Aikea Guinea's lower/no drift camera mod - but it has all the same features as that mod, so you can just replace it!

Ani's SimDrinks / 'Get Drunk' Mod / Drunk Walk Version / PhoebeJaySim's Drunk Mod

Gives your sims moodlets / reckless impulsive interactions / mood buffs depending on how much 'juice' they have at the bar, which makes clubbing much more fun imo - the only thing about Ani's mod that's kind of unrealistic is that the moodlets last 24 hours! But for me, the entertainment factor of my sims turning up to work still drunk from the night before is pretty funny, so the length of the moodlet doesn't bother me :P

The 'Drunk Walk' version makes sims walk with the 'pond walk' from Seasons when they have the 'drunk' buff (I'm not sure if seasons is required for this to work, but it might be!)

PhoebeJaySim's Mod is newer and it has quite a few more interactions available!

LazyDuchess's Lot Population Mod

This one is an essential for any town really - but it's especially good in Bridgeport as it means the clubs and so called 'hot spots' actually have other sims in them instead of being completely empty

New Dance Routines Mod

Adds in new dance interactions for sims, using animations from the sims 4 - sims will do these actions autonomously so it adds in a bit more variety for nightclubs

Subway Charge

Does what it says on the tin, sims now have to pay a variable amount for a subway journey based on their age

Less Space Needed for playing Bass

Very small fix that reduces routing issues with sims playing the bass

No Stretch 'Children Can' Series

As well as adding a bunch of interactions from other EPs, this mod also allows ur kiddos to play the instruments that come with Late Night, which is my favourite use of this mod (as it makes no sense to me that kids can't learn the piano until they're teenagers!)

Better 'Lifestyle of the Rich & Famous' LTW

Updates this LTW to make the money goal higher and adds in a 5-star celebrity requirement - making it much better for Late Night gameplay

Celebrity Difficulty Mod

Makes becoming a celebrity variably more difficult depending on what version you choose - this also makes the celeb system less annoying as your sims have much less of a chance of accidentially becoming famous This mod also alters what actions are seen as 'disgraceful', so getting divorced or having a child out of wedlock will no longer make your sim be banished from society

Bouncers want bigger bribes

This list is becoming 'how to make your sims lives harder' but that's just how I like to play my game lol I love a struggle - anyway this mod does what it says on the tin - bouncers want higher bribes so your sim genuinely won't be able to get into an exclusive lounge if they're broke (which makes gameplay much more realistic)

Only Papparazzi / Occult can 'Eat Cake' from Cowplant

This mod is really silly, but I love it because it means you can pop a cowplant outside your celebrity houses to act as a bodyguard against paparazzi - which I think is just a really fun feature bc paps are annoying asf and there's not really another way to protect against them lol

🦇Vampire Mods:🦇

sHoNi's Vampire Overhaul

I personally use Bite, Minor Things and Thirst - it alters some things about vampires that used to be small annoyances for me (eg: you now don't have to ask to bite sims, you can just attack them - which makes much more sense!)

Nraas Vampires & Slayers (Storyprogression Module)

Contains a bunch of new 'personalities' for NPC vampires, this basically makes them a bit more dangerous / impactful to the gameplay of your town as NPCs will convert other sims to be vampires etc

Dead People Don't Glow

This stops vampires having that visual 'glow' override that can look kind of weird and yellow/greenish - this mod has been said to work for some peoples games and not others, I have no idea why that is, but it works for me on the most recent patch! I'd recommend putting it in your 'overrides' folder instead of your main 'packages / mods' folder as that appears to make a difference for some if it's not working

Silent Vampire Run & Powers

Turns off the noise for some of the vampire effects - which can get obnoxious / annoying after a while if you're playing with a main sim who's a vampire

Human lifespan for supernatural sims

Some people love the fact that vampires (and other occults) are basically immortal in TS3 - I'm not one of them as I usually play vampires in households with other human sims and it annoys me that they don't age, this mod makes it so that they live a normal lifespan :)

NectarCellar's Vampire CC: Default Replacement Bite & Accessory Fangs

This is not a mod - but I couldn't help but put this CC in here because it really improves the look of Vamps imo!

[actuallynickels]

Inspired by the previous ask I got, I wanted to talk about some thoughts I have on shipping, not just with Digital Circus, but with all fandoms.

Also to be clear: NO HATE TO THAT USER! They just had a valid question that activated my fandom autism lmao

I think fandom spaces would get 1000% less toxic if people stopped touting what ships would most likely be canon, should be canon, so on and so forth.

I generally see two camps when it comes to shipping and it feels a lot like one side just does not like the other because they can't understand them and it causes so much unnecessary fighting.

Camp 1: I just think they're neat -smashes characters together like barbies-

Camp B: I think these two have the best chemistry based on their canon dynamics and so I firmly believe they are/should be canon

Camp 1 is my camp. I just like smashing characters together and seeing how their dynamic would play out in fun scenarios regardless of canon and have no interest in how "realistic" it is. Going to use a real world example I experienced to demonstrate. Funny enough A LOT of people were toxic as hell to me back in the day because this is how I shipped Radiodust.

Love/Hate. Annoying the fuck out of each other. Basically zero romance. Tons of fun.

This is where Camp B comes in. And I want to be clear not everyone on this general side of shipping is shitty or toxic. But a lot of people who see shipping as an exercise in what should or should not be canon then started to swoop in and make all sorts of insane claims that I support abuse and in particular the abuse of queer men??? and that I'm acephobic???????

And I think this happens because Camp B folks who think of shipping only in terms of canon don't/can't understand that not everyone shares that mindset like Camp 1. So to Camp B these weird unrealistic ships feel almost like an attack on them and the canon if that makes sense?

I completely understand how it feels that way. And let me be CLEAR. There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with shipping according to the canon. That can be super fun as well! I have a lot of ships that line up with canon just as much as I have absurd ones. However I think the issue comes in when people who ship according to their vision of canon then believe they have the CORRECT opinion and need to be validated by the canon.

The things you love are valid by the sheer virtue of you enjoying them. It doesn't need to be canon or validated by anyone else but YOU!

But anyway thanks for sticking with my long winded rant lmao

TL;DR Shipping is silly and fun. Don't take it seriously.

[scarletwinterxx]

Hi!! omg I have request after the damage performance! I desperately need a Hoshi x backup dancer one shot or whatever is possible!

i've been thinking about how or what to write for him. I think the star aligned just right😅 hope you like this one! it's more of the backstage happenings instead of what we saw during the concert, kind of what lead to that dance🫢

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

The studio is buzzing. Mmirrors fogging slightly from the heat, dancers running through their counts, and music blaring in stops and starts as Woozi calls out minor adjustments. Hoshi's solo stage is up next. You’ve already choreographed most of it, but there's this one move that's been a point of playful debate all morning.

That one particular move.

You know the one.

The music dips. Hoshi steps forward, all smolder and sharp lines, then reaches out to the imaginary female partner. His hand curls under an invisible chin  slow, deliberate, gaze locking in close.

It’s… intense.

And no one’s volunteered to be the demo partner yet.

“You know,” one of the dancers chimes in, stretching casually, “we still haven’t figured out who’s going to do the chin lift moment.”

“I nominate literally anyone else,” you mutter under your breath, pretending to scribble notes on your clipboard.

But you’re not fast enough.

There’s a beat of silence like a synchronized attack, three dancers suddenly spin toward you with identical grins.

“You,” they all say in unison, pointing.

You blink. “Me?”

Hoshi’s on the other side of the room gulping from a water bottle, but you can feel his smirk forming before you even look up. Sure enough, when you do, he’s biting the inside of his cheek like he’s trying very hard not to laugh.

Woozi doesn’t help. “Makes sense,” he says dryly. “You’re the choreographer. Best if you show us exactly how it should look.”

You’re about to protest  you really are but Hoshi’s already walking toward you, towel slung around his neck, gaze lazy, teasing. “C’mon,” he says, voice low but playful. “Let’s show them how it’s done, sunbaenim.”

You glare at him for the title. He knows you hate it when he calls you that in front of people.

Still, professionalism, right? You hand your clipboard to Woozi like you're not screaming inside and step onto the center floor.

Hoshi takes his position, feet already angled to frame you. “Just choreography,” he whispers under his breath, leaning close enough that you catch a faint hint of his cologne. “No funny business.”

“You’re literally about to grab my face.”

“I’ll be gentle,” he teases with a wink, just quiet enough that no one else hears.

The music cues.

You count the beats — one, two, three — and then he steps forward. His hand tilts your chin up, slow and fluid, and just like in rehearsal notes, you step in close. The air gets heavier. Everyone’s watching, but it almost doesn’t matter. Hoshi’s gaze doesn’t leave yours. His thumb brushes just under your lip — too smooth, too practiced.

And then someone coughs from the side. Loudly.

You both jump slightly apart.

“I mean,” one dancer says, eyebrows raised. “If you two were dating, you could just say so.”

“We’re not,” you and Hoshi say at the same time. Way too fast, way too in sync.

The room explodes with laughter.

Woozi just shakes his head, muttering, “Uh-huh. Sure.”

And Hoshi?

He just smirks at you and says, “Wanna run that again? For… clarity.”

You consider smacking him with your clipboard. Instead, you roll your eyes and step back into place.

Just choreography. Totally professional. Absolutely nothing going on.

The music shifts to the main chorus. Everyone resets, falling into line as the beat builds again. You slip back into your role, weaving through dancers with sharp eyes and a quick clap here and there to mark transitions. Hoshi’s locked in, of course. All muscle memory and focus though you catch the occasional glance he throws your way, smug little thing.

After the fifth run-through, Woozi finally calls a five-minute break, practically collapsing against the mirrors. Dancers scatter for water and towels, catching their breath.

You plop down near the speaker, scribbling a note into your tablet. A shadow falls beside you before you feel someone sit down, shoulder brushing yours.

“Don’t,” you murmur without looking up, just loud enough for him to hear.

“What?” he says, all wide-eyed innocence you absolutely do not believe.

“You know what.”

“I just came to sit,” he hums. “Can’t sit beside my favorite choreographer?”

You lift your head just enough to squint at him. “Kwon Soonyoung.”

He presses a hand to his chest. “Wah, government name already? I didn’t even do anything yet.”

“You exist in my peripheral vision too flirtily.”

He snorts. “Too flirtily? That’s not even a real word.”

“It is now,” you mutter, going back to your tablet.

You feel him leaning in a bit, just enough for his voice to drop lower, teasing. “Is it the move? You’re flustered from earlier, huh?”

You don’t answer. He nudges your leg with his knee.

“You totally are.”

“Kwon. Soonyoung.”

He grins, biting his lip, clearly enjoying himself. “Do you always say my full name when you’re pretending you’re not into me?”

You give him the slowest side-eye humanly possible. “I say your full name when I’m trying not to throw you into a mirror.”

He leans back on his hands, head tilted. “That’s still touching.”

You groan into your hands. “Please go be insufferable somewhere else.”

“Can’t. You’re my favorite person to be insufferable around.”

From across the room, Woozi calls, “Break’s over in one.”

You stand and dust your hands off, already walking away. “Great. Go burn off some of that charm with actual choreography.”

As you turn, you hear him call after you, low and smug, “Yes, ma’am.”

And you don’t see it, but behind you, he’s grinning like he just won a game no one else knows he’s playing.

The rehearsal wraps just past golden hour, the light outside dimming while the studio lights hum overhead. Everyone’s sprawled out across the floor. Dancers with tired limbs, Woozi nursing a bottle of water like his life depends on it, and you barely hanging onto consciousness with your notes stacked on your lap.

It’s the final team meeting before the venue rehearsals. Hyelim ssaem stands near the whiteboard with her clipboard in hand, tapping her pen rhythmically. Everyone perks up slightly. Even Hoshi, who’s been lying flat on the floor like a starfish for the past five minutes, lifts his head.

“Okay,” Hyelim ssaem begins, voice steady and commanding, “great job today. Really. I know this one’s been a tight schedule, but I’m proud of how far we’ve come.”

There’s a collective murmur of thank yous and small bows.

She flips a page. “Let’s just run through the last few solo stage notes before we call it.”

Your head’s already tilted down, scribbling something on your tablet, only half-listening.

“Woozi’s stage is locked in,” she continues. “Live band, lighting cues in, final cut to be sent tomorrow.”

Woozi raises a lazy hand in confirmation.

Then Hyelim ssaem glances at Hoshi. “And for Hoshi’s solo—specifically the break during the bridge—”

You freeze.

Everyone else? Turns. In perfect synchronicity.

To you.

It’s like a wave. Heads swivel, dancers grin, someone even does a dramatic little drumroll on their water bottle. You don’t even look up. “No.”

Hyelim ssaem barely pauses. “Right. So that’s decided then.”

Your head shoots up. “Ssaem—!”

“I think it’s perfect,” she says cheerfully, like you didn’t just open your mouth to protest. “You choreographed it. You know the pace. And your chemistry with Hoshi-ssi is very… natural.”

You choke on absolutely nothing. “What—?!”

“Settled,” she smiles. “Let’s get it blocked properly on stage tomorrow. Great work today, everyone!”

A round of applause breaks out as people begin packing up.

You’re still frozen in place when a shadow falls over you. Hoshi’s standing there, towel around his neck, smug grin in full effect.

“Natural chemistry, huh?”

You glare. “Kwon Soonyoung.”

He crouches beside you, eyes sparkling with a little too much joy. “You know, I didn’t even say anything this time.”

You snap your tablet shut. “Because you didn’t have to. Your smug aura did all the work.”

He stands and offers a hand to pull you up. “Look at it this way. You’re already the highlight of my solo.”

=

It’s much later, after rehearsal you’re just ready to call it a day.

You’re standing in the kitchen, hair still damp from your shower, oversized shirt hanging loose over your shorts, stirring tteokbokki over a low flame. The apartment is quiet, save for the faint bubbling of the sauce and the soft lo-fi playing from your phone.

It’s late, too late for you to be eating, too late for anyone to be visiting  but you’re starving and too wired from rehearsal to sleep. Then you hear it. The soft mechanical beep-beep-beep-beep-beep click of the door code being punched in.

You pause mid-stir, glancing toward the hallway. The lock disengages with a soft clunk, and then the door creaks open.

You don’t even have to ask.

His voice echoes through the apartment a second later, casual and familiar and far too chipper for someone who should be just as exhausted as you.

“Yah, you started eating without me?”

You huff out a laugh and call back, “Don’t you have your own kitchen?”

His footsteps come down the hallway, slow and heavy with that dancer drag, like even gravity knows how dramatic he is.

“Yours tastes better,” Hoshi says as he walks in, already tugging off his jacket. “Plus, my kitchen doesn’t come with you.”

You don’t turn around. “You’re late.”

He appears beside you, peering into the pan like he owns the place  which, to be fair, with how often he’s here, he might as well. His hand finds the small of your back like it’s habit.

You swat him away with your spatula. “Hands off. This is boiling. I will not hesitate.”

He holds both hands up in surrender, grinning. “Wow, scary. You’re still mad about earlier?”

You raise a brow. “You mean the part where literally everyone turned to me like I was the lead actress in your romantic drama? Or the part where Hyelim ssaem volunteered me before I could say anything?”

He shrugs, leaning against the counter with that maddening little smirk. “I think you liked it.”

“Kwon Soonyoung.”

“What? The chemistry’s real. Even ssaem said so.”

You flick a rice cake at him. It bounces off his chest.

He gasps, hand over his heart. “Violence?”

“Starve, then.”

But you’re already plating a second bowl. He grins, watching you with that quiet, soft look that he always seems to wear when you're not paying full attention. 

“I knew you loved me.”

You slide the bowl across the counter and give him a flat look. “I tolerate you. At best.”

He takes a bite, eyes closing dramatically. “Your tolerance tastes amazing.”

You shake your head, finally sitting across from him. “You're annoying.”

He just grins wider. “You keep letting me in.”

“Only because you memorized my door code.”

“Knew it’d come in handy,” he says with a wink.

And in the soft hum of the night, with late snacks and low lights and tired hearts, it’s easy to forget the line between work and whatever this is.

He goes quiet for a moment, chopsticks paused mid-air as he just… looks at you. The way he does sometimes. No teasing, no smirking, just that unreadable seriousness behind his eyes.

You glance up from your bowl, catching it. That look.

“What?” you mumble, mouth half-full of rice cake. “Do I have gochujang on my face?”

“No,” he says, setting his bowl down. “You know you’re perfect for that part, right? Not just because you’re my girlfriend.”

You blink.

He leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, voice lower. “It’s because you’re good. You choreographed the whole thing. No one else moves the way you do.”

You snort, leaning back with a roll of your eyes. “Look at you, trying to make up for throwing me under the bus.”

He smirks again, but there’s a softness in it now. “I didn’t throw you. I guided you gently under it. With love.”

“Wow,” you deadpan. “So thoughtful.”

“I thought so.”

You squint at him. “You’re lucky I like your face.”

He shrugs, smug. “A lot of people do.”

You chuck a napkin at him. “You’re not supposed to agree with that.”

He catches it mid-air like a reflex, winks. “Sorry. Forgot I’m supposed to be humble when I’m with my talented, gorgeous, terrifying when she’s mad girlfriend.”

You try not to smile but fail. “Kwon Soonyoung…”

“I mean it,” he says softer, picking up a slice of fishcake and holding it out to you. “You’re the best person for that solo. On or off stage.”

You lean forward and take the bite, chewing slowly. “You’re still not off the hook.”

He laughs, reaching across the table to steal a bite from your bowl.

And despite the long day, the exhaustion, the chaos of hiding something that’s become the best part of your life, in this moment, it feels simple. Familiar. His chopsticks clink against yours, and his foot nudges yours under the table.

Later, the kitchen’s been cleaned up in lazy half-effort, bowls soaking in the sink, and the two of you are finally sprawled out on the couch. Limbs tangled, your legs tossed over his lap, his hand absently tracing shapes against your calf.

The TV plays something neither of you are really watching, just soft background noise to the quiet comfort that’s settled in. Your head’s resting against a cushion, one of his hoodies thrown over your shoulders like a blanket.

You glance at him, his profile lit by the warm lamplight, hair still damp from his shower at the studio, eyes heavy with exhaustion but peaceful.

“I’m proud of you,” you say softly, out of nowhere.

His fingers pause for half a second.

“You’ve come a long way, Soonyoung-ah.”

He looks at you then, not teasing or smirking this time, just quietly surprised.

You smile, slow and sincere. “I’ve watched you push yourself past your limits, day in and day out. You work harder than anyone I know. You lead your team, you take care of everyone, and still somehow you manage to be you — all heart, all drive.”

His throat bobs, and for a second, he doesn’t say anything

Then, “You’re gonna make me cry,” he mutters, voice rough

You snort. “You’re the one always getting dramatic during break time. I'm just returning the favor.”

He leans his head back against the couch, hand settling on your knee. “You know… I don’t think I’d have made it through the last year the same way if it weren’t for you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Is this where you try to make me cry now?”

He grins, a little softer than usual. “No, I’m serious. You’ve kept me grounded. When things got too loud — too much — you were just… there. Quiet, stubborn, sarcastic, mean to me—”

You smack his arm lightly.

“—and exactly what I needed,” he finishes with a little laugh. “You always believed in me, even when I didn’t.”

You’re quiet for a beat, your chest warm.

Then you mumble, “Okay, now I’m maybe gonna cry a little.”

He turns, tugging you toward him gently until you’re tucked into his side, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Don’t cry,” he murmurs into your hair. “You’ll ruin my hoodie.”

You laugh into his chest. “It’s my hoodie now.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Then it’s our hoodie.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. He can feel it.

He’s quiet for a while, hand gently rubbing up and down your arm, breaths slow and even. Then, almost too casually, he says it:

“You gonna miss me when I’m gone?”

You don’t even hesitate. You smack his chest with the back of your hand. Not hard, just enough to make him laugh.

“I swear, Kwon Soonyoung, I will personally ship you off if you bring up your enlistment one more time.”

He laughs, the sound warm and muffled against your hair.

“You said that last time,” he grins.

“And I meant it then, too.”

But even as you say it, your hand curls tighter around his hoodie, fingers fisting in the fabric as you tug yourself closer, until your body’s pressed fully into his side like you’re trying to anchor him there.

He notices. Of course he does.

His smile softens. “Okay, okay. No more mentioning it.”

You just nod into his chest. Quiet. A beat passes.

Then he adds, “But like… just so I know, how much are you gonna miss me? On a scale of one to crying at my bus?”

You groan. “I change my mind. You’re going tomorrow.”

He laughs again, wrapping both arms around you, pulling you in until he’s half-laughing, half-suffocating you in his chest.

“Yah—Soonyoung—!”

“Shh, I’m savoring this,” he mumbles, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. “My scary, secretly clingy girlfriend.”

“I’m not clingy,” you mumble, even though your arms are still wrapped tight around him.

He grins. “You’re literally strangling me right now.”

“Because you’re annoying.”

He hums, voice low, content. “And you love me anyway.”

You don’t answer right away.

But when your fingers reach up to gently play with the edge of his sleeve, your voice comes out quiet.

“Yeah. I really do.”

And this time, he doesn’t tease. He just holds you tighter.

The quiet settles again, your bodies molded into the shape of comfort, your breathing syncing with his. The warmth, the closeness. It’s one of those rare pockets of stillness you both never get enough of.

Then his phone buzzes on the coffee table.

He groans, reaching out without untangling from you. “If that’s the group chat, I swear—”

He answers on speaker, dragging the phone toward him. “Yah, what is it now?”

Woozi’s voice crackles through, calm as ever. “Relax, I just wanted to double-check the lighting cue for your solo break. They adjusted the beat drop timing again.”

Hoshi sighs. “Yeah, I got it. I’ll tell the team.”

You’re already zoning out, head tucked under his chin again until Woozi adds, almost absently, “Also, don’t forget to tell your girlfriend to bring the backup files. I know you’ll forget.”

The silence after that is immediate.

Your head slowly lifts.

Hoshi’s eyes widen.

He stares at the phone.

Then at you.

Then back at the phone.

“Yah” he says slowly, “how did you know?”

There’s a short pause, like Woozi expected this reaction.

Then, flatly: “Soonyoung, you’re not subtle.”

“I am subtle,” Hoshi argues, looking truly offended. “We’ve been sneaky for almost a year!”

He turns to you, “How did he know??”

You snort, finally sitting up properly. “You’re asking me how he knew? He’s your member. Your best friend.”

He looks at you, betrayed. “You told him.”

“I didn’t! Why would I tell him? You talk to him more than I do!”

“He’s like Sherlock! Did he see something?! Did we slip up?!”

“You winked at me on stage last week,” you say dryly

“That was a neutral wink.”

“There’s no such thing as a neutral wink.”

Woozi’s voice comes through again, still painfully calm. “I literally watched you stare at her like a love-sick idiot during lunch. And you called her jagiya when you thought no one was listening.”

Hoshi buries his face in his hands. “I whispered that—”

“It was mic’d, genius.”

You burst out laughing, grabbing a pillow to hide your face as Hoshi groans like the world is ending.

Woozi finishes with, “Anyway. Just bring the files. See you tomorrow.”

The call ends.

Silence.

Then you poke his arm. “So, love-sick idiot, huh?”

He glares at you over his fingers. “I’m never showing affection again.”

You grin. “Good luck with that.”

And despite his embarrassment, his lips twitch because even mortified and exposed, he’s still the guy in love with you. Mic’d winks and all.