#you just know nothing and people forget that

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　GRAMMYS 2025

chris sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N, worldwide famous singer, goes to the Grammys 2025 and brings Chris as her pair for the first time.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is MY idea and work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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Y/N had been nominated for five Grammy Awards this year. Five. And yet, for some reason, the thought of stepping onto that carpet, under the flashing lights and watchful eyes of the entire world, made her more nervous than she’d ever been.

It wasn’t her first time - this was her fifth Grammy appearance - but the nerves never seemed to dull, no matter how many times she did this.

Her team had tried everything: chamomile tea, soothing massages, deep breathing exercises, playing her favorite calming playlist at a low volume in the background, even giving her a dozen of those custom-made chocolates with her face printed on them. But nothing helped. Not really.

Not even Chris’s kisses; though she had to admit, they were a very welcome distraction.

They were in a penthouse suite of a luxurious hotel in downtown Los Angeles, even though their house was barely a twenty-minute drive away. It was protocol, her team insisted. Every artist did it - getting ready in a hotel, away from distractions, with stylists, makeup artists, and PR people swarming around. It was meant to be a controlled environment, a perfectly curated lead-up to the biggest night in music. But it only added to the pressure.

Y/N stood in front of a massive floor-to-ceiling mirror, wrapped in a silk robe, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet as a makeup artist blended soft eyeshadow onto her lids. Her hairstylist was behind her, curling strands of her hair into loose waves. She looked poised on the outside, but internally, her nerves were tying knots in her stomach.

Chris sat on the couch a few feet away, watching her intently. He was already dressed - black tux, crisp white shirt, and a bow tie he had spent fifteen minutes fighting with before her makeup artist took pity on him and fixed it for him.

He looked good.

Really good.

The kind of good that made her momentarily forget about the nerves. But she wasn’t the only one nervous tonight.

Chris had been jittery since this morning, though he tried not to show it. This was his first time attending something this big, this formal, and while he was used to attention, this was a whole new level. He was going to be surrounded by the most famous people in the world, and for the first time, he wasn’t just Chris Sturniolo, the YouTuber; he was Chris Sturniolo, Y/N’s date to the Grammys.

But instead of letting his own anxiety get to him, he focused on her, observing how her fingers twitched, manicured nails shining below the lights with every tremble.

"Baby." He cooed, standing and walking toward her as soon as the makeup artist stepped aside. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her exposed shoulder, his big hands finding home around her hips, squeezing the covered skin. "What are you feeling, huh? 'Can feel you stressing from across the room, doll."

Y/N sighed, her hands gripping the edges of the vanity table, being careful not to knock her knuckles against the three massive bouquets - Nick had arranged for all of them to be delivered straight to her room in that morning.

"I just... I don’t know, Chris." She murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I know I’ve done this before, but what if I don’t win anything? What if I disappoint everyone?"

Before she could spiral any further, Chris was already moving. His hands slid from her hips to her stomach, wrapping around her in a slow embrace. He pulled her against him, his chest firm against her back, the heat of his body seeping through the thin fabric of her robe.

"Hey." He whispered, lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "Don’t do that."

His voice was gentle but firm, a quiet command that sent a shiver down her spine. She felt his breath against her neck, warm and familiar, grounding her.

"First of all." He continued, his arms tightening around her middle. "You’re the best singer out of everyone in that room tonight. You know that, right?"

Her eyes rolled.

"Baby, you can't say that when Billie Eilish, Taylor Swift-" She started, turning her head slightly, but he was already shaking his head.

"Nope." He cut in, resting his chin in the curve of her neck, his gaze locking onto hers through the mirror. "I said what I said. And for the record." He added, voice lower now, dripping with conviction. "You’re already the winner of everything in my book. Even the categories you’re not nominated in."

She sighed, heart pounding as his hands splayed across her stomach, his thumbs brushing slow, absentminded circles.

"Best Album? Yours." He murmured, letting his lips ghost over her jaw. "Best Song? Yours." His mouth traveled down to her shoulder, barely pressing against her skin, yet setting every nerve ending alight. "Best Human Being to Ever Exist?" He turned his head just enough to meet her eyes in the mirror again, his smirk soft but teasing. "You, obviously."

She let out a small, shaky laugh.

"Chris-"

"I’m serious." He interrupted, turning his head and nuzzling the soft skin of her temple, inhaling the rich scent of her Givenchy perfume. "Your fans love you. I love you. And, babe, let’s be honest, you could drop a single of you just breathing into a mic, and it would still go platinum."

That made her laugh, her eyes rolling with amusement.

"You’re gonna do your best tonight, like you always do. And no matter what happens, I’ll be right there with you."

She finally turned in his hold, her arms looping around his neck and her red tinted lips forming a small pout.

"Even if I trip on the carpet?"

"I’ll trip with you. We’ll make it a trend." Chris grinned, pressing a lingering kiss to the tip of her nose, being excessively careful not to smudge her perfect makeup. "Now, I think there's a worldwide famous singer who should be getting dressed, huh?"

Y/N's eyes stared into blue ones for a moment, smiling with the softness she found in them.

"Yeah... Yeah, you're right."

A sharp knock at the door broke their haze, followed by a loud voice.

"Y/N!"

The voice was unmistakable, high-pitched and full of dramatic flair, and before Y/N could even turn, Harry Lambert had burst into the room, arms spread wide, eyes scanning her from head to toe with theatrical disbelief.

"Oh. My. GOD." He practically floated toward her, his hands fluttering in the air like he was physically trying to grasp the vision before him. "Darling, how dare you stand there looking this stunning before even getting into your dress?"

Y/N barely had time to react before he pulled her into a tight hug, arms wrapped around her like he hadn’t seen her in years - even though they had spoken just yesterday. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her there for a beat longer than necessary, his touch radiating warmth and love.

"My baby girl." He cooed, pulling back slightly to cup her face. "How are we feeling? Nervous? Excited? On the verge of a breakdown?"

"All of the above." Y/N admitted, letting out a breathy laugh as he studied her with fondness.

Harry clicked his tongue.

"Well, you shouldn’t be, because you’re about to own this night. And if anyone so much as dares to breathe in your direction the wrong way, I will be throwing hands."

Chris chuckled from behind them.

"Good to see you, Harry."

"Christopher!" Harry turned to him with a dazzling smile, patting his chest in greeting before narrowing his eyes playfully. "The suit I chose for you was a very good choice, huh? Gucci looks good on you. Now, let’s be clear, your only job tonight is to stand there, look pretty, and worship Y/N like the goddess she is. Do you understand me?"

Chris raised his hands in surrender.

"Oh, trust me, I’ve been doing that since the second I met her."

Y/N felt her cheeks warm as Harry clapped his hands together.

"That’s my boy. Now, enough chit-chat! It is officially time to get my queen into the dress."

The entire room seemed to shift as the energy buzzed with anticipation. Y/N was ushered toward the dressing area, where the Gucci gown had been carefully laid out, glowing under the soft lights. Even without being worn, it commanded attention - the gold fabric shimmering as if infused with actual stardust, the dramatic ruffles sculpted to perfection.

As they helped her into it, every detail came to life. The strapless silhouette hugged her body in all the right places, the embedded crystals catching every flicker of light. The metallic sleeves, voluminous and artful, cascaded around her arms, while the matching ruffles at the bottom framed her steps with effortless grace.

When the final adjustments were made, Harry stepped back, his hands pressed to his chest as if he might faint.

"Oh, sweet heavens above." He whispered, looking genuinely overwhelmed. "I’ve outdone myself. We’ve outdone ourselves."

Chris, who had been sitting on the bed answering his brothers texts, looked up with Harry's voice, suddenly straightening up. His hands dropped to his lap, and his mouth hung open slightly, completely speechless.

"Wow." His voice came out strangled, like he had just been personally attacked.

Y/N turned toward him fully, the movement making the crystals on her dress shimmer, the light practically bending to her will. Chris visibly short-circuited.

"Are you- what- how-" He inhaled sharply, shaking his head as if trying to reboot his brain. "Nah. Nah. This isn’t fair. This should be illegal."

Y/N bit her lip, fighting a smile, but his reaction only got worse. His fingers threaded into his hair, his eyes raking over her from head to toe with pure, unfiltered obsession.

"Jesus fuck." He breathed out, voice a little rough. "You’re gonna kill me tonight, doll."

Harry smirked, tilting his head as he admired her.

"Oh, she’s not just going to kill you, Christopher. She’s going to kill everyone at the Grammys tonight. And I, for one, cannot wait to watch it happen."

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The energy outside the venue was electric. Even from inside the tinted Range Rover, the deafening sound of flashing cameras and screaming paparazzi was unavoidable. Y/N shifted in her seat, inhaling slowly, feeling the vibration of the excitement just beyond the doors.

A hand suddenly slid over her thighs, warm and grounding, caressing the fabric of her dress.

"Ready?" Chris asked, his voice softer than the chaos outside.

Y/N turned to him, wetting her matte lipstick lips.

"Yeah." She breathed, even though her heart was hammering.

Chris smirked knowingly.

"Liar."

Before she could argue, the car door swung open, and an immediate wave of screams hit them like a storm.

Chris stepped out first, adjusting his suit as flashes exploded around him, the sound of his name already being yelled from every direction. He quickly moved around to face the inside of the car, offering his hand.

The second Y/N emerged, the chaos tripled.

"Y/N! Y/N! Over here!"

"Y/N! Christopher! Are you two official?"

"Y/N, do you think you’ll win tonight?"

Y/N barely flinched at the shouting - it was part of the job. Instead, she kept her chin high, gripping Chris’s hand as they made their way down the carpet. The venue was bathed in red and gold hues, a massive step-and-repeat wall covered in Grammy logos standing proudly ahead. The air buzzed with anticipation, celebrities lining the edges of the carpet, all waiting for their moment in front of the cameras.

A staff member approached, guiding them toward a designated spot.

"You first, Ms. Y/N." The woman instructed.

Chris gave Y/N a gentle squeeze before stepping aside, allowing her to take center stage.

And damn, did she own it.

The second she posed, the already flashing cameras seemed to explode.

The fitted, gold gown clung to her frame like liquid metal, sparkling under the lights. The voluminous, ruffled sleeves caught the air as she shifted her stance, making her look like some sort of celestial being - untouchable, ethereal. She turned her head smoothly, flashing a radiant smile as the photographers shouted for her attention.

Chris, standing just a few feet away, was not handling it well. His eyes never left her, completely entranced, like he was seeing her for the first time again, not even noticing the flashs directed to his figure.

Y/N, catching his expression, couldn’t help but smile shyly. She subtly tilted her head toward him between poses, raising a teasing brow.

Chris just shook his head, still gawking, before muttering under his breath.

"Jesus Christ."

The staff member signaled for Chris to approach Y/N for their couple photos. Y/N turned toward him, making a playful shooing motion with her hands as if to snap him out of his trance.

"Earth to Chris." She teased.

Chris didn’t respond - not verbally, at least. Instead, he stepped closer with large steps and grabbed her by the waist, carefully pulling her flush against him, careful with her heels but firm enough to steal a delighted gasp from her. The moment their bodies pressed together, the screams from the crowd outside the barricades and the clicking of cameras reached a new level of hysteria.

The cameras loved them.

Chris leaned in between shots, his lips brushing her ear.

"You think they got food inside?"

Y/N barely bit back a laugh, keeping her expression poised as she continued smiling for the cameras.

"What, you mean like caviar and tiny-ass lobster rolls?"

"I don’t care if it’s a plate of lettuce. I need to eat something before I pass out."

Y/N snorted softly with how dramatic he could be, bumping her hips against his just slightly, careful not to disrupt the pictures.

"You ate almost all of those chocolates back in the hotel. Where does it even go?"

Chris grinned, his fingers squeezing at her waist, effectively freezing her in place.

"Wouldn’t you like to know?"

She rolled her eyes, suppressing a giggle.

"Be serious, Sturniolo."

"I am serious." He looked at her then, really looked at her, and it sent something warm and electric curling down her spine. "You are so fucking beautiful, it’s actually stupid."

Y/N faltered for half a second, her breath catching, not from the flashing lights, not from the cameras, but from him.

Chris chuckled, clearly pleased her reaction.

"Want to give y'a post-celebration present so bad." His voice switched to low and airy, almost lost beneath the noise, but she heard it perfectly.

Y/N swallowed, her mind jumping to conclusions she probably shouldn’t be having on the Grammys red carpet.

"Hm, and what would that be?"

Chris smirked, his fingers flexing at her waist.

"Eat y’out."

Y/N kept her composure like a pro, smiling for the cameras with a practiced grin, but discreetly pressed her thighs together. Two could play this game.

But before she could fire back, a voice interrupted.

"Alright, guys! We need to move to the next area!"

Another event staff member gestured for them to proceed toward the interview section, their tone polite but firm. Y/N exhaled slowly, her heart thudding inside her ears.

Chris sighed dramatically, his grip on her waist tightening for just a second before he let go, traveling up to her hand.

"And here I was, thinking we could just stay here all night."

Y/N squeezed his fingers, tugging him forward.

"Come on, you menace."

As they walked toward the interview zone, the setup became clearer - a sleek, well-lit platform lined with various media outlets, each interviewer eagerly awaiting their next celebrity guest. But before Y/N could even register who was up next, a familiar voice rang out, unmistakably enthusiastic.

"Y/N, oh my God! Get over here!"

Emma Chamberlain.

Y/N's face lit up immediately, and without hesitation, she pulled Chris along, their hands still intertwined as they made a beeline toward Emma. The internet personality-turned-Grammys correspondent was practically bouncing on her heels, her eyes wide with excitement.

As soon as they reached her, Emma lifted her microphone with dramatic flair.

"Ladies and gentlemen, five-time Grammy-nominated Y/N L/N, everyone!"

Y/N laughed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"No way you just said that like an awards show host."

Emma grinned.

"I am an awards show host." Then, turning to Chris, she playfully narrowed her eyes. "And, of course, let’s not forget the man of the hour, Chris Sturniolo!"

Chris chuckled, giving a small wave, the silver ring on his index finger glinting against the camera flash.

"That’s me."

Emma wasted no time diving into questions, her energy infectious.

"Okay, first things first, how are you feeling?" She pointed the mic toward Y/N.

Y/N exhaled, a bright smile still gracing her lips.

"Honestly? I’m just... I don’t even know how to put it into words. Happy? Grateful? In shock? All of it at once?" She shook her head in disbelief. "I mean, the Grammys. It’s something you dream about as a kid, you know? And now, five nominations? I feel like I need someone to pinch me."

Chris gently squeezed her hand, leaning in slightly so his mouth was close to the mic, his cheek brushing hers in the process.

"Not gonna lie, I did pinch her earlier to check."

Y/N playfully swatted at him, making Emma laugh.

"Alright, but tell me everything. What were you doing when you found out you were nominated?"

At this, Y/N turned to Chris, already laughing.

"Oh my God, it was chaos."

Chris grinned, nodding while brushing his messy hair back.

"Totally."

Y/N faced Emma again, still giggling.

"Okay, so we were just in the living room, me, Chris, Matt, and Nick. It was so casual, literally just us eating burgers, watching the nominations roll in on TV, not thinking much of it."

Emma’s eyes widened.

"Wait, so you weren’t even refreshing Twitter like a maniac?"

"No!" Y/N shook her head. "I swear, I wasn’t even expecting anything. And then, boom. My name gets called for the first nomination, and I just screamed."

"Nick screamed, too." Chris jumped in, laughing.

Emma gasped.

"Nick would."

Y/N nodded rapidly.

"He did! So then, Chris kisses me, Matt’s literally jumping up and down, and it was just full-on mayhem. But then, like, a minute later, my name gets called again for another nomination."

Chris smirked, nodding his head.

"And again. And again."

Emma covered her mouth, delighted.

"So by the fifth time-"

"I was crying." Y/N admitted, grinning. "Like, full-on sobbing in Chris’s arms."

Emma dramatically put her free hand against her heart.

"This is what I live for." Then, turning to Chris, she grinned mischievously. "Alright, your turn, Sturniolo."

Chris blinked, looking at Y/N before going back to Emma.

"Me?"

Emma nodded, dead serious.

"Yes, you. Because I know you, you act all cool and chill, but I know you were losing your mind when she got nominated."

Chris laughed, shaking his head.

"I mean, yeah, obviously. I was going crazy. But I think it really hit me when I looked at her during the last nomination and realized, this is actually happening. Like, she’s that talented. The world is seeing what I already knew."

Y/N felt her face heat up, a mix of emotions swirling in her chest.

Emma pouted.

"Chris, that's so wholesome. You’re really that boyfriend, huh?"

Chris shrugged, squeezing Y/N’s hand.

"I mean, yeah. Have you met her?"

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, but her smile didn’t fade.

"I know, right?" Emma nodded at Chris's direction, laughing with Y/N's reaction. "Now, tell me, which nomination are you most excited about?"

Y/N didn’t even hesitate.

"Song of the Year."

Emma’s brows lifted.

"Because...?"

Y/N took a breath, her fingers unconsciously tightening around Chris’s hand.

"Because the song nominated for that category is Lavender Haze, and that song... it just means so much to me." She glanced at Chris, her expression softer now.

Emma’s eyes darted between the two of them, her curiosity sparking instantly. She glanced at Y/N, then at Chris, before turning toward the camera with exaggerated wide eyes.

"Ohhh, I know that look." She teased, pointing between them with a knowing grin. "Okay, spill, tell me about the song."

Y/N let out a breathy laugh with how eager she sounded, meeting Emma’s gaze again.

"You'll know all about it if I win." She winked, her tone warm.

Chris was quick to approach the microphone again.

"Not if, when."

Emma tilted her head, frowning as a pout grew on her lips.

"No way you're going to leave me with this curiosity." She sighed dramatically. "I guess I'll need to watch the awards with double attention." Emma winked to the camera. "Okay, I’m obsessed with you guys. This is too cute. But I won’t keep you any longer, go enjoy your night! And, Y/N, fingers crossed for all five wins!"

Y/N beamed, giving Emma one last hug before she and Chris were guided to the next section of the event. As they walked, the lights of the Grammys venue shining ahead, Chris leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear.

"You’re killing it, doll."

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The moment Y/N and Chris stepped into the grand main salon, the shift in the atmosphere was almost physical. The flashing lights of the red carpet were behind them, replaced by the elegant glow of chandeliers and the soft hum of conversation. Celebrities, industry giants, and music legends filled the expansive room, dressed in their finest, the air buzzing with anticipation.

A staff member immediately approached them with a warm smile, gesturing toward their assigned table.

"Good evening, Ms. L/N, Mr. Sturniolo. Right this way, please."

As they walked through the lavishly decorated space, Y/N’s fingers instinctively tightened around Chris’s hand, her nerves still tingling with the knowledge that the biggest names were around her.

Halfway to their table, a familiar voice called out from the side.

"Chris! No way- dude!"

Chris turned toward the sound, a grin instantly spreading across his face when he saw Troye Sivan standing up from his table, waving him over.

Troye had met Chris and his brothers just two weeks ago at a Prada fashion show, and the energy between them had been instantly chill and friendly.

"Troye, hey, what’s up, man?" Chris greeted as he pulled him in for a quick hug.

Meanwhile, Y/N turned toward Sabrina Carpenter, who was seated beside Troye in the most ethereal baby blue dress, its delicate fabric flowing like water over her frame.

"Sabrina, hi!" Y/N greeted, her voice lighting up as she fully took in the details of her look. "Wow, you look absolutely stunning. Like, actually unreal."

Sabrina’s eyes widened for a split second, surprise flashing across her face before it melted into the sweetest, most genuine smile. Without a second thought, she pushed herself up from her seat, reaching for Y/N as if they were lifelong friends and pulling her into a warm, affectionate hug. She squeezed tightly, her energy radiating pure kindness.

"Oh my god, stop." Sabrina gushed, pulling back just enough to look at Y/N, her hands still resting gently on her arms. "That means the world coming from you. And please, look at you!" She emphasized, eyes scanning Y/N from head to toe with genuine admiration. "You look like an actual goddess."

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head as she absentmindedly smoothed her hands over the golden fabric of her dress.

"It’s all Lambert’s magic." She admitted with a playful grin, referring to her trusted stylist. Then, with a spark of excitement, she added. "I heard you’re performing tonight, I cannot wait to see it!"

Sabrina practically bounced in place, her excitement just as contagious.

"Oh, that makes me so nervous but also so happy." She admitted with a laugh, her hands clasping together. "I just hope I don’t trip or something."

Y/N shook her head instantly.

"No way, you’re going to kill it. I already know it."

Chris and Troye exchanged a few more words, something about how amazing the Prada show had been and how they should schedule to do something together in the future, before Chris gave him a casual pat on the shoulder.

"We’ll catch up later, yeah? We gotta find our table before they go live."

Troye grinned.

"For sure. Enjoy the night, guys."

After one last big smile at Sabrina, Y/N slipped her hand back into Chris’s as they navigated through the room.

Their table was positioned with a perfect view of the stage, the paper cards on their seats spelling out their names in black ink below a selected picture of their faces.

As they sat down, Y/N exhaled, glancing up at the stage. A quick glance at the massive countdown screen told her they had ten minutes before the live broadcast began.

"Damn." She muttered, leaning toward Chris. "Didn’t even realize how much time passed outside."

Chris chuckled, his voice low.

"That’s ‘cause you were too busy looking hot and stealing everyone’s attention."

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the amused smile that tugged at her lips.

"Come'ere, babe." He asked, extending his arm in her direction, asking silently for her to move closer.

Her eyes sparkled with affection, and she shifted her chair slightly, moving closer to Chris until she was practically pressed against his side. Without hesitation, he wrapped his extended arm around her upper body, pulling her in securely. The warmth of his body mixed with the familiarity of his presence was grounding and comforting.

Chris pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his lips lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

Y/N tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes shining under the dimmed chandeliers.

"Thank you." She whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the room.

Chris furrowed his brows slightly, looking down at her, their faces so close he could feel her warm breath hitting his chin.

"For what?"

"For being here with me. For always being here for me."

His gaze softened immediately, and the way he looked at her - so full of quiet devotion - made her heart swell.

"Forever, baby." He murmured, squeezing her gently.

Before Y/N could say anything else, a new voice cut into their moment.

"Excuse me, I hope I’m not interrupting anything."

The voice was warm, familiar, and utterly unmistakable.

Both Y/N and Chris turned toward the sound, and in an instant, Y/N felt the entire world freeze. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart stuttered, and for a brief, terrifying moment, she wondered if she had actually left her body.

Because standing there, just a few feet away, in all her effortless, golden-lit, legendary glory, was Taylor Swift.

Taylor Swift.

Y/N swore she could hear the heavens parting and angels singing in the background.

Taylor was an absolute vision in a stunning, strong red mini dress, her signature red lip effortlessly bold, her blonde hair framing her face in soft waves.

And she was smiling - smiling - at her.

"Oh my god." Y/N blurted out, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could even attempt to reel them back in.

Taylor let out a soft laugh as she shook her head lightly, eyes twinkling.

"I just wanted to say that I’m such a huge fan of your work. Lavender Haze is absolutely everything."

Y/N felt her soul leave her body.

Her brain quite literally short-circuited. Because- because what?

Taylor Swift, the Taylor Swift, her biggest inspiration, her songwriting idol, just complimented her music?

There was a very real possibility that she had just blacked out.

Chris shifted slightly beside her, maintaining his arm above the back of her chair, obviously trying so hard not to burst out laughing at how starstruck she looked.

Somehow, somehow, Y/N managed to keep her expression together, even though her heart was doing full-blown Olympic-level gymnastics in her chest.

"That means everything coming from you." She breathed, every word laced with pure, raw sincerity. "Thank you so, so much."

Taylor’s smile only widened, like she could feel how much those words meant to Y/N.

"Seriously." She said, her voice warm and genuine. "I’ve been listening to it on repeat. You’re insanely talented. The way you crafted that song... you have such a gift."

Y/N felt an actual tear prick at the corner of her eye. She wanted to scream. She wanted to hug her. She wanted to tattoo this moment onto her soul and never forget it.

And then, as if she couldn’t possibly adore her any more, Taylor turned to Chris, offering him the same bright, kind smile.

"And of course, you." She said, her tone playful but just as sincere. "I love what you and your brothers are doing on YouTube. It’s always fun seeing people bring fresh energy to the space."

Chris looked genuinely taken aback for a moment. His eyebrows lifted slightly, and for the first time, Y/N saw a flicker of oh wow, this is real life in his expression.

"That’s- wow, okay, that’s crazy." He said, running a hand through his hair with an incredulous chuckle. "Thank you, that’s- man, that’s insane coming from you."

Taylor grinned, her hand gently squeezing Y/N’s shoulder, grounding her back to reality.

"I won’t keep you guys." She said softly. "I just wanted to say that. Hope you both have the best night."

And just like that, she turned, walking back toward her table.

For a long, stunned second, Y/N just stood there, processing what had just happened. Then, with wide eyes, she turned to Chris, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Did that just happen?"

Chris, still looking way too amused, nodded, his grin stretching across his face.

"Yup." He confirmed. "And you just casually had a conversation with Taylor Swift like it was nothing."

Y/N let out a sharp exhale, pressing her hands over her face.

"I need a second."

Chris laughed, and before she could even register it, he was wrapping both arms around her, pulling her in tightly, his face pressing against her hair.

"Proud of you, popstar." He murmured, his voice laced with nothing but warmth.

Before she could respond, the lights dimmed, and the energy in the room shifted as a voice echoed through the speakers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome your host for the 67th Annual Grammy Awards, Trevor Noah!"

A roar of cheers erupted as the towering LED screens flanking the stage flickered to life, displaying Trevor Noah’s wide, mischievous grin. He strolled onto the main floor rather than standing on the stage, seamlessly blending into the sea of round tables where the biggest names in the industry were seated.

He adjusted the microphone in his hand, letting the applause die down just enough before flashing a knowing smirk.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen." He began, his smooth voice carrying through the arena. "This is it, the 67th Grammys! Music’s biggest night! The Super Bowl for people who cried to Folklore, danced to Beyoncé, and worked out to Travis Scott, all in the same day!"

Laughter rippled through the crowd as the camera panned to a few artists nodding dramatically in agreement.

"And listen, let’s be honest. The Grammys are basically just a really fancy dinner party where we all pretend we haven’t been stalking the winners list since yesterday." Another wave of laughter followed. "But tonight... tonight, we are celebrating the best of the best in music. The songs that made us scream in our cars, the albums that made us question our entire existence, and the artists who consistently ruin our Spotify Wrapped every year."

Trevor began walking casually between the round tables, grinning as he looked around at the audience.

"And let’s not forget the real stars of the night, the seating arrangements. Have you seen these tables? It’s like the ultimate Hunger Games. You got legends, you got rookies, and you got the poor artists who are just hoping they don’t get caught in an awkward cutaway during a joke."

The camera zoomed in on a few newer artists laughing nervously, earning a chuckle from the crowd.

Trevor continued weaving his way through the tables, his eyes scanning the sea of music’s biggest names.

"And speaking of icons." He said, stopping by a particular table. "Tonight, we have the one and only Y/N L/N with us!"

The moment her name left his lips, the entire arena erupted into cheers. The camera cut to Y/N’s table, her face instantly lighting up with a radiant smile. Chris grinned smugly as he watched her soak in the moment.

Y/N turned slightly to face the camera that was now focused on her, offering a soft wave. The massive screen above the stage displayed a live feed of her, the applause continuing as Trevor beamed.

"Now, listen, if you somehow missed it, Y/N is up for five nominations tonight!" Trevor announced, pointing at her with mock emphasis. "Five nominations, guys. For songs and the album she announced when she won last year. That’s how much of a legend she is."

Y/N let out a soft laugh, her cheeks warming as she watched herself on the big screen. The camera panned slightly to Chris, who was nodding with a smug expression, as if silently agreeing with every word Trevor was saying.

"Plus." Trevor continued, stepping closer to their table. "If Y/N wins tonight, she could be the first artist ever to win Album of the Year five times."

Gasps and cheers rippled through the audience, while Y/N’s smile grew impossibly wider.

"Which means, she would break the record of four wins set all the way back in 2024 by-" Trevor raised his free hand, making a show of pretending to check an invisible list on his palm. "Y/N L/N!"

The entire room erupted into even louder applause, whistles echoing through the space as Trevor dramatically motioned toward her again.

Y/N's eyebrows flew up, feigning surprise, trying to contain her giddiness while Chris chuckled beside her, mouthing 'that's my girl' to a camera pointing his way.

Trevor placed a hand on his hip, looking toward the camera with mock exasperation.

"So basically, Y/N is out here breaking her own records. Just casually deciding that four wins aren’t enough and going for five. That’s like running a marathon, winning, and then saying, 'You know what? Let’s do it again, backwards'."

More laughter filled the room, Y/N pressing a hand over her mouth to keep from giggling too much. Trevor grinned, looking at her one last time.

"Listen, Y/N, whatever happens tonight, you’re already a legend. But if you win that fifth Grammy, just promise me you won’t announce another album mid-acceptance speech. Give the rest of the industry a fighting chance, okay?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head, and Chris patted her thigh under the table, looking thoroughly entertained.

Trevor winked before turning back to the audience, raising his mic once again.

"Alright, let’s get this incredible night started! We’ve got performances, surprises, and probably a few moments that’ll break the internet. Let’s do this!"

The crowd roared as the cameras pulled away, cutting to a sleek transition video, signaling the official start of the show. Y/N exhaled, stealing a glance at Chris, who simply grinned and pulled her back to his chest, pressing his lips against her cheek.

"You’re so winning tonight."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The moment the last notes of Birds of a Feather echoed through the grand hall, Y/N felt like she was floating. Billie Eilish had just delivered one of the most breathtaking performances she had ever seen, and she could still feel the goosebumps lingering on her arms.

She turned to Chris, her eyes shining with excitement, her heart still beating to the rhythm of the song.

"Billie is unreal." She gushed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Like, every time she performs, it’s like she’s singing straight to my soul."

Chris let out a chuckle, his arm draped lazily around her shoulders, pulling her close.

"Nick would actually kill to be here right now." His lips quirked up in amusement. "I bet he’s texting us like a mad man."

Y/N laughed softly, already imagining Nick’s all-caps messages blowing up their group chat. But before she could even think of checking, the stage lights dimmed slightly, and the screens around the venue shifted. A familiar melody played in the background as a figure gracefully stepped onto the stage. The chatter in the audience softened as people turned their attention to her.

Taylor Swift.

Y/N straightened in her seat, her heart picking up speed.

Chris immediately caught the change in her posture and smirked.

"Oh shit." He teased, giving her shoulder a little squeeze. "Your idol is speaking. Do you need me to hold you so you don’t pass out?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling in her chest.

Taylor approached the microphone with that effortless charm that made the entire room fall silent. She smiled warmly, tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear before speaking.

"Good evening, everyone." She greeted, her voice carrying easily through the venue. "Tonight has been incredible so far, and I am so honored to be here presenting this next award."

Y/N opened a genuine smile, squeezing Chris's thigh below her fingers.

"Album of the Year is such a special award because it represents not just music, but stories. It’s about the albums that stayed with us, that shaped our emotions, our memories. The ones that became the soundtrack to our lives." Taylor continued, her expression softening as she held up the envelope. "And with that being said, the Grammy goes to..."

She slid her fingers under the flap and carefully pulled out the card, unfolding it with precision.

Y/N could feel Chris’s arms tighten around her. His body heat a cocoon around her own as she clutched onto him, her pulse thundering in her temple.

A second of silence stretched. Then Taylor’s eyes scanned the paper, and the biggest, brightest smile took over her face. Her gaze lifted, seemingly searching the crowd for someone.

Y/N furrowed her brows slightly.

Taylor found her.

And then, with a warmth that sent shivers down Y/N’s spine, Taylor announced.

"Y/N L/N, Midnights."

The world tilted.

For a solid moment, Y/N didn’t move. She couldn’t move. The air in her lungs disappeared, her vision blurred instantly with unshed tears, and her mouth fell open in pure, unfiltered shock, her hands hovering near her mouth, trembling as realization crashed into her like a tidal wave.

Album of the Year.

She won.

She won.

Chris, on the other hand, reacted immediately.

"YES!" He shouted, his voice cutting through the noise as he punched the air, his excitement completely unfiltered. People turned, smiling, laughing, but Chris didn’t care. His hands were already on Y/N, his eyes scanning her face.

She wasn’t breathing.

"Babe." His voice softened instantly as he leaned in, his forehead almost touching hers. "Hey, you did it."

Y/N sucked in a sharp, shaky breath, but it wasn’t enough. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over before she could stop them, her body shaking with the force of emotions she had no chance of containing.

A broken sob escaped her lips.

Chris pulled her in before she could crumple, wrapping her up in the kind of hug that blocked everything else out. His arms were warm, steady, his lips pressing against her forehead as he whispered, his voice firm this time.

"You did it."

Y/N let out a wet laugh against his shoulder, her fingers clutching onto him for just a second longer before she finally let go.

He gently lowered his head, making sure she looked at him.

And God, the way he was looking at her.

Like she had just built the entire universe with her bare hands.

"Go get your Grammy, winner." He murmured, the words slow and soft and filled with everything.

Y/N let out another broken breath, nodding before finally, finally turning toward the stage.

The journey to the top felt surreal, like she was floating. The cheers, the applause, the faces she recognized - people she had idolized - they all blurred together.

And then suddenly, she was there.

Standing at the top.

Face to face with Taylor Swift.

Who was smiling at her, waiting for her, Grammy in hand.

Y/N’s breath hitched all over again.

Her hands, still unsteady, reached out, fingers closing around the golden gramophone. The weight of it sent a whole new wave of emotions crashing into her.

Before she could even process what was happening, Taylor pulled her into a hug - tight, warm, real.

"Congratulations." Taylor whispered against her ear, and god, if that wasn’t the most surreal moment of Y/N’s entire life. "You deserve this so much."

A choked noise left Y/N’s lips as she nodded weakly, her throat too tight to speak.

She deserved this.

She deserved this.

Her fingers traced over the Grammy, like she needed physical proof that it was real before she finally turned to the microphone.

She inhaled deeply. Opened her mouth.

"I-I don’t even know what to say right now." She admitted, biting her bottom lip. "I’m- god, I’m just so honored."

The crowd cooed, and Y/N let out a breathless laugh of her own, shaking her head as more tears slipped down her cheeks.

"This is insane." She said, shaking her head slightly. "Being nominated in this category, alongside so many incredible artists, artists I’ve admired for years, was already more than I could’ve ever dreamed of. To even stand beside you all tonight, to celebrate music with you? That was already everything."

Her chest rose and fell as she blinked away the heat gathering behind her eyes, sweeping her gaze across the crowd.

"I have to thank my incredible producer, my team, every single person who helped bring this album to life." Her voice wavered, thick with emotion. "You guys took my wild, messy ideas and turned them into something real, something that I never could have done alone. And I will never stop being grateful."

She wet her lips, inhaling deeply before her smile stretched just a little wider.

"My fans..." Her voice caught slightly, her hand pressing over her heart. "You guys have given me everything. You’ve let me tell my stories, and you’ve listened over and over and over again. You’ve made this dream of mine possible, and I love you more than I can ever put into words."

The cheers swelled again, voices from every corner of the room shouting her name. Her grip on the Grammy tightened as she shifted her weight slightly.

"To my family, Matt and Nick, my biggest cheerleaders." She laughed softly, looking at the main camera pointing at her. "I love you guys, you already know that."

And then, as if the moment had been waiting for this, her gaze lifted to him. Her breath hitched, lips curling into a smile that was just for him.

"And lastly." She said, her voice softer now. "To my boyfriend, Chris."

A ripple of excitement spread through the audience, but Y/N didn’t hear it. Not when those impossibly blue eyes were locked onto hers, not when his expression softened with something so tender, so proud, it made her knees weak.

"Thank you for being the creative genius that you are." She said, eyes never leaving his. "For staying up with me in the studio when I couldn’t figure out the right melody, even when I was on hour ten of tweaking the same one."

Laughter rolled through the room, and Chris grinned, shaking his head.

"For never doubting me." She continued, her throat tightening. "Even when I doubted myself. For being my biggest supporter. My muse. Every song, every lyric... You are in all of them.”

Chris exhaled sharply, his jaw tensing, his hand pressing over his heart as if feeling her love for him.

"Thank you." She finished simply, her voice steady, full of everything she couldn’t quite put into words.

The applause was deafening. A roar of cheers, of love, of celebration.

But all Y/N could hear was the thundering of her own heart.

This was real.

She had just won Album of the Year for the fifth time in a row.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The massive screens on either side of the stage illuminated with Trevor Noah’s face again as he took the microphone, now standing above all of them, his signature charm radiating through the room.

"Alright, people." He started, a knowing smirk on his lips. "This is it, one of the most expected award of the night. Song of the Year."

The audience erupted into applause, a tangible wave of excitement washing over the room.

Y/N could barely hear it. Her entire body felt like it was wound up in a coil, so tight that she might snap. Her heart pounded mercilessly against her ribcage as she focused on the only thing grounding her - Chris’s hand wrapped tightly around hers.

She could feel the heat of his palm, the way his fingers curled firmly around hers, almost as if he knew she needed the anchor.

Trevor continued, his voice filling the grand space.

"Now, we all know Song of the Year isn’t just about a hit track. It’s about storytelling. It’s about lyrics that mean something that connects with people, that makes you feel something in your soul."

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut for a second. God, she felt like she was going to throw up.

Chris, meanwhile, kept his eyes locked on the stage, his jaw set, body tense. His grip on her hand tightening, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand once - just once - as if silently telling her, I’ve got you.

Trevor continued listing the nominees, their song snippets playing softly over the speakers, but Y/N’s mind was a blur. The only thing she could feel was her heartbeat hammering violently inside her chest.

She could barely hear Trevor’s next words over the rush of blood in her ears.

"And the Grammy goes to..."

A dramatic pause.

It felt endless. It felt cruel.

Y/N finally lifted her head, eyes darting to the stage.

Trevor’s gaze swept across the room before his smile widened.

"Y/N L/N, Lavender Haze!"

The room erupted. Applause, cheers bouncing off the walls, her own voice echoing from the speakers, but Y/N barely registered any of it.

Her breath hitched, her entire body jerking forward as if her heart had physically pulled her out of her seat. Her hands flew to her face, pressing against her eyes, trying to contain the overwhelming rush of emotions slamming into her all at once.

Oh, god. Oh, god.

Chris was already moving before she could even think. His chair scraped back, his arms were on her in an instant, pulling her up, grounding her before she could float away in all of this.

"Oh my god." The words tumbled out of her, barely a whisper against her palms, her chest rising and falling too quickly to keep up.

Chris didn’t hesitate. His arms wrapped around her tightly, anchoring her, holding her so close she could feel his heartbeat against hers.

"I am so fucking proud of you." His voice was right against her ear, steady, sure. "You are everything, baby."

That was it. That was what made the tears slip free.

But Chris didn’t let her hide.

With infinite tenderness, he pulled her hands away from her face, his thumbs sweeping over her damp cheeks. Then, before she could even catch her breath, he cupped her jaw and kissed her, firm, lingering, so full of love that everything else around them faded into nothing.

The crowd reacted instantly - cheers, whistles, camera flashes exploding in rapid succession - but Y/N only felt him.

When he pulled back, his hand found the small of her back, keeping her close, his face glowing with pride.

"Go get your second Grammy, superstar."

She exhaled shakily, nodding as she turned toward the stage for the second time in that night.

With each step, she forced herself to breathe.

In.

Out.

The massive gold-lettered GRAMMY AWARDS logo towered behind Trevor as he extended the award toward her, his smile warm and genuine.

"Y/N, congratulations." He said, offering a short but meaningful handshake.

Y/N took the Grammy statue with slightly trembling hands, whispering.

"Thank you so much." Before stepping toward the microphone.

As she turned, facing the sea of the world’s most influential artists, the weight of the moment finally settled on her. She was with her second award in her hands.

She barely had time to process it before her gaze instinctively found Chris.

He was standing at their table, hands tucked into his pants pockets, eyes locked onto hers. And when she hesitated, nerves bubbling up again, he gave her the smallest nod.

A simple movement.

But one that made her chest ache in the best way.

Y/N exhaled, adjusting her grip on the award.

"I- uh, I think I blacked out for a second there."

The room laughed, the tension easing instantly.

Y/N smiled, shaking her head.

"I genuinely don’t even know where to start. Again. This... this is insane."

She swallowed, her grip tightening on the Grammy as she steadied herself. The applause had started to fade, giving her space to speak, but her mind was still spinning.

"Lavender Haze is about love." She let the words settle, looking down for a brief moment before lifting her gaze straight to him. "The kind of love that blocks out the noise. The kind that just is, no matter what’s said, no matter what’s assumed. The kind that’s real."

Chris’s expression didn’t change, but she saw it, the slight shift in his jaw, the way his fingers curled against his palm, like he was physically stopping himself from reacting too much. From crumbling, maybe.

"This song wouldn’t exist without that love." Y/N wet her lips, heart hammering. "Without him."

A murmur rippled through the audience. People turned toward Chris, whose head finally dropped for half a second, his tongue running over his bottom lip before he glanced back up at her.

Y/N barely heard the movement. Barely noticed the cameras zooming in on them, barely cared about the entire world watching, because this wasn’t for them.

"This music is for you, Chris." Her voice was softer now, but no less sure. "And about you. And because of you."

Chris inhaled sharply, his chest rising with the movement. He was blinking faster now, his lips parting slightly, his entire body still, like if he moved, even a little, he’d break.

"You have been my safe place in ways I never even thought possible." Y/N continued, her voice thick with emotion. "You have shown me love in a way that makes the rest of the world fade out. And I wrote this because I needed people to hear what that feels like."

A pause.

Chris pressed his knuckles against his mouth, his gaze locked onto her like she had gravity itself wrapped around her fingers.

"So, I don’t need to thank anyone else for this." Y/N said simply, shaking her head. "This is you. This was always you."

The room was silent.

The world was silent.

Then, like a tidal wave, the applause crashed back over the moment, a roar of cheers and shouts as the weight of her words settled over the audience.

Chris didn’t move.

Didn’t clap.

Didn’t even breathe for a second.

He just looked at her with the most bright blue eyes.

She nodded, finally stepping back from the mic, Trevor clapping beside her before escorting her off stage.

And the second she made it back to her table, Chris was there.

Before she could even react, he pulled her against him, lips finding hers in a way that had the cameras flashing wildly, had people cooing, but none of it mattered.

Because for Y/N, all that existed was him.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Five nominations.

Five won awards.

She did it.

She had won five Grammys tonight.

She still couldn’t fully process it.

The air outside the main salon was crisp with the late-night chill, but Y/N barely felt it. The sheer exhaustion in her limbs, the dull ache in her feet from hours in high heels, and the weight - both literal and emotional - of the five golden Grammys in her hands left her in a haze.

Chris walked beside her, just as tired, but his expression was still warm with lingering pride. His free hand held two of her awards, his fingers occasionally brushing against hers as they made their way toward the grey wall - the makeshift backdrop set up just for the winners to take their photos.

Y/N’s sharp eyes were quick to spot something - or rather, someone - familiar.

Cole Walliser. The photographer behind every iconic Glambot moment and best photographs at major award shows.

The moment Cole noticed her, his face lit up in recognition, and he immediately called out.

"Y/N! Oh my god, look at these babies!" He gestured toward her stack of trophies, shaking his head in disbelief. "Get over here. You already know the drill!"

Y/N laughed, already making her way toward him, Chris trailing behind her with a wide smile.

"Oh, I think I remember it."

Cole smirked, playing along.

"Yeah? You sure about that? Feels like I’ve only filmed you a dozen times or so."

"Something like that." She teased before gesturing toward Chris with her head. "Brought a friend this time."

Chris scoffed, giving her the most offended look.

"Friend my ass."

Y/N burst into laughter, nudging him playfully, while Cole chuckled at their dynamic.

"Alright, what’s the game plan? We need to show these off."

Y/N barely had time to respond before Chris was already moving, helping her adjust the awards so she could hold them all without them toppling over.

"Wait, wait, here, give me that one." His voice was soft, concentrated, as he carefully restacked them, his touch both gentle and efficient. "Alright, you good? You got ‘em?"

She let out a breathy laugh, adjusting her grip.

"Yeah, I think so."

Cole grinned, stepping back to gesture toward the marked spot in front of the camera.

"Perfect, then. Right this way, Ms. Sturniolo."

Y/N choked on a laugh, and Chris practically beamed.

"Ms. Sturniolo, huh?" Chris turned to her, eyes shining with excitement, his grip on her lower back tightening slightly as he guided her onto the designated Glambot mark. "I like the sound of it."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her laughter betrayed how much she loved seeing him so giddy.

"Don’t let it get to your head, Mr. Sturniolo."

Chris grinned.

"Oh, it’s already there."

As Cole called out instructions, Chris stepped back, giving her space, but he didn’t leave. Instead, he lingered off to the side, watching her with the biggest, most heart-wrenchingly proud smile on his face.

Y/N could feel his gaze on her as she smiled to Cole’s moving camera. She tilted her head, posing slightly, but every time she caught Chris’s eyes in the background, her lips twitched into a barely-contained grin.

She couldn’t help it.

This moment was surreal.

She was standing there, arms full of Grammys, while her person stood just a few feet away, looking at her like she had hung the damn stars in the sky.

After a few more clicks, she shifted the weight of the awards in her arms before looking toward Waliser.

"Can we do one with Chris?" She asked, glancing between the camera and Chris himself.

Cole barely hesitated, quickly nodding.

"Oh, absolutely! Christopher, hop in!"

Chris blinked.

"Oh, I mean- I wasn’t-"

"Oh, shut up and get over here." Y/N teased, a playful glint in her tired eyes.

Chris huffed a soft chuckle before stepping forward, standing beside her as she started redistributing the awards.

"Here." She murmured, placing two specific trophies into his hands.

Song of the Year and Album of the Year.

Chris furrowed his brows slightly, glancing down at the awards before looking back at her.

"Doll-"

"These two." She said softly, eyes locking onto his. "I only got because of you."

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his fingers tightening around the trophies instinctively.

"Y/N-"

"Just hold them with me." She whispered, nudging him gently.

Chris exhaled through his nose, his lips pressing into a thin line before he gave in, nodding as they both turned to face the camera.

Cole then gave play on his camera, but Y/N barely paid attention to it. She could feel Chris's eyes at her again, his expression unreadable, almost like he was too full of emotion to put it into words.

When the last one was taken, Chris nudged her shoulder lightly.

"C’mon, superstar. Let’s get out of here."

She didn’t hesitate.

After exchanging warm goodbyes with Cole, Y/N and Chris started making their way toward the private exit where their Range Rover was waiting.

Y/N’s entire body felt like it was dragging now, the adrenaline wearing off fast. She wanted nothing more than to be curled up at home, in bed, preferably with Chris’s arms around her.

But before they could reach the doors-

"Y/N!"

A reporter suddenly appeared in front of them, stepping way too close for comfort. Y/N barely had time to react before the microphone was practically in her face.

"So, are you guys heading to the after-party?" The woman asked, her tone almost demanding, her smile overly eager. "What are the plans for the rest of the night?"

Y/N blinked, momentarily stunned by how aggressive the approach was.

Chris, on the other hand... His entire expression darkened. His jaw clenched, and his brows furrowed deeply, his grip tightening around the awards as he took a subtle step closer to Y/N, his entire posture radiating protectiveness.

If looks could kill, the woman would’ve been vaporized on the spot.

But before Chris could say anything, Y/N, despite being exhausted, handled it perfectly.

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t react.

Instead, she simply smiled, a polite, but pointed smile.

"I’m heading home, actually." She said smoothly, adjusting the awards in her arms. "To my family." The reporter barely had time to respond before Y/N added. "Thank you so much. Have a great night."

And just like that, she turned, walking away.

Chris blinked. Then, a slow, smug smirk crept onto his lips as he followed her.

Y/N didn’t give the woman another second of her time. She just kept walking, invisibly pulling Chris with her, her arm brushing against his with every step, greeting and thanking each staff member in the way with warm smiles.

Chris let out a low chuckle as they reached the car, expertly balancing both awards in one hand while using the other to pull open the door for her.

"Damn. That was smooth." His voice was warm, laced with amusement.

Y/N smirked at him over her shoulder, eyes twinkling despite the exhaustion sinking in.

"I’m too tired to deal with more people tonight."

Chris snorted, watching as she slid into the leather seat with a sigh of relief.

"Fair enough."

When he finally climbed into the seat beside hers, he shut the door with a groan, leaning his head back for a second before exhaling slowly.

And just like that, the moment they were sealed inside the warm car, blocking the sounds of loud voices and clicks, the exhaustion slammed into them both.

Y/N melted into the headrest, her eyes falling shut as she let out a deep, heavy breath.

"I feel like I ran a marathon."

Chris chuckled under his breath, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension.

"You did. An emotional one."

She hummed in agreement, her breathing slowing as the exhaustion took hold. Chris reached over instinctively, finding her hand in the dim light of the car, fingers slotting between hers with ease.

His thumb brushed over her knuckles, slow and deliberate, grounding her in the quiet.

"M’so proud of you, baby." His voice was soft, almost a whisper, like he didn’t want to disturb the peacefulness settling over them.

Y/N turned her head toward him, eyelids heavy, but her lips curled into the smallest, sleepiest smile.

"Love you."

Chris lifted their joined hands without hesitation, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles, lingering there for just a second longer than necessary.

"Love you more."

She let her eyes flicker down, gaze landing on the golden awards sprawled across her lap and the seat beside her. She reached out, fingertips tracing the engravings, still not entirely believing they were hers.

She let out a thoughtful hum. Five more Grammys.

"We’re gonna have to find space for these at home." She murmured, brows knitting together as she looked over at Chris. "I have no idea where we’re putting them."

Chris chuckled, shaking his head.

"Already taken care of."

She raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Nick ordered a whole-ass display cabinet for that empty wall across from the kitchen." He admitted, shooting her a knowing look. "Figured we’d need it."

Y/N blinked, her lips parting slightly.

"He-"

"Yeah." Chris smirked. "So, we’ll put these there with the others from the past years..." He paused, his eyes twinkling playfully. "Until there’s no room left, popstar."

Y/N huffed a soft laugh, shaking her head before leaning over to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

"At this rate." She teased, nuzzling his soft skin. "We’ll need a whole new house."

It was no surprise when, in the next TikTok, the boys recorded in their kitchen, the cabinet full of awards served as the background.

[tan1shere]

My Winner

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: This is how we cope ladies and no gentlemen. Enjoy my loves <3

Summary: after the grammys, Billie finds a way to forget. But you find it hard. Knowing that nothings truly ok. (You'll see.)

Warnings: angst, but heavy on the comfort I promise <3 reader has anxiety so mentions of that

Tags: @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @chrissv4mp @n0vabug @dollyvuu @dollarbils @sweetcherriexs

^comment if you want to be added^

Masterlist

What an anxiety filled night. It was nearing the end. The grammys. You know, the big event that always either turns someone's life around or ruins it. You had been anxious all day, surprisingly Billie wasn't. She was so excited to just be there. Happy to be with you especially. But you knew as soon as you took your seats she was masking how anxious she was.

The red carpet was full of stars, full of heaps of people you didn't know either. There was always something about your anxiety, and ever since you had the hunch that your anxiety could always tell you if somethings up, you've been listening to that hunch heavily. Billie also knew of this, but you tried keeping extra quiet currently. If she knew you were anxious that'd set her into a complete state of worry. Knowing you seem to get this way when something is up later on. You couldn't let her get anxious about the night. You hold her hand, walking along as photographers took your photos.

You were next to Finneas and Claudia also, Finn spotting your anxiousness in seconds. You really thought you were hiding it better. He pokes your arm as an interviewer talks to Billie. "Hey whats up?" You look up at him. "What do you mean?" His brow raises. "I've known you for how many years now? Don't bullshit me what's up?" His hand rubs your arm, you grab it softly removing it. "I-" You sigh. "Ok, I'm really anxious for today, I have this odd feeling. I don't want her to see me like this though. She's enjoying herself and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Y/n." - "Please don't say anything." He's now the one to sigh. "Fine, but if she notices something is up, tell her. You know she always worries about you." You nod. "I know I know, just want her happy." He gives you a soft smile, kissing the top of your head. It was nice, he was always so brotherly towards you, you always wanted an older brother. "Like I told her, if we don't win anything it'll be ok." He pipes up. You were about to say, everything about the fact she deserves this though, she has a great right to earn this achievement. But you stay quiet, knowing he is right. You just want what's best for her. Knowing she's always so gracious.

She walks back over to you guys. "Hey, it's almost time to go, you ready?" You nod at her, giving her a smile. As she leads you out with such excitement, you look back at Finneas. He gives you a reassuring nod. Settling some nerves within you. Your mind talks as you get there, finding your seat and such. Telling yourself that this will all be ok. If it doesn't turn out good, you can be there for her. Give her encouragement, telling her she did amazing regardless- "Hello, earth to Y/n." She says standing infront of you. You snap out of your trance. "Hm?" She giggles at you. "Silly cutie." The name eases everything within you, looking into her eyes.

"I said here are our seats." She beams. You sit down, watching everyone else do so. "You excited to perform baby?" You smile sweetly at her. She smiles back. "Hell yeah. I mean a little bit nervous but this is honestly second nature to me now. I'm pumped." You could see how genuinely happy she was. It sooths everything you had previously been worried about.

But not for long, when they were up there singing your chest feels heavy, ignoring it like usual, even not in this situation you enjoy your girlfriends performance. But it doesn't go unnoticed by Claudia. "Babe, you alright?" You turn to her. Her comforting tone makes you let go for a moment. "Im still worried, I don't even know why I said in my mind whatever happens it'll be ok." She places her hand on your shoulder. "I think you're more worried about this than her." You lower your head. "I know." Sighing, but Claudia gets you to look at her. "And that's fine I hope you know, you care so much about her. It's really sweet." You felt teary. "I just want her growing more, this place can be a bit.. stingy." She laughs.

"Yep, don't we all know it." She goes to wipe one tear, but you stop her. "It's best if I get then out now so I won't- just in case of anything." The two if you share a laugh, it felt nice. Considering you usually talk to Billie about your anxiety. But that was off limits right now. You pay attention to her again, feeling calmer after your talk with Claud. Vibing to the music, less stressed. But now the roles were reversed. As the categories she was nominated for go on she seemingly is off, not as bubbly as before. But she puts up a front. "That's ok there's heaps more." You reassure her. She turns to you and smiles, wrapping an arm around you. "I'm so glad you're here." Your eyes flutter shut. "Glad I could be here baby." Her grip on you tightens a bit. And it makes you worried.

Nonetheless you push that down, you wanted to be strong for her. Be there for her. You rub her back going to sit back up as more people come to perform.

Billie was off taking some photos, you spotted her loosening up again, enjoying herself. You just thank whatever. Happy she's not as worried. You though, your anxiety was starting to come back. Little did you know it was all for a different reason. Because as soon as that last nomination comes round you didn't feel as worried, your anxiety was still present but it was for something you couldn't put your finger on. The last one was called and as they spoke, you immediately look at Billie, not hearing her name. Feeling devastated but ready to comfort. Your hand lands on her shoulder.

Noticing her eyes glaze over. You weren't expecting that to be quite honest. I mean sure upset, but it catches you off guard. You gently kiss her cheek. "You're amazing. You're my winner." And it's like she flips some sort of switch, smiling at you. But not saying a word. Odd. She claps like the rest, standing up, randomly seeming different from her state a few seconds ago. You saw it though, you knew she wasn't ok. The flip so fast, it couldn't possibly be all alright. The night ends and you all leave, getting in her car in silence. It was worrying you more. You go to speak but she does before you. "Let's go to Paris."

Your head turns towards her faster than anything. "Billie- what?" You were struck with confusion. "Let's go, get away. I know you've been talking about wanting to go for months, years even. Let's do it." You were at a loss of words. "Baby, you have tour this month, not to mention it's going to take us half a day to fly over there." She shrugs. "Yeah, but tours not until the 18th we have plenty of time." You had zero clue on what to say. "Billie-" You say concerned. She knew you were going to say something so she speaks. "Come onnn let's be spontaneous. Let's get out of here. We can go home and pack or I can just buy you whatever when we are there."

To say the least you were overwhelmed. Turning your head, looking infront of you as she drives. You tossed with the decision. Maybe it would be cool to get away. You suspected she didn't want to talk about anything tonight, so you'd leave it for a few days. "What do you say huh?" She seemed too pumped, it made your worries linger. "Yeah, sure. Let's do it." - "Yes! That's what I like to hear."

You had packed things that you'd need. But it wasn't distracting you from the events of tonight. Not like it is seeming to do with Billie. "Have you told Finn or Maggie and such yet?" She shakes her head. "Nope, it'll be fineee." That set your stomach on edge. No it wouldn't, you always kept in contact. "Better yet as soon as we get there lets put our phones on flight mode!" She goes to grab your zipped up suitcase. You let out a sigh. "Letsgooo." She says, heading for the door. "Baby." You then say, and she freezes. "Leave something?" She looks at you avoiding everything that leads to tonight. Talking, comforting. Crying.

Maybe she needed this, needed to forget, you keep to your word of doing so in a few days. "Nope, just wanted to say I love you." You smile. She comes over to kiss you. "I, love. You. Right to Paris we go!" This could potentially be fun now the moments sinked in, and you had been wanting to go for quite some time. You follow her out the door heading onto your travels.

Sitting and waiting for the flight, in a silence. Again. But it truthfully didn't last long, almost as if she didn't want to be left with her thoughts. "Ok, let's turn our phones off." You were a bit hesitant. But maybe that'll also make the trip more fun. Just with one another, enjoying the moment. You grab your phone going to do so, noticing she had posted a photo on her story of the airport. You decide to keep quiet, thinking on if this whole thing really was a good idea. You hand her your phone. "It's off." She smiles. "So is mine." You tap your your foot, moving your knee feeling that anxiety coming back. Oh. This is what your body was telling you earlier...

This.

It was 20 minutes away. You had taken a nap, had some food. Billie? None of that, they brought food around but she insisted on you having it. Making your heart tighten. Feeling so wrong still. Nor had she been asleep for all of those nearly 15 hours, staying up all day and night. It wasn't good. "Hey look at the sunshine." She points out the window. You turn your head, seeing it. Then everything floats past you. "Wow." You say amazed. You had always dreamed of coming here. It's just now set in that it's a reality. "That's, the Eiffel Tower!" You beam with excitement. "Sure is." It was beautiful. All the buildings. You smile contently.

When you land and get out, you're greeted by people with their beautiful accents. "bonjour!" Someone greets. You smile, having had practiced a tiny bit of French. "Salut!" They smile at you. "Wait you can speak French?" You nod. "Just a little. Told you this was my dream." You both smile at one another. "You're going to love our hotel room then! Looking right at the Eiffel Tower." You open your mouth. "A- wha- are you serious?" She nods, smiling more. "Oh my god!" And her plan was slowly working, not for too much longer when you figure it out though.

You arrive at the hotel, settling in. "This is breathtaking." You go out on the balcony. "Is this even real I feel like I'm in a movie." She comes out with you. "Very real my love." Then it strikes you on why she's doing this- But her mind was quicker than your own. "You see the tower there?" She points, making your mind distract as you look. "Got us a table at the restaurant there." You're shocked. "What?! How?" She smirks. "I have my ways." You laugh at her. "Say, why dont we go shopping just in time for tonight?" You nod, going to go for a pee.

She sighs a little. "Back on track." Her eyes wander off to the scenery, taking it all in.

Shopping was heaps of fun, all the pretty clothes, all the beautiful sights. But almost all of these were too expensive. "Maybe we could just-" Billie grabs the handful you were about to put back, putting it near the till. "Why don't you get those shoes you liked!" You stood there for a moment. "Billie.. Those are so much I-" "Nonsense, go go!" It took you a second to snap you out of, well honestly. None of this felt real. Then that heaviness returns to your chest. When you go to protest she had already paid for it. Shoes and all. "Baby I-" Her finger waves in your face.

The reality truly hit you. She was distracting you, she was avoiding everything. She goes to pick up the shoes heading out. You trot after her. "Can we-" "Oou let's go find a cute Cafe!" Your brows lift upwards, sewing together. Your worries were starting to fly right back. But she takes your hand as you go off to do whatever.

This was far from normal. You were getting ready, doing your makeup but you can't shake the feeling of the past 24+ hours. You felt like your mind was going to explode. You had to talk to her, you couldn't wait another day. You walk out of the bathroom, dress on and everything noticing she was dressed up to. You had nearly forgotten the topic that you wanted to discuss. "Uhm, babe?" You say, she turns around, jaw dropping. "Woah." You swallow. "Are you ready? You sure look it oh my god." You walk over to her. "Can we talk for a second?" She knew exactly what was about to come. "We don't want to be late, I made the reservation for 7." She goes to leave but you grab her arm.

"Baby-" She sighs. "I'm getting a bit peckish, are you?" She was avoiding it like the plague. You wait a moment. "Yeah, sure." She smiles, kissing your cheek. "Sweet!" And so it went on, you get to the beautiful and iconic tower, mesmerized. "Oh wow it's beautiful." She grabs your hand. "Not as beautiful as you." You stare lovingly in her eyes, such a romantic city, a forgetful one too apparently. Because just like that you were focusing on it more, finding yourself getting hungry.

The night goes on, it was peaceful. But your mind was not. There was a voice in the back telling you to just say something, but the other is battling it, saying you should enjoy this moment and the fact it doesn't happen very often. The food was delicious the view was unbelievable. Just for tonight.

It's now two days later. You cursed yourself at the fact you haven't tried talking about it. But that ends today, she needs to just let it out. You know it's hurting her deep down. The way she's handling it wasn't healthy. You were currently out getting a massage, 'her treat' which is basically been the moto this whole trip. You didn't want to waste it or seem ungrateful. But you had snatched your phone from her bag, you had to see if anyone texted. And surprise surprise they had. Maggie blowing up your calls. Finneas texting you non stop. Fuck. You regret it getting this far. You wanted to tell them but not until you talked to her first. Your finger moves to tiktok, watching all that was going down.

People saying that we've gone missing and that no ones heard from us. "Jesus." You whisper. "You alright my love?" The sweet French lady asks. How the hell did anyone even know so quick. "You're very tense." - "Yeah just- just some stuff going on right now. Sorry." She chuckles. "No need to apologize my dear. That's why you're here, to relax and be calm." You take in a deep breath, feeling her massage you further. You wish Billie was here with you, but she had been off for a run when you had woken up, seeing the little note and directions to come here. Then your eyes flutter shut and you soon fell into a peaceful slumber. One you hadn't had the night before. Due to all the tossing and turning.

Billie wasn't facing you but you knew she wasn't asleep. Fuck sake. You just can't not talk about this anymore. "Thank you, for the lovely massage." She nods gently. "Look after yourself mon amour." You give her a smile. "Merci." You reply politely. You head back, opening the hotel room to see her sitting there. "Oh you're back! How was it?" You plop your bag down. "Good but can we-" "On my run I saw this cute little wine tasting Vinyard ad, we can get a taxi and head out to it tonight! We could also stay-" You breathe slightly. "Billie-" "Or maybe that'd be too much we could stay there for the rest I know they can do-" "BILLIE!" You finally snap.

Silence.

Dead, fucking silence.

You stare at one another, and you go to speak. "Talk to me please." She averts your gaze. "I dunno what you want me to talk about." Your eyes look up, hating this weird behavior. "Billie you're frightening me. You've never done such a thing before." - "May want to elaborate." You just wanted her to let you in. "Stop shutting me out then and maybe I will!" More silence. "Please, I'm begging you lets just tal-" "I don't want to talk." She gets up but your body moves in her way. "No, you are. I'm done trying to forget, you need to let whatever this is out and this time you will not distract me." She had no. Emotion on her face. "Baby please." Your eyes were teary. "Let me help. Please." You start to sob quietly.

That's all you wanted to do, ever since that night. And there it is, her own sobs cascading down her cheeks. You nod. Proud to see it. She goes to you, hugging you, putting her head in your neck. You kiss her head over and over, trying to calm your heart down. "Its ok, I'm here. I promise." You hold her tight. "Let it in, it'll feel better afterwards." She sobs uncontrollably, having had it built up for days. "I'm so fucking sorry." You shake your head, getting her to look at you. "Don't, you didn't do anythin-" "I did, I went all fucking weird, took you here to forget, just move on. And that look on your face before fuck I'm so s-" This time you cut her off. Putting your hand over her mouth.

"Can I say something?" She nods. You go to wipe her tears. "Theres no need to apologize. If anything I'm sorry for not just doing this sooner, I thought you needed time then you'd come round. But I couldn't anymore. You were hurting and that was hurting me. I couldn't bear it any longer." She swallows. "Since I didn't get to say it then. I'll say it now. I am so fucking proud of you. You don't need some silly shiny award that honestly means nothing in the long run. You are amazing regardless." She hugs you tight. "I don't want to loose you." Your brows furrow. Confused. Then you realize why she's done all of this. She could've resulted to drinking but it was this cold outburst instead.

She was afraid she'd loose you over some silly award. You get her to look at you. "Is this why you took me here? To the place I always wanted to go buying me all this stuff?" She nods sheepishly. "Baby.." Your head shakes. "When did we meet." Now she was confused. "2015 ofcourse." You nod. "When did you first get recognized?" ... "2017 ish.." You hold her face. "I've loved you, as a friend, a partner way before any of this even happened. If that's what you're worried about, think again. Because you could loose all those trophys and I'd still be here. You matter more to me." You smile softly. "You're the only trophy I need." She says. You kiss her sweetly. "Soo, are you calling me a whore?" Her face panics making you giggle. "I'm teasing you baby." Her eyes roll.

"You're a doofus." "I'm your doofus and you're stuck with me." She smiles. "I can certainly live with that."

Everything felt clear. You two did stay in Paris for a few more days, this time with no worry in the world. Truly enjoying yourselves. That is after she texted her family back.

You sat out on the balcony, drinking your whine and her some bubbly water. The night air, cool but refreshing. "You know." She began. "There was a category I was nominated for that they didn't mention." You turn your head, utterly confused. "Having the best girlfriend." Your smile creeps on your face.

"And I fucking won."

:,) ugh cuteness.

[trevorendeavors]

As someone who's experienced chronic memory loss, let me say this is far more realistic as well. You forget the memory, but not the emotion behind it and it does indeed malinger.

Consider, even more hauntingly, forgetting that there's supposed to be an emotion behind it entirely. I've briefly forgotten friends, family, my home address, etc. and when people seemed disturbed that I couldn't retrieve those memories, I thought they were the odd ones.

It was like grieving over the fact I can't remember my second grade teacher's first name. I thought everyone was making a big deal over nothing when I couldn't remember the curly haired boy living with me (my brother) or my address of ten years. They were just words and a number to me. I didn't know until I knew, and then the sheer morbid overwhelm overtook me.

Dw tho now I got decent meds and an awesome therapist :)

Enough of the trope where memory loss undoes the damage or the corruption or whatever. More content where removing memories just removes the context.

The tragedy of needing to grieve and not knowing what or who you lost or why. The angst of having trauma and being denied the awareness that it's trauma. The suspense of being different somehow and left to wonder how and when. The tension of knowing that something is off and you can't find where it hurts. The Adventure Zone gets it. Kingdom Hearts gets it.

There is an aching inside you and you don't know how it got there.

[bitchy-craft]

PICK A CARD: Book quotes associated with your future spouse’s personality

Hello and welcome to this new reading! I will tell you books with book quotes that are associated with your future spouse. I hope you all enjoy it!

FREE READING: a subscription to my Patreon before February 7th, no matter the tier, will give you a free question of choice.

Masterpost > Paid Readings > Patreon Masterlist

The extended version of this reading can be found on my Patreon, the link of which is here

~pick a card~

Pile 1:

Your future spouse is someone who is incredibly intelligent as well as very curious. They love to learn and just get into certain things. It doesn’t really matter what it is they always love to know little facts, and adores relationships due to the complexity of it all. This is why I chose the following book: ‘The Secret History’ by Donna Tartt.

The quotes:

‘’It is easy to see things in retrospect. But I was young then, and I had never known the real privilege, so I had nothing to compare it to.’’

‘’Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it.’’

‘’There are such things as ghosts. People everywhere have always known that.’’

‘’I suppose at one time in my life I might have had any number of stories, but now there is no other. This is the only story I will ever be able to tell.’’

‘’Forgive me, for all the things I did but mostly for the ones that I did not.’’

Pile 2:

Your future spouse really enjoys deep conversations and being able to do whatever they want. They are interested in politics as well as human nature. They love nature in general, and find it fascinating to see how humans have taken over all of it. They are quite adventurous and love feeling all smart every once in a while. This is why I found ‘1984’ by George Orwell I found fitting.

The quotes:

‘’Big Brother is watching you.’’

‘’Who controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past.’’

‘’Freedom is the freedom to say that two plus two makes four. If that is granted, all else follows.’’

‘’Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood.’’

‘’War is peace. Freedom is slavery. Ignorance is strength.’’

Pile 3:

Your future spouse is very adventurous and dreamy, they’re someone who wants to achieve many things in life and their creativity is not something you see often in someone. They’re unique and fascinating. A book I found to be fitting with their overall vibe would be ‘Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone’ by J.K. Rowling.

The quotes:

‘’It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.’’

‘’To the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure.’’

‘’There are all kinds of courage. It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends.’’

‘’Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.’’

‘’Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.’’

[00valentina-writes00]

✞⛧ Playful Banters ✞⛧

Yes another inspired by @imsofreakingtired

The Leaky Drop was always a chaotic place after sundown. The usual mix of laughter, grumbling, and clinking glasses filled the air as patrons came and went, drowning their worries in whatever alcohol was cheapest on the menu. As the only bartender on duty tonight, you were busy behind the counter, trying to keep up with orders, pouring drinks, and making small talk with a few of the regulars.

It wasn’t glamorous work, but it paid the bills, and it kept you on your toes. Plus, it gave you an excuse to watch Sevika strut around the bar like she owned the place—which, let’s be honest, she pretty much did.

Sevika wasn’t exactly the kind of person to let anyone forget her presence. With her tall, imposing figure, scars etched into her skin like a warrior’s battle armor, and those sharp eyes that missed nothing, she had a way of commanding attention without saying a word. She usually sat at the bar, nursing whatever drink she was in the mood for, keeping her space but always making her mark on the night.

You weren’t quite sure when it had started—your fascination with her, that is—but every time she walked into the Leaky Drop, you couldn’t help but watch. She wasn’t exactly the warm, cuddly type, but there was something magnetic about her. Something in the way she carried herself, like she had a thousand stories hidden beneath that rough exterior, like she could tear you apart with a glance and still have a moment to spare for a drink.

And tonight, as always, you found yourself a little entranced by her presence.

She was sitting at the end of the bar, slouched slightly in her usual seat, one elbow propped up on the counter as she watched the chaos unfold around her. A bottle of something dark and strong was in front of her, and judging by the way she was swishing it around in her glass, she was already a few drinks deep.

“Hey,” you called over the noise, wiping down the counter. “Need a refill?��

Sevika glanced up at you with a raised brow, the glint of mischief in her eyes. “Why? You tryin’ to get me drunk, sweetheart?”

You smirked, leaning on the counter slightly. “I’m just making sure you’re well taken care of. Don’t want you to be parched, do I?”

Sevika chuckled, low and almost dark, before she took another sip of her drink. “Yeah, yeah. Top me off.”

You filled her glass, taking extra care as you slid it across the bar to her. As you did, a thought popped into your head—one that you’d had more than once since you started working here.

“Do you ever get tired of everyone fawning over you?” You asked, only half-joking. “I mean, you walk into this place, and the whole bar goes quiet. Must get old, right?”

Sevika laughed again, her lips curling into a grin. “Fawning over me?” She shook her head, looking amused. “Nah. I like the attention. Means I’ve got their respect.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Respect? More like fear.”

She raised an eyebrow at you. “Fear, respect… it’s all the same in the end.”

The conversation lulled for a moment, the noise of the bar filling the space between you. You kept working, fixing drinks and occasionally glancing back at Sevika, who was now swirling the ice in her glass absently.

That’s when it happened.

Sevika leaned forward, her face slightly flushed from the alcohol, and fixed her eyes on you.

“Can I ask you something?” She asked, her voice a little quieter than usual, though still laced with a mischievous edge.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Sure. Go ahead.”

Sevika’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before she took another sip of her drink. “What’s your sexual orientation?”

You blinked.

Out of all the questions she could’ve asked, this was the last one you were expecting. But you kept your cool, leaning against the counter and crossing your arms.

You’d worked with Sevika long enough to know she wasn’t the type to shy away from asking uncomfortable questions. Hell, she’d practically made a career out of making people uncomfortable.

So, you decided to have a little fun with it.

“You sure you want to know?” You smirked, cocking your head slightly. “I could give you a potentially offensive answer.”

Sevika’s lips twitched into a grin. “I guess that would be fair. You’re always messing with me anyway.”

You leaned in just a little, lowering your voice for effect. “You have fabulous tits.”

Sevika’s expression froze for a split second—eyes wide, mouth slightly open—as if your answer had completely short-circuited her brain for a moment. Then, the smallest, strangest laugh escaped her lips.

You couldn’t help but grin at the sound. “I’m sorry,” you said, trying to suppress your own amusement. “Did I catch you off guard?”

Sevika, still laughing in disbelief, held up her hand in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. I wasn’t expecting that. I thought you were gonna tell me you were into men or something, not… that.”

You leaned back, pleased with your work. “You asked for the offensive answer.”

She shook her head, her grin slowly turning into a smirk. “I should’ve known better than to ask you anything serious. You’ve got a mouth on you.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning in just a little closer. “You’re telling me you don’t like it?”

Sevika raised her hand to her forehead in mock exasperation. “I’m not saying that. But damn, I don’t know if I can handle you teasing me like this.”

You chuckled, leaning back again, feeling the heat of the moment ebbing away as you got back to your usual playful rhythm. “Oh, don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.”

She shot you a look that was part teasing, part challenge. “I could probably out-tease you any day, sweetheart.”

You grinned, uncrossing your arms to grab another bottle behind the bar. “Is that a challenge?”

Sevika took another swig of her drink, her eyes narrowing in amusement. “Maybe. You should know by now, I love a good challenge.”

You poured the next drink, sliding it toward one of the other customers, before glancing back at her. “Alright, Sev. We’ll see who’s really got the upper hand here.”

She leaned in, her voice dropping lower. “Oh, I think we both know who’s in charge here, sweetheart.”

You gave her a mock glare, though you couldn’t help but smirk.

“Careful now, Sevika,” you said, voice playfully challenging. “You might just find out I can handle way more than you think.”

She leaned back in her seat, taking another drink and looking you up and down with that same familiar, calculating expression she always wore.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea,” you replied, wiping down the counter with exaggerated care.

Sevika chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You’re lucky you’ve got that smart mouth.”

You leaned in with a wink. “And you’re lucky I think you have fabulous tits.”

Her grin spread wider. “Keep it up, and you might just have me wrapped around your finger before the night’s over.”

You shot her a look, feeling that familiar heat in your chest. “Is that a promise?”

“Maybe it is,” Sevika said, her voice full of mischief.

The night went on, the banter continuing between you two as the Leaky Drop hummed with life.

[gilverrwrites]

Seen a lot of people complaining about this and I just thought I'd throw my 2 cents/interpretation into the ring.

Dick is too handsome: Dating comes easy to him because he's attractive, he will have nothing helpful to add to the conversation. (AKA; Assumes Dick has never had to work to impress a person.)

Stephanie is too female: Stupid boys being boys vibes- assuming that Stephanie cannot answer his questions because she has not experienced what he is going through from the pov of a guy. Forgetting the fact that he is taking a girl on a date, so actually a female perspective would be beneficial.

Jason only has one-night stands: Damian has never seen, heard, or even thought about Jason dating anybody ever, but knows that he is on dating apps. Assumes at the very least Jay is getting laid on the short term, when in fact, whatever Jason is or isn't doing; he's keeping it extremely private because that's just how he is.

Damian is very smart, but he's also a teenage boy, and even the smartest teenagers are really dumb when it comes to this kinda stuff.

Basically what I'm trying to say is don't take these lines as canon or 'bad writing', they're not supposed to be meaningful in anyway, they're just Damian grasping at straws to get Tim to help him in his hour of need.

Or ya know, ignore me. I'm just a rando on the internet, enjoy stuff however you want.

[repostedpoliticalarts]

I was JUST unpacking this in therapy.

No really. In my family it’s very VERY important to remember, even as a small child, that you were NOT worth saving. That Jesus died for us even though we did not deserve and can never do ANYTHING that would mean we would deserve it. His death is to show how perfect he and his love are, it has nothing to do with us because we’re scum, filth, better off in hell.

Even though I haven’t called myself a Christian in years I finally put together that this is why I feel bad asking for money after I do a job, why I have a hard time with people complimenting me, why when my wife says “you’re hot and I want you” I know and viscerally feel that she’s just being nice and lying for my benefit. Why I don’t pursue opportunities because I assume they won’t pan out. Why there’s a constant script in my head saying “you’re a fuck up, you always have been and you always will be”.

Because ever since I was a small child I was told “you’re scum and deserve nothing. But good news, there’s this guy who has a fucked up obsession with self-mutilation for the sake of people who are absolutely not worth giving a fuck about. It’s his kink. He gets off on it. The more fucked up you are the more it shows how perfect he is that he would do that for you.

But never forget you do not deserve this. You are not worth it. You are filth.”

I’m not even exaggerating, this is literally crucial to my family’s theology. My therapist (who ironically IS a Christian) informed me that most main stream protestant faiths haven’t believed this precise theological point in hundreds of years. Then she cried thinking about why anyone would intentionally tell a child of their own that they were filth and that remembering this is a good thing that keeps them humble.

I made my therapist cry. Do I win therapy?

Look, we joke a lot, but really, "you were born evil, wretched, worse than the scum of the earth, and it took killing a god to make you salvageable, so now you'd better be grateful to that god and thank him 10,000 times a day for it and fill your thoughts with him 24/7 and abide by the letter of his every word, lest you suffer unimaginable torture for all of eternity" is a truly horrendous thing to believe about yourself and other people

[dc-gotham-instincts-wild]

Smol Au where Bruce heard one 1 detail about Tim’s home life and immediately went into Bat-Dad Override Mode.

Like, imagine Tim offhandedly mentioning something like, “Oh yeah, my parents used to forget I existed sometimes. I once had to fake a break-in just to get their attention.” And Bruce just freezes. Cue the world's longest internal monologue:

"Wait. What. What do you mean 'forget you existed'? What do you mean 'fake a break-in'? TIM, WHAT DO YOU MEAN—"

And the next thing you know, Tim blinks and—boom, Brucie Wayne has casually committed legal theft.

Paperwork? Done. Custody battle? There was none. Jack Drake? Doesn’t even realize he’s been replaced yet. Bruce just pulls some billionaire strings, has Alfred pack up Tim’s things, and suddenly Tim legally belongs to the Batfamily (As if he didn't emotionally belong to them already)

Tim: “Wait, what?” Bruce: “You live here now.” Tim (Scared of Jack): “But my father-” Bruce (Hugging him): “No. I'm done seeing you go back to a place where they don't care.”

Meanwhile, Dick, Jason, Cass, Steph, and Damian are in the background, going absolutely feral over the fact that Bruce didn’t do this sooner.

Dick is so happy he picks Tim up and swings him around like a ragdoll.

Jason takes the opportunity and breaks into the place and steals the expensive stuff that Tim mentioned he liked.

Cass just smiles and nods approvingly before immediately making Tim do some ridiculous high-difficulty sparring because "You are true family."

Steph is thriving because she’s been screaming about how her twin deserved better for years. More chaos fun for them now.

Meanwhile, Damian is pretending to be normal about it.

He’s sitting there like “Hmph. This changes nothing.”

Internally, he is losing his mind. “Father should have stolen custody a long time ago.”

He spends the next month being extra insufferable about Tim’s new legal status but also follows him around just a bit more than usual.

Then Duke shows up later, and the other Batkids make sure he gets the memo.

Cass just hands him a file labeled “People We Hate.” Jack Drake is at the top.

Jason corners him like “If you ever see a Ouija board, we’re using it to haunt Jack Drake.”

Dick just gives him the reasons straight

Steph just mentions it once or twice.

Damian openly insults Jack at a gala

By the end of the week, Duke is fully briefed and casually says “Screw Jack Drake” at the dinner table, earning an approving nod from Jason.

[animamii]

letter from lockedup!Toji that goes along with this drabble ‎♡‧₊˚

...Beautiful, I just want you to know; you're my favorite girl...

— Beautiful~~Snoop dogg + Pharrel

‎

Hey, princess.

Got your letter today. Been reading it over and over, like I always do. I swear, these pages are the only thing keeping me sane in here. When everything else in this place feels like it’s closing in, I got your words, your handwriting, the way I can almost hear your voice saying all this to me. It keeps me steady. Keeps me from losing my head.

And that picture you sent? Fuck. You tryin’ to kill me in here? I swear, if these walls weren’t in the way, I’d be home already. You look good, baby. Too good. Almost makes me mad that other people get to see you like this when I can’t. But I know you’re mine. Always have been. Always will be.

You don’t even gotta try, and you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Sitting there, all sweet, all perfect. Makes me crazy knowing I can’t reach out and touch you, pull you into me, feel your skin, hear you laugh in my ear. It ain’t fair. But I guess nothing ever has been for me. Except you. You’re the one thing in this world that ever felt like it was mine. I don’t say this enough, probably don’t say half the shit you deserve to hear, but I need you to know that. You ain’t just my girl. You’re my peace, my home, the only thing I’ve ever been afraid to lose. And that’s saying something.

I laughed when I read about Megumi and his damn ramen obsession. Stubborn little punk. I wonder where he gets it from. (Yeah, yeah, don’t say shit—I know.) Tell him I said to listen to his stepma, eat a real meal, and quit acting like he doesn’t miss me. I know how he is. Pretends he don’t care, but I bet if I walked through that door tomorrow, he’d be the first one running to me. He won’t say it, but you can see it in his eyes. Just like his old man. Make sure he’s eating real food, alright? He might act like he don’t care, but I know he listens to you. Probably more than he ever listened to me.

And you. You better be taking care of yourself too. Are you sleeping? Eating? Taking care of yourself? I know how you get—running around, worrying about everyone else, not stopping to breathe. You always got so much to worry about, but you forget you’re supposed to take care of you too. I don’t wanna hear that you’re running on empty, staying up too late, stressing yourself out. You always act tough, but I know you, baby. I know when you’re holding too much inside. I know when you need me. And I swear to you, I’m coming back.

You tell me you’ll wait. That you don’t care how long it takes. But, baby, I care. Every second in here is a goddamn eternity. Every night I go to sleep thinking about you, and every morning I wake up counting down the days until I can get back to you. And I will. No matter what I gotta do, no matter how long it takes, I will get home to you.And when I do? You better be ready. Because I’m never letting you out of my sight again. You hear me? You’re stuck with me, forever.

Wait for me just a little longer. I love you. More than I’ll ever be able to put into words.

Toji

[demonic0angel]

Ok! Spoiler warning ship. Where Wes explains why he hates Danny. No one will believe him that fenton is phantom.

Steph looks him dead in the eye, takes a deep breath. Then explains to him in a dead serious tone how stupid and dangerous that is, not only to the hero, but him and everyone else too.

(It's funny that you ask me this. Just wait for tomorrow lmaooo)

"I know that. I was fourteen." Wes crossed his arms and looked away, glaring at nothing. "It doesn't mean that I can't hate Phantom."

Steph raised a finger and opened her mouth, ready to defend Phantom when she paused and reconsidered. Then she asked, "If you know that it was dangerous, why do you still hate him? Did he do something to you?"

"Yes!" Wes spat. "Even though I was fourteen and stupid, you know what he would do? He would transform in front of me and gloat that no one believed me! Like, I get that he had a secret identity but he laughed in my face because he thought it was funny that everyone thought I was lying! Not even my family— my brothers believed me! I was called 'the Crazy Weston' for years in high school!"

Steph pursed her lips. As a vigilante, she understood the importance of secret identities and Wes had almost purposefully endangered the lives of others by trying to reveal Phantom's. But it was true that Wes had only been fourteen when he found out, and Danny had no right to tease him when he should've just explained properly.

"... okay, I get that." She scooted over to press against him. Wes didn't react, still looking irritated. Steph continued, "But aren't you two friends now? I guess I find it weird that you still hate him after so long, especially when you guys help each other so much."

"I don't really care about Phantom. Danny is just an asshole," Wes growled.

Steph did not voice the fact that Wes could also occasionally be an asshole.

Wes must've noticed because he went silent and then he said, "But we're fine now or whatever. I have blackmail on him that I can use and he lets me do it. I'll protect him because he's a hero from my world and because he's our King, but I don't care if I'm rude or not. He owes me for those years of hell in high school."

Stephanie shrugged and then smiled, pressing herself against him again. "Well, it's not like I can say anything about your relationship with him. I just wanted to make sure you know about the importance of secret identities."

"I don't want to hear that from you, Miss Spoiler," Wes said, rolling his eyes but he uncurled his arms and then wrapped one around her, pulling her closer to kiss her hair.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, just cuddling and enjoying each other's presence. Learning something new about each other was always fascinating. Steph suddenly sighed.

"Y'know, I don't know how I didn't realize before, but you're really petty."

"Excuse me? I'll have you know that I—"

Wes began to rant and Steph couldn't help but laugh at his indignation. In the end, he attacked her with angry kisses until she was shrieking with laughter.

Her boyfriend may be petty and vindictive, but at the very least, he was all hers.

(Note: I actually love how the fandom characterize Wes and I especially LOVE how hostile Wes can be. People don't seem to realize that they created the perfect character to be a villain bc let's not forget that since Kyle Weston is headcanoned to be Jazz's age, Wes is in the perfect position to threaten Danny's loved ones, especially with how Danny seems to tease him a lot (which is probably infuriating). I imagine that Wes and Danny have a frenemy relationship (that is a little one-sided), but they will help each other if need to be. Imo, with how the phandom characterizes them both interacting, they are BOTH in the wrong.)

[shiranuieditorial]

Professional editor here 🙋🏽 piping in to say that that sentence is 100% grammatically correct, but it could use a pair of em dashes (if following U.S. English standards) or en dashes (if following U.K. English standards) to break up that interior monologue or emphasised exclamation (whichever one you intended it to be) as an interjection/interruption inserted within the main sentence. It would help your readers’ clarity and understanding, and therefore, boost their enjoyment levels too!

So, yeah, it still stands that English’s grammar sphere is extremely flexible, twistable, stretchable, flammable, combustible, slice-and-diceable, and however the fuck else you wanna abuse it to your selfish satisfaction! You just gotta make sure your overall creation is still readable, parseable, legible, decipherable, understandable, and therefore, enjoyable—you know?

Unique author voices are completely different from grammatical errors and linguistic inaccuracies. The former is to be cherished! Treasured! Praised! Uplifted! Celebrated until the end of time! Meanwhile, the latter is to be reduced to a minimum, because we don’t need them if they don’t serve a very intentional purpose. A trained eye will be able to distinguish this without problem, which is indeed why human editors like me and my friends aren’t that easily replaced by AI—thank you very much!—but this elephantine task certainly takes on a differently flavoured toll when an author self-edits their own writing, especially if they don’t have years of specialised knowledge and training in the art of editing. (And trust me, it is a wholly different and just as serious of a skillset as the writing part itself.)

Now, whether or not you plan to work with a trusted professional editor later on is up to you to decide (I mean, it’s obviously recommended, but the choice is still in your hands; and even if you do hire editors, the final choice to accept or reject their suggestions is also still in your hands), but here are a few things to keep in mind during your self-editing rounds:

Trust yourself, first and foremost! You’re the one who understands your story best. If something strongly resonates with you, keep it in. At the very least, it’d add a touch of you and your humanity to your creation, if nothing else.

Having your own unique voice is a good thing. You should want more of it, and no one should ever try to kill it off of you—not even yourself. Stay authentic to yourself, explore whatever interests you, and keep honing your storytelling voice(s) through practice, practice, practice—no matter how you think it “stands out against” or “blends in with” or “doesn’t hold a candle to” or “bastardises” other people’s creations you’ve interacted with. Your voice is solely yours, and that is so, so valuable.

If you heavily suspect something contains a technical error, check with reputable sources, like some bigwig dictionary’s example sentences section, or whichever style guide you’ve chosen as your patron saint, or various editor(ial)s’ blog posts and articles, or Q&A/AMA sessions with editors or linguists, or you could try your luck and slide into their DMs if you have a particular someone you admire, or whatever combination of those options you fancy the most.

If you’ve heard or read someone irl (including yourself) say those words or that phrase/sentence/monologue before, then it’s probably fine, dude.

For hearing folks: Say it aloud. Use various text-to-speech settings to read it aloud to you. Have your friend or relative read it aloud. Does anything feel wonky, somehow? Does anything need a sprinkle of pizzazz to liven up the dead air? Do these words fit the mood you’re currently feeling during this scene? Did your companion stutter at any point?

Let your writs marinate alone for as long as you can afford to. Forget about it. Then, come back to it with a fresh perspective—not one of an author’s nor an editor’s, but pretend you are a reader who is reading some anonymous writer’s work with the intention of simply sinking into the read and enjoying whatever is served.

The world isn’t divided into “grammatically correct” and “grammatically incorrect”. There are many other variables to composing, writing, editing, proofreading, and speaking. If you have the time and headspace to learn about them, do so. Finding the proper terminologies to describe your ideas and experiences will benefit you with great satisfaction.

Punctuation marks, symbols, spacings, margins, line breaks, paragraph breaks, scene breaks, chapter breaks, placements, pacing, etc. are difficult and time-consuming for us copy editors too. Don’t beat yourself up for struggling with these technical details, but also, don’t be so afraid of them that you omit them entirely from your writs. Instead, shift your energy and attention to creating and maintaining your very own author’s style sheet, which you can then pass on to your editor to upgrade and tidy up for you as you kick back and relax, but it can certainly help ease your own writing process if you’ve sketched up your own guide for yourself.

Editing any piece of work—fiction or non-fiction or any hybrid of them—should always prioritise the author’s original vision and goals above all else. Don’t treat it like grading schoolwork with checks and crosses and /100 scores. There is no right and wrong to the art of writing. Why did you start writing in the first place? What do you want to explore and express in your crafts? What do you want your readers to get from your story? How do you want them to feel about your characters? What message are you trying to tell, and why is it important? Do you want to impress people more with your substance or your style? Linguistic unorthodoxy be damned; if your quirky choice gets the point across with all the right vibes and nuances ticked off, then go for it!

Remember that language is constantly evolving… as it should! What was once regarded as “incorrect” a century ago could easily be the norm nowadays. If you’ve decided to become the progenitor of a new trend, then you better own up to it! Be unapologetically compelling.

Remember that there is always a solution/answer to your confusion/curiosity. Even if you don’t find what you’re looking for right now, there’s still hope. Either you’ll find clarity when you least expect it, or you’ll create homemade organic closure for yourself, one way or another. The possibilities are endless. What matters most is to trust the process and never give up on yourself!

one of my worst writing sins is abusing my power to create compound words. i cannot write the sentence "The sun shone as bright as honey that afternoon." no. that's boring. "The sun was honey-bright that afternoon" however? yes. that sentence is dope as fuck. i do not care if "honey-bright" is a word in the english dictionary. i do not care if the sentence is grammatically correct. i will not change. i will not correct my erred ways. the laws of the english language are mine.

[somequeeralien]

💙OBJECTUM POSITIVITY POST💙

This post is mostly techum, but applies to any other type of objectum attraction! Don't exclude yourself, you're an important part of the community💙

There is no one way to be objectum, like there's no one way to be queer, disabled or person in general. It's absolutely ok to have preferences, it's absolutely ok to question yourself, try other labels or don't use them at all, as well as it's absolutely ok to not fall under special criteria entirely! You know yourself best, don't let others choose for you.

Being weird is ok, we're all weird here, nothing awful about it. Your love and happiness here doesn't harm others. Life is way too short to hide yourself and pretend to be "normal" just to be accepted by people who don't deserve to be near you in a first place. Think about it, if they hate you for something so harmless, just because you're not like them, how much time will pass before they do you wrong either way?

Humans are meant to be different, to explore the whole spectrum of experiences, don't say no to yours. And, please, don't do the same for others. It's absolutely ok to not agree with others or have preferences, as I mentioned, but we won't go far with hate and blaming each other.

There's always people who'll love you and be with you as long as you need, it's going to be ok, don't forget to drink water and have some time for yourself💙

⬆️ my professional opinion

[cloverapple]

Shifting FAQ and why you need to calm the FAQ down

“Can I script that—”

Yes.

“Can I shift to a reality where—”

Yes.

“Is permashifting possible?”

Yes.

“I’ve been trying for x amount of years—”

The time passed already. Focus on here and now.

“Will X happen if I script Y?”

Whatever you script will happen exactly how you want it to.

“Can I shift without any methods?”

Yes. There are infinite ways to shift = Infinite ways to go about something that is instant.

“I’ve tried everything—“

Except fully trusting yourself, since you’re still dwelling on your shifting journey from a place of lack.

“Do I need to believe 100% to shift?”

No. You just need to allow it. Doubt doesn’t stop you, resistance does.

“Is shifting, like, REALLY real?”

Yes.

“But my blockages—“

You’re not a clogged drain. There’s nothing blocking something that happens naturally.

“My subconscious doesn’t believe in my affirmations—“

Oh, my bad. I didn’t realize affirming was the only way to manifest. Sooo, what should I do with this whole bag of feeling my way into my DR, visualization, subliminals, SATs, askfirmations, scripting, channeling, daydreaming, meditating, embodying the state, living in the end, inner conversations, mental rehearsals, literally just vibing, and doing absolutely nothing because sometimes that works too? Should I just toss all that in the trash? Light it on fire? Bury it in the backyard? Cool, good to know.

“Can I shift while I’m tired? While I’m sad? While I’m stressed?”

Yes, yes, and yes. Emotions don’t block shifting. If anything, they help.

“Why haven’t I shifted yet?”

That’s like asking why the sun isn’t rising when you know it’s just beneath the horizon. You know it’s coming, you know it can break through any second, but you keep staring at the dark like the world is ending.

“How do I figure out what I need to do?”

The only person in this universe who knows the answer to that question is you, yet you doubt yourself so much, you mistrust yourself so much, that it’s like whatever your subconscious is telling you goes in one ear and out the other.

“But NOTHING works for me 😭”

Okay, listen—in the gentlest, most kindergarten-teacher voice possible—shifting is like 10% processes that “work for you” or not and 90% trust and letting go. If you can’t trust yourself, cool, trust your undeniable ability to shift. If that feels like a stretch, trust your subconscious (it’s been running the show since forever, give it some credit). Still not there? Trust the outcome. Trust something, anything. And then? LET. GO. RELAX. Like, actually unclench your jaw and stop treating shifting like it’s a piece of raw chicken and you a dog that has not eaten in *checks watch* 2 minutes.

Because if you’re over here sobbing, whining “nothing works for meeeee,” that tells me two things:

A) You don’t trust anything, which, surprise surprise, makes shifting a little difficult. B) Something does work for you. There’s a sweet spot, a method that clicks—but you haven’t found it because you approach every process with fear instead of fun, frustration instead of curiosity, anxiety instead of chill.

Imagine slipping into the driver’s seat of a car you know how to drive, but you’re bawling, panicking, flailing around like the steering wheel’s out to get you. You’re gonna hit a pedestrian. THE PEDESTRIAN IS YOU.

People forget that shifting is as limitless as you are. Shifting is you. Shifting has no rules. You have no rules. So why are you boxing shifting in? Why are you boxing yourself in? Why are you creating problems for something infinite? Why are you stepping into the identity of a finite being when you have the power to shift realities?

You weren’t born with limits. You were taught them. Conditioned to believe that things have to be hard, that you have to struggle, that you need to earn what’s already yours. But shifting doesn’t play by those rules, and neither do you. The only limits are the ones you keep dragging along with you.

“I’m quitting shifting. I still can’t shift even though I’ve tried XY and Z⏤”

This is you:

Side note: If you’ve read all this and you’re still frustrated, overwhelmed, confused, and sitting there like “I don’t know what to dooooo 😩”

Take. A. Break.

A day? Cool.

A week? Even better.

Two weeks? A whole month? Do it.

Take a break from shifting, from overthinking, from spiraling down every forum post and Reddit thread like it’s gonna reveal the secret of the universe. Because if you’ve hit that point where nothing sticks, every piece of advice goes in one ear and out the other, every answer feels wrong, and you’re waiting for some magical piece of advice to make you shift, guess what? You need to calm the FAQ down.

Maybe your brain’s flashing red lights like “WARNING: SYSTEM OVERLOAD” and you’re out here ignoring it, treating frustration and exhaustion like it’s another problem to fix instead of a big ol’ sign that your mind needs a nap and a snack.

Let it chill. Recharge. You’re not losing progress; you’re just giving your brain a breather so when you come back, shifting feels like fun again, not a chore.

[jeonscatalyst]

I'm basic and like Woosan and Minsung lol. Like, I'm a sucker and click on the YouTube shorts / tiktoks about their chemistry or how they're whipped for each other.

That said, I think if anything, the presence of fan service is a pretty clear indicator that the relationship is platonic lol. Like, if two members were actually dating, flirting, etc. then they'd keep it hidden from the public and probably other idols/industry folks, too.

i saw this on my timeline from a stan of another group. but aren't they telling the truth ? will a real couple be that public with their gay relationship with their bandmate ? Its very unlikely 2 men who have a secret relationship behind the scenes will flaunt it for public to see in their homophobic country, especially knowing its harmful for them their group their company their families etc. Going on trips, filming and releasing it, saying you got bitten, allowing staff to film it, having numerous skinship moments on screen and on stage - especially when one is extra private and professional to the point he even hides his iphone airpods which he shares with his supposed bf because they have a contract with samsung and the one who is stalked every 2 days by his y/n saesangs who apparanlty doesnt know about his sexuality or relationship with bandmate, huh?. This all sums up to them being genuine platonic friends who are playing up for their fans and doesnt mind being called a couple. None of heavily shipped duos in other groups doesnt shy away from pda, even teasing fans in their live streams because at the end of the day they are close friends who have nothing hidden going on or to fear.

Its naive to think jikook are a real couple who should be protected in their homophobic country(or world in general) and from crazy fandom when its Jikook themselves who are exhibiting their friendship in homoromantic way for public to see. Make it make sense ?

Hi anon,

So what I’m reading is that you and others see it too? You see exactly what we see…you recognize that the way Jimin and Jungkook behave with each other could easily lead anyone to believe their relationship isn’t purely platonic. Yet, rather than acknowledge that possibility, you attempt to rationalize it by arguing that a real couple, especially in a homophobic country, wouldn’t behave so openly but would instead go to great lengths to hide their relationship. Noted.

But that raises an important question: who set the rules on how people in such circumstances are supposed to behave? Sure, there are common expectations for how individuals might act in certain situations, but the truth is, we can’t possibly know the full extent of their reality. Unlike them, we don’t have firsthand insight into their experiences, nor can we accurately gauge the risks involved the way they can.

Every time I see arguments like yours, I can’t help but roll my eyes. It’s painfully clear that many people don’t understand the first thing about queer history or the ways in which queer individuals have learned to navigate a world that hasn’t always accepted them. Queer people have mastered the art of hiding in plain sight. For most, that’s second nature because, at some point in their lives, they’ve had to conceal at least parts of who they are. But let’s not forget that humans are, well, human….we aren’t always calculated. There are times when emotions override logic, and in those moments, people who are forced to hide often end up revealing more than they intend. Those are the moments where we catch glimpses of something real.

Idols, of course, are expected to engage in fanservice…it’s practically built into their job. They understand that many of their actions, especially on stage, will automatically be dismissed as just fanservice. So tell me, Anon, if you were a queer person who had spent years perfecting the art of blending in, what better way would there be to take advantage of moments where people are already primed to excuse your actions as something else?

Also, I have to wonder, do you honestly believe that most Jikookers ship Jimin and Jungkook purely because of what they do on stage or because of this “fanservice”? Because if so, that only proves how little you actually understand. There’s far more to why we believe they could be in a romantic relationship than just their stage interactions.

You brought up examples like: “Would a closeted couple go on a private trip, take videos, and post them?” And to that, I have to ask: Do you realize what you just admitted? The fact that you even question whether a closeted couple would do something like that means that, on some level, you also perceive those actions as non-platonic. So instead of asking whether a couple in a homophobic country would behave a certain way, why not ask yourself: Why would two “just friends” do these things in the first place?

Regardless of whether Jungkook filmed and posted GCF, the fact remains that he took Jimin to Tokyo…during a short break, at a time when both were going through a lot. Regardless of whether Hickeygate ever saw the light of day, the fact remains that it happened. Jungkook still carried a tipsy Jimin bridal-style, spun him around, and when Jimin wanted to be let down, he bit Jungkook’s neck…an erogenous zone. These things all happened whether we got to know about them or not. And since you’re citing these examples as things a queer couple in a homophobic country wouldn’t do, that means you also recognize that these actions don’t exactly scream platonic friendship. Unless, of course, you’re seriously trying to argue that traveling to Japan together, carrying each other in their arms, and biting each other’s necks in private were all just for the sake of fanservice?

“Its naive to think jikook are a real couple who should be protected in their homophobic country(or world in general) and from crazy fandom when its Jikook themselves who are exhibiting their friendship in homoromantic way for public to see. Make it make sense ? "

No, Anon. I don’t think Jikook are deliberately presenting their friendship in a homoerotic way. I think they’re simply existing and interacting with each other in a way that comes naturally to them. You’re the one perceiving something more…..and that says a lot more about your own instincts than whatever you think Jimin and Jungkook are intentionally doing.

And once again, don’t assume for a second that I, or most Jikookers, believe in Jikook just because of what you call “fanservice.” That’s where non-shippers and rival shippers (honestly, I can’t tell which you are) always get it wrong. You miss the details that people who genuinely pay attention to Jimin and Jungkook as a duo pick up on. The little things….the ones that make all the difference.

Go back and carefully comb through Jimin and Jungkook’s history if you care to. Look at all the little TMI’s we’ve gathered over the years, from staff members, Jikook themselves, from the members and from their friends and acquaintances. Then come back and tell me, honestly, if you still believe that people think there is more going on with Jikook because of “fanservice.”

[alieinthemorning]

Familiar Warmth [Caleb]

Content: Touch-Starved, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Soft Caleb, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None

Note: I see Caleb within the childhood friend trope. Anything outside of that makes me uncomfortable, so I won’t be engaging with it in any sort of way.

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries

Wanna support me? Here’s my Ko-Fi!

It was raining tonight. Although it sounded far off despite the curtains being open, letting in the blurry moonlight. He focused on the pitter-patter of rain, he focused on his breathing, his heartbeat…

And yours. 

He was at your house, an occurrence that was somehow both rare and frequent. Anytime he had a break from being the colonel, he sought you out. He needed to be around you. You drowned out the darkness, the voices, all of it. It left him with just you and him, and that’s all he needed. 

When the rain started, you pulled him up from the couch and dragged him to your bedroom. He was very confused at first. Especially when you stripped down to your undergarments (and told him to follow suit), but then you lied down and gestured for him to join you and he understood. He went to lie beside you, but you gently tugged his arm closer to you. He confusedly maneuvered himself on top of you, resting his head on your chest. Then your hands made their way into his hair, and he melted. 

How long had it been since you’d done this for him? Over a decade. It felt even longer after his death and year separation from you. Even after all this time, however, your fingers were still gentle, and you still hummed that same tune. 

On one hand, it made him feel like a kid again, but on the other…he felt special. Like this was just for him, you’d never do this for anyone else….well, maybe someone else…someone who looked a little bit like you and a little bit like him—

“You’re thinking pretty hard, Cap’.” Your comment pulled him out of his thoughts. “Wanna talk about it?”

He flushed. He definitely didn’t want to tell you about his white picket fence dream. At least not now, not while he was deep in your bliss. If that made him selfish, so be it. 

“Should I start guessing?” 

Eyes reminiscent of sugilite flashed open met your closed ones. There was a soft smile gracing your features with the moonlight from the open curtains of your window haloing you.

You were beautiful.

He shifted his head so that his chin was resting on your chest now. “Nah, you’re just imagining things.”

“Yeah, sure. You’re definitely not thinking about the future right now.” You chuckled. “When you think about the past, you start running your mouth, but when you think about the future…you get real quiet…”

He froze. 

You were entirely too perceptive for your own good. 

And his silence was a loud confirmation.

He quietly cursed himself. It had taken a while, and a lot of apologies, but he had finally gained some semblance of trust with you again. And now here he was, thinking useless things. Especially since the last time he talked about the future to you, it was in a frantic haze where he said he’d lock you up in a maze where no one could find you. He hated himself for saying that. For scaring you. 

He pulled away from you, showing you his back as he sat on the edge of the bed. He wanted to leave, to shut you out and act like nothing was wrong. However, you had followed him, and the warmth of your hand was already bleeding into his back. He swore he could even feel it in his mechanical arm. 

“Talk to me.”

His eyes slid close as his body leaned forward. His elbows on his knees, and head in his hands. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and your body pressed against his. 

“I keep thinking about…our future together. Which I know isn’t right because it’s not a given that I’m even in a future with you. I mean—I just barely regained a fraction of your trust, but—” His fumbled words became a sigh. “Ah…I feel a pervert”

“How so?”

“I…I keep thinking about kids…our kids.”He sighed roughly in an attempt to keep some deeper feelings from breaching the surface. “I know I shouldn’t. Especially after what I said to you. Having a kid by me would probably feel the same to you. You’d feel trapped—trapped to me, and I shouldn’t do that to you and—”

“Do think our kids would have your eyes or mine? Honestly, I’d want each of them to look like a good mix of the both of us, but if I had to choose, I’d choose your eye color.”

“Huh?” He asked dumbly. 

“What if they had an eye color each? I think that’d look good too.”

What were you saying?

Were you really fantasizing about the two of your future children right now?

And you weren’t admonishing him for having thoughts like these either? 

You had thought about it yourself?

“Am I dreaming?” He murmured, not meaning to say that out loud. 

“Nope.” You pulled away from him for a moment, making your way into his lap. “You may have lost my trust before, but you’re slowly gaining it back. And plus,” You paused, gently brushing your palm against his cheek. “You’re my forever co-pilot, Caleb.”

He chuckled, hands slotting against your waist. “Co-pilot. Who’s the one with the credentials?”

“I’m the pilot in my life, just as you are in yours.” You smiled at him. “We’re both each other’s co-pilots.”

“Maybe I should make it official…?” He asked, unable to hide the timid hopefulness as he brought up a hand to tap your left ring finger. 

You laughed. “I’ll give you the signal, Cap’in.” Then your gaze turned soft as you gathered his face in your hands. “I love you, Caleb. I always have.”

That knocked the wind out of him. He couldn’t have stopped the tears if he tried. They were sudden and unrelenting as they flooded from his tear ducts, down his checks, in between your fingers and down your wrists. 

Despite this, he smiled. 

“Thank you for loving me all this time, pip-squeak.”

:) This was just supposed to be fluff. I ended up making a man cry. AGAIN

CALL THAT ON BRAND

Ko-Fi | Masterlist

[bugisastranger]

hey babe 🩷 if you have the time or inspiration to write please consider fake dating to lovers with Clark Kent, like a to all the boys I’ve loved before typa situation

a/n: thank u for the request anon!!! sorry it took me a bit to get around to it - i can be a busy busy gal.

"you want me to what?"

clark's voice is unlike anything you'd ever heard from him, his shock nothing less than apparent. you shush him, looking around the hallway to see if anyone's noticed. it's lucky for you that nobody did.

"come on, clark. it's one night! not even! it's like, a few hours at most."

"can't you ask someone else? pete?"

"i don't want to ask pete. he won't be able to sell it."

"and you think i can?" he's exasperated, leaning closer to you as if he's suddenly aware how many people could overhear this conversation. "i'm a horrible liar."

"please? you know how my family can be," you whisper, looking up at clark. he sighs, hanging his head. he does know how your family can be—overbearing—which is exactly why he's hesitant. but you're you, so how can he actually say no?

"okay. okay, fine."

"really?" you ask, nearly jumping out of your skin. your arms slide around clark's neck as you excitedly let out a few small 'thank you's. clark's still frozen in place from his decision, but forces one of his arms to slide awkwardly around your hip. he's in for it, isn't he?

the ringing of the school bell pulls the two of you apart, and you quickly shut your locker, making your way towards your first class. clark keeps his place beside you. "so, what does this mean, exactly? what do you want from me?"

"jeez, clark, that sounds like i'm holding you hostage. it's just a favor."

"yeah, yeah. whatever. what do you need me to do?" he asks, taking his seat next to you at the lab table.

"i don't know. whatever feels natural," you say, bending to the side to pull your textbook out of your bag, a gesture which clark never would've took a second glance at. but today, with your hair falling in front of your face (and then you pushing it away), something's different. he doesn't even notice he forgot to say something in response to you until you glance back at him, confused at his silence.

"uh—" he clears his throat. "how am i supposed to know what's natural? we've never dated before." oops. overly sarcastic.

"have you never even considered it?"

"what?" clark's baffled by your question, but you ask it so casually, like it's not taking the ground out from beneath his feet. it's not that he hasn't considered it. it's that he has. he knows all too well how he wants to walk with his arm around your shoulders, how he wants to have you cuddle into his side as you watch a movie, how he wants to absolutely spoil you—as if he has the money for that anyway. "i—"

"you know what? forget i said that. i don't wanna know," you mutter. "just, like, pretend like you're obsessed with me, i don't know."

"hey, lovebirds! you done?" the teacher calls from the front of the classroom.

as clark starts, "oh, we're n—"

you say, "sorry! we're sorry." and then the both of you, red in your faces, stay silent. you barely even move, feeling reprimanded, even though your teacher was barely offended.

when the teacher lets the class work in pairs, clark decides to use the time to talk to you instead. he could do the work later. "can you just give me an idea of what the night's going to look like, at least?"

you take a quick glance at the teacher, making sure her eyes aren't on you and clark. "you'll come over and i'll introduce you as my boyfriend. my parents won't be suspicious, because i'll start bringing it up today. and they won't be too intimidating. my uncle might, but they'll love you. there's something about you that screams 'good guy' and they'll pick up on it." you twirl the pen in your hands. "it'll be fine. you have nothing to worry about, really." clark feels his heart skip a beat when you place your hand on his bicep—which is supposed to be a comforting gesture. what's happening to him? you've touched him before. plenty of times, actually. this shouldn't mean a thing.

a few days later, and clark is taking deep breaths as he walks down the path to your front door. before he can even meet the porch, you're outside, greeting him. he nearly stops in his tracks when he sees you, your hair half up, half down. the dress you're wearing is baby pink, and something about this sight—seeing you so... girly does something to him, even if he won't admit it.

"hi," you say, breaking the awkward silence. "ignore the dress, i'm trying something a little different."

"no, it's good. you look great," he forces. and then, he remembers he's supposed to be your boyfriend, he's allowed to flirt with you. "you look really pretty." he swears he sees your expression change, like you're nervous. it makes his hand tense, and he nearly crushes the stems of the flowers he forgot he's holding. "oh, these are for you."

"thank you. this is..."

"good enough, i hope?"

"better. i knew you wouldn't let me down."

"can't leave my girlfriend hanging, can i?" oh. oh. that gets you. and clark knows it, too.

"uh—" you start, looking at him with what can only be described as a mix of shock and infatuation. "we should go inside."

and as you're walking towards your front door—"i should call you something, shouldn't i?"

"what?" you turn back around, facing him.

"honey," he tries. "no, too mature. babe?" clark watches your reactions carefully, and even though you seem affected, 'babe' doesn't have the punch he was hoping for. "sweetheart?" bingo.

"sweetheart is fine," you mutter, trying to ignore the way your face heats up.

"okay, sweetheart. you ready for this?" you nod, walking towards the door with clark at your side. "what about princess?"

"too much. you can't call me that in front of my family."

"but i can call you that when we're alone?"

"clark!"

"it's just a question, sweetheart," clark teases, fighting back a chuckle. he could do this the rest of his life.

part two coming soon?!