617 question! how did your stalker yoon get his wires crossed in the first place? & what do you think he was doing before his neighbor moved in?
I plan to share some of his backstory in future chapters, so I don't want to spoil exactly why he's twisted like that. But it's connected to difficult relations with parents (yk "I had a difficult childhood" type of bad guy).
Before she moved in, his life was painfully repetitiveâstudy, eat, sleep. Just a very empty existence, which is why he latched onto her so intensely when she appeared and disturbed his peace that he worked so hard on.
I seriously need to start reading more fics đ but I do have a few.
Nemesis recs pt. 1
love lockdown by @personasintro â this deserves a special place on this list because, without it, I probably wouldn't be here writing today. The lack of updates inspired me to come up with my own version of zombie apocalypse Yoongi đ, and without that, none of my stories would probably exist. I'm still waiting for an update!!!
basic needs & self fulfillment needs by @gggukniverse â also still waiting for an update đ This is genuinely one of the best smut fics I've read so far that I keep coming back to
hot & bothered by @ktownshizzle â I don't read this type of stories often, but it was really sweet <3
snowball series by @werezmastarbucks â the one that inspired me to write my own psycho stalker!
moon dreams by @kikiskook â freaky, but surprisingly sweet in the end. I actually reread it a few days ago
tysm for responding :) totally see why you chose those eras for each fic. debut yoongi really is such a bad boy wannabe lmao. imo the only darker tropes i could see for him are the weird emo kid in class who's mean to you, or the best friend with some serious boundary issues haha. also â if you ever feel like posting it, i would definitely love to read your irl-yoongi inspired writing too <3
ooh i like the best friend one. i might write something about it someday. some kind of yandere in love with their best friend. i'll have to come up with a plot first, but i'm definitely adding it to my to-do list. thank you so much for your support <3 i love responding to asks sm
slightly meta but what is it about dark!yoongi you like so much? pls tell us all about the history of your fascination/infatuation/etc with him bc i am so curious. also i know you only write AUs, but do different suga eras (for example debut vs d-day) evoke different facets of, for lack of a better term, creep factor? lol
damn, this is such an interesting question! i love it
i've always been into psychology, especially personality disorders and trauma. i love creating morally grey, complex characters where you can't tell if you love or hate them, so i naturally lean into darker topics.
as for why i write him specifically, i just think he fits the kind of stories i make. i've basically grown up with BTS, so they became a part of me. yoongi ended up becoming my comfort celebrity, and i feel like our personalities are the most alike.
all of my stories are inspired by different eras. I don't really write the ârealâ Yoongi (although I do have a soft romance draft with more irl yoongi hidden deep in my folders), but rather the characters from his MVs and albums. Each is a slightly different version of him in my head, which gives me different ideas. For example. All that remains is basically HYYH Yoongi set in a zombie apocalypse. Off-brand baby is somewhere between HYYH and WINGS. 617 is WINGS, and Angel for sale is HAEGUM. I see debut Yoongi as more of a high school sweetheart/bad-boy wannabe, so i can't really imagine him being some sort of mafia boss or a stalker.
I hope that answers your question. đ if not, feel free to ask more I'm loving this
if I somehow manage to forget tagging someone in my fics, I highly encourage you to fill out my taglist form! it makes it so much easier for me to keep track of who to tag where <3 thank you!
synopsis; Some distances are small enough to cross only once. What begins as surveillance spirals into something uglierâfantasies that leave him shaken by how far heâs willing to go for someone who still has no idea what he truly is.
pairing; stalker yoongi x female reader
genre; psychological thriller, angst, smut
warnings; +18, dead dove: do not eat, dubcon, stalking, psychological manipulation, emotional manipulation, gaslighting, power imbalance, predatory behavior, yandere themes, yoongi is just being insane, creepy/disturbing/disgusting behavior, fear of heights, masturbation (m)
notes; yoongi the creepy neighbour is finally here! i forgot how fun it is to write him. i love coming up with the weird unhinged shit he does for y/n. just wait till he realizes y/n has more chemistry with seokjin than him. i'm sorry for the delay </3 but i had my friends birthday party on saturday and i got a huge hangover. i keep writing something everyday before bed but i just end up deleting everything... but i hope you'll enjoy it <3
wc; 3.3k
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Charlie Parkerâs saxophone drifted through the apartment, notes fluttering like startled birds against the rain-lashed windows. Yoongi barely heard themâhe sat slumped deep into the couch, one arm slung loosely over the backrest, fingers twitching once before falling still again.
Back and forth. Back and forth.
He pressed the button with a soft click. Folders opened one after anotherâclass notes, archived files, old projects. Harringtonâs Obedience to Authority assignment. Research sorted neatly into subfolders. Weeks spent studying coercion. On how sweetly people knelt. It taught him how one was equal. They could lie about it all they wantedâsociety, friendship, loveâbut equality was a myth. People were either beneath him or above him. Never beside him.Â
He still couldnât decide where she belonged.
Yoongi scrolled past the older files without interest until he reached the most recent one. The Excel sheet opened, rows of timestamps crowding the screen with his next project. Dates. Sounds. Patterns. Entire weeks of her life reduced to cells and observations.
11:47 p.m.âReturned with Bianca + unknown male. Laughter sounded forced. Door closed at 12:03 a.m. Went to sleep alone.
His eyes caught on that final sentence and stayed there. Slowly, he leaned back, two fingers settling against his lips. At his feet, Rat curled tighter into herself, tail flicking once against Yoongiâs ankle. The spreadsheet had started innocently. Just small things at first. What time she usually left for class. Which days she skipped breakfast. How often she ordered takeout.
Yoongi refreshed the file out of habit, eyes drifting to the unfinished row he'd started the night before. The cursor blinked against the empty cell. Waiting.
It was supposed to be a regular Friday.
He had timed it perfectly. 7:49 a.m. Her door would open. Three seconds later, he would step outâjacket already on, keys in handâand offer to walk with her. Maybe drive her if the rain got worse. She would hesitate first, lips parting just enough to betray the argument inside her. She always hesitated before accepting kindness. Like she expected it to be taken back at any moment.
But the lock beside him clicked at 7:13 a.m.
Too early.
At least twenty minutes early. Wrong rhythm. No jangle of frantic keys. No muffled curses bleeding through the walls. Instead, steady footsteps faded down the hallway.Â
He was moving before the thought caught up. Shoes were shoved on untied. Door shut soundlessly behind him. He followed the fading trace of her perfume down the stairwellâfloral cut with something sharper, almost bitter. It didnât quite belong to the girl who had trembled beside him two nights ago.
Yoongi kept half a block between them, the distance a fragile lie he told himself made him invisible. Even from that far away, he noticed the difference immediately. The skirt riding high with every step, offering brief flashes of skin catching beneath the streetlights. The gray turtleneck that strangled her throat. Hair styled carefully, loose strands brushing against her cheeks whenever the wind shifted.
This wasnât for class. This wasnât random. And it wasnât for him.
A figure stepped out from a side street. Tall. Loose-shouldered. Effortless in the way attractive people often were without realizing it. The man called her name once. She turned immediately, her face lighting up in a way Yoongi had never managed to pull from her himself. He brushed a hand against her shoulder in greeting. Casual. It lingered half a second too long, his thumb brushing the seam of her turtleneck.
ââŠstill havenât started the Harrington thing,â she admitted with that familiar thread of worry in her voice that Yoongi drank like wine. âI donât even know where to start.â
Seokjin smiled. âIf you want, we can go over it at lunch. My notes are actually decent.â
âI donât want to waste your time,â she murmured, though relief had already begun to bleed through. Gratitude, warm and unguardedâthe same tone she'd used with him when he fed her soup or when he comforted her after the bar.
âYouâre not wasting anything.â Seokjin said, guiding her around a muddy puddle, his palm sliding lower along her back. âBesides, Bianca would kill me if I let you fail corporate law.â
She laughed, small and bright. âIâm pretty sure Bianca needs your help more than I do.â
âShe does,â he nodded. âBut you at least pretend to listen when I explain things.â
Yoongiâs nails pressed crescents into his palms inside his pockets. Eight meters. Five. Close enough to smell her shampoo. Close enough to imagine snapping Seokjinâs wrist like dry kindling. Yoongi swore her laugh was forcedâit came too easily and too loud. It couldn't be real.
âSeriously, though,â she said, tugging the sleeves of her coat lower. âI opened the assignment and immediately closed my laptop again. Harrington genuinely hates students. Thereâs no other explanation.â
Seokjin snorted. âNo, he hates weak arguments. He values confidence more than being right.â
âThat sounds like something someone says right before becoming morally bankrupt.â
âI already am morally bankrupt,â he replied with a smile. âThatâs why I got an A.â
She laughed harder this time, her head tipping back slightly.
âSo your entire academic strategy is manipulation?â
Seokjin shrugged. âItâs worked so far.â
âYou're awfully good at this.â
He tilted his head. âAt law?â
âNo,â she shook her head, smiling despite herself. âAt sounding confident even when you're bullshitting.â
âBut it's making you smile.â
She rolled her eyes. âOut of pity.â
âMm.â Seokjin glanced sideways at her. âYou say that now, but give it one year. Youâll be weaponizing tears for extensions like the rest of them.âÂ
âI would never.â
âYou absolutely would.â
She pressed a hand to her chest. âThatâs a horrible accusation.â
"Trust me, I've been there before."
Their pace had slowed without either of them seeming to notice. The backs of their hands brushed together between steps. Her hand twitched at the first touch, but then she seemed to reach for it.Â
A pulse throbbed slowly in his jaw.
Yoongi imagined stepping forward. Imagined grabbing Seokjin by the collar and driving him face-first into the wet brick wall beside the alley. Imagined the sharp crack of bone. Her scream. The stunned confusion on Seokjinâs face right before fear finally replaced that calm expression.
Instead, he stayed where he was. Starving.
âYou know what your problem is?â he continued.
âI have several.â
âYou assume asking for help makes you annoying.â
âDoesnât it?â
âNo.â His voice softened. âIt makes you human.â
A branch snapped under Yoongiâs shoeâsharp as breaking bone. Seokjinâs head turned. Their eyes met. Recognition flickered across Seokjin's face. A slow tilt of the head, eyes measuring the distance Yoongi had closed. Then something worse. Amusement. The corner of Seokjinâs mouth curved slightly, like he understood something Yoongi didnât. He hasn't acknowledged Yoongi aloud. Instead, he leaned closer to her and murmured near her ear, which pulled another laugh from her throat.
Yoongi stopped walking. Rain slid cold beneath the collar of his jacket, connecting with his sweat. He watched them disappear farther down the street.
Fine.
If she insisted on walking toward wolves, he would simply have to become the better one.
Back in his apartment, the record still spun. Yoongi rested outside on the balcony with a cigarette hanging between his fingers. The space was barely large enough for the plastic chair and a narrow round table. Some mornings he sat there with coffee hot enough to burn his tongue while the icy air chewed through his clothes. The contrast kept him awake. Below, the city stretched in long grey lines. Roads slick with old rain. An endless forest of concrete blocks.
His gaze drifted automatically toward the balcony beside his. Same cheap flooring. Same black railing spotted with rust near the bolts. A tiny table pushed against the wall. One chair. Nothing special. Except it belonged to her. That changed everything.Â
The balconies sat closer together than they should have. Yoongi leaned on the railing, eyes narrowing as he measured the gap. One careful step over the bars. A grip on the divider. Shift his weight slowly. It was manageable. Only two floors below him. If he slipped, heâd probably survive. Probably.
Same door handle as his. If she forgot to lock itâ
His thoughts stopped abruptly.
No.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
Breaking into her apartment wasnât just curiosity anymore. It wasnât harmless. If she found out, everything heâd built with her would collapse instantly. Every careful conversation. Every moment sheâd softened around him. Gone.
StillâŠ
He wouldnât steal anything. Wouldnât touch anything. Just look. People visited each otherâs apartments all the time. He simply happened to be doing it differently. That wasnât dangerous. Was it?
He imagined the smell inside first. Vanilla candles. Maybe dusty textbooks scattered over the couch.
Yoongi exhaled through his nose.
No.
Absolutely not.
If he wanted something real with her, he needed boundaries. Trust. Self-control. Breaking into her apartment like some fucking psychopath was not a good start.
A moment later, he realized heâd already swung one leg over the railing. He froze. Cold metal dug into his palms as his grip tightened instinctively. Half his body leaned out into open air now, one foot balancing uncertainly against the narrow concrete edge outside the bars. Then he moved the other leg over. Now all of his weight depended on that narrow edge and the balance of his heels. The height hit him. From inside the balcony, the drop had looked manageable. From here, it looked endless. Wind rushed upward between the buildings, threading beneath his clothes and licking the sweat gathering along the back of his neck. His thighs trembled from the strain of holding himself steady.
Yoongi swallowed and stretched his right leg carefully toward her balcony. The tip of his shoe scraped concrete. For one hopeful second, he thought he had it. Then his foot slipped. His stomach dropped so violently he nearly puked. Yoongi jerked backward on instinct, clinging to the railing hard enough for the pain to explode through his wrists. A hot flash tore through his body before fading just as quickly, leaving him cold and shaking.
The railing had gone slick beneath his palms. He glanced down once and instantly regretted it. The pavement seemed farther away now. He squeezed his eyes shut hard enough to see static. Then tried again. Left leg first. The sole of his shoe landed against the floor with a dull scrape and held steady. He stopped breathing. Carefully, he reached outward with his left hand until his fingers wrapped around the second railing. His body stretched painfully between the balconies now, muscles shaking violently from the effort. One wrong shift of weight andâŠ
Donât think about it.
With one sharp movement, he dragged himself fully across. Both shoes slammed against the solid concrete. For several seconds, he could only stand there, bent forward over the railing while his lungs struggled to catch up.
âI did it.â
A laugh burst out of him unexpectedly.
âI actually fucking did it.â
âExcuse me?â
The voice nearly stopped his heart. A middle-aged man stood on the sidewalk below, plastic grocery bags hanging from one hand as he stared upward with open disbelief.
â⊠What exactly are you doing up there?â
Yoongi blinked once, suddenly looking far closer to death than he had dangling between the balconies.
âHahâfunny story,â he called down, forcing out a strained smile. âI locked myself out. Left my keys inside.â
The man frowned immediately, head tilting to the left as suspicion settled across his face.
He doesnât believe this shit.
Then, unexpectedly, the man barked out a laugh.
âJesus Christ.â He shook his head. âOne slip and youâd crack open like an egg.â
Yoongi laughed weakly with him, though his knees still felt unstable.
âYeah,â he agreed. âRealized that halfway through.â
âBe careful, kid.â
The man disappeared inside the building lobby, still muttering to himself. Silence settled again. Yoongi looked up and carefully climbed through the last barrier and finally touched safe, steady ground. He held onto his knees, taking a deep breath before straightening and turning toward the door.Â
Up close, he could see faint fingerprints clouding the handle. Tiny scratches in the paint. His heartbeat picked up again. This was real now. Yoongi wrapped his hand around the handle and pushed down.
His stomach sank.
She locked it?
He tried again, slower this time. The handle shifted slightly before catching halfway. Relief flooded him so quickly it almost made him dizzy. Not locked. Just stuck. Yoongi planted one hand against the glass and shoved his shoulder into the frame.
âCome on,â he muttered, pushing harder.
Muscles strained. Heat burned across his palms. The door suddenly gave way with a sharp crack. Yoongi stumbled violently forward, losing his footing as momentum threw him into the apartment. His elbow slammed against hardwood. Pain exploded up his arm instantlyâwhite and electric, all the way to his shoulder.
âShitââ
He curled, breath hissing through clenched teeth. Then the smell hit him. Her.
A slow smile pulled at the corner of his mouth before he could stop it.
Yoongi pushed himself upright, steadying his weight against the couch beside him. He moved like a ghost through her small life. Smaller than heâd imagined. The studio stretched in an awkward T-shape, every section bleeding into the next without real separation. To the left sat the kitchenânarrow counters, cream-colored cabinets painted, and an ancient stove with scratches near the burners. A fridge hummed unevenly in the corner beside a sink crowded with dishes. Near the outlet sat a kettle surrounded by scattered tea packets and a half-empty jar of sugar. Yoongi stepped closer to the fridge. Sticky notes covered the door.
wash the dishes!!!
buy oat milk
meet seokjin at 7:30
bake something for bianca
His eyes stopped on Seokjinâs name. The note had been written quickly, letters pressed too hard into paper. When has she planned this?
Across from the kitchen sat the living space. An open textbook rested beside the cushions, highlighted paragraphs bleeding neon pink across the pages. Beyond it, the sleeping area opened quietly into view. Makeup products crowded the floor around a tall mirrorâfoundation left uncapped, mascara tossed sideways.
Then came the bed. Yoongi moved toward it slowly. The duvet lay twisted near the center. One pillow still carried the faint impression of her head. Another textbook rested near the edge beneath a mess of charging cables and folded notes. Carefully, Yoongi sat down onto the mattress. The springs groaned softly beneath his weight. His hands moved over the pillow, and one long strand of hair caught on his finger. He wrapped it tenderly around his knuckle until the skin beneath it paled. The image came easilyâher curled against his chest, half asleep while rain pressed softly against the windows. His fingers moving through her hair.
A faint vibration startled him. His head snapped up. Another buzz. Somewhere inside the apartment. Yoongi stood up, pulse jumping against his ribs. The sound led him into the bathroom. It barely had enough room to turn around comfortably. Skincare bottles crowded every inch of the sink. Half-used lip balms. A toothbrush left carelessly beside the faucet. A phone lit faintly beside it.
Bianca
how was the meeting with seokjin
8:32 a.m
did you survive novakâs show
9:24 a.m.
yooo
hello??
9:30 a.m.
where the fuck are you
did seokjin kidnap you or something
did you even go to class???
9:33 a.m.
Yoongi stared at the message before forcing himself to look away. The shower curtain hung partially open beside him. It was too easy to imagine her here. Steam clouding the mirror. Water sliding down her spine. Her hair darkened and clinging to bare skin while she hummed softly to herself, unaware. Him behind her. Both of them squeezing in this tiny space, accidentally elbowing each other while showering. Or pressing her against the wall, taking, owningâwhile she gasped his name like prayer or terror.
The bathroom suddenly felt smaller. Hotter. Yoongi dragged a hand down his face hard enough to burn. He looked away, on the floor, to think aboutâ
Clothes. From last night. Or today. A t-shirt. Shorts. Black lace tangled between them.
It was ridiculous. Just clothing. Fabric. Nothing more. Just some material soaked in her smell.
The scent rose the second he brought it to his faceâwarm skin, faint soap, the ghost of her. Something strained escaped his throat. He was already aching. Shame and need crashed together so violently his vision blurred. His jeans dropped with a soft click of the belt hitting the tiles. Cock heavy and leaking. The first rough stroke pulled a low groan from his chest.
He closed his eyes. In his mind she was there with him. Pressed against these tiles but looking at him. Eyes soft and hazy. No hesitation this time. She wanted this. Wanted him. Her hands slid up his chest, fingers curling into his shirt like she was afraid heâd disappear.
âYoongiâŠâ she breathed against his mouth, half-laugh, half-plea.
He imagined kissing her slowly at first, then deeper, hungrier, tasting the small sounds she made when his hand slipped between her legs. Heâd drop to his knees if she let him, worship every inch Seokjin had only been allowed to glance at.
His strokes turned faster, almost punishing. The lace dragged against sensitive skin, already soaked with him. He pictured her thighs tightening around his hips, her head falling back against the tile with a soft thud as he pushed inside herâtight, wet, his. Sheâd moan his name like she meant it. Like sheâd been waiting for him to break. To finally stop pretending. Her nails digging into his shoulders, legs locked around him, hips rolling to meet every thrust because she needed this too. Needed him.
He could almost hear the way her voice would crack on a shaky âpleaseâânot fear, just overwhelming want. The way sheâd look at him after, flushed and ruined in the best way, whispering that sheâd never looked at Seokjin like that. Couldnât. Not when Yoongi saw her so completely.
The orgasm hit him hard and blinding. He came with a strangled groan into the black lace, pulse after pulse, knees buckling until his head rested against the cold tile. The pleasure ebbed fast, leaving only the wet mess in his hand and the heavy thud of his heart.
What the fuck are you doing?
He stared at the ruined fabric, sticky and warm. Hers. Now unmistakably his too. For a second the thought of leaving it for her to find flickered through his mindâdark and tempting. He crushed it. Stuffed the panties deep into his pocket instead.
At least he hadnât smelled her socks.
Yoongi stared at himself faintly reflected in the dusty mirror. He looked insane. That thought should have stopped him. He left the bathroom and headed toward the balcony door. Halfway there, he paused.
The dishes.
Yoong hated dirty dishes. Noâdespised them.
Only two mugs. One plate. One fork.
He checked the time.
9:43a.m.
She would be back soon. StillâŠ
The dishes bothered him more than they should have. Yoongi exhaled quietly and turned the faucet. Warm water rushed over his hands as he washed each dish carefully, drying them before placing them neatly on the rack. Once it was done, he peeled the sticky note from the fridge and crumpled it into the trash.
He stood in the center of her apartment for a long moment, breathing her air, listening to the faint jazz bleeding through the wall. His jazz. Playing for her, whether she knew it or not.
The balcony door shut more easily behind him than expected. And this time, crossing back didnât scare him nearly as much.
I love your blog!! Do you have any recommendations for stories by new writers here? đđ»đđ»
anonie you just gave me the perfect excuse to talk (well i was/am/will planning to promote individual writer) about some writers i've been wanting to push into people's hands so. here we go đ«¶đ»
@twelveohfour â new and writes SeokJin ff. two fics to start you off: Multifaceted (husband!jin + jewelry + zero plot just vibes) and The Practical Aspects of Learning (uni au strangers to lovers, 19k of slow delicious build).
@tarathetic â jungkook writer with 3 completed series and oneshots already. The Rental Masterpiece is rental boyfriend!jk and it is exactly as cute as it sounds. she also has Ink Without Name and Bread and Breath on the same masterlist if you want more. I'm myself reading B&B. miss you love, come back soon :).
@jinsskys â her Masterlist is called "pieces of my heart in words" and honestly that's all the warning you need. she's currenlty writing Unwritten Symphony (idol au). go join her taglist to be updated. jimin biased babies, come here take the bait.
@n33mesis â dark fic girlie, not for everyone but if it's for you it's really for you. Angel for Sale is mafia!yoongi, psychological thriller, dead dove territory. check the warnings seriously but the writing is gripping. if you want to re-live haegeum yoongi, this is it.
@seokbite â two recs because i cannot choose, well they have an amazing masterlist, check out yourself baby. Bad Boyfriend is toxic!jk and it's 5k of tension. Proceed With Care is yoongi + miscommunication + faking it. tbh, i love everything about their blog, their username, fics, basically everything. I'm YoonKook girlie so i picked those two.
@raceme2hell â genuinely one of the most distinct voices i've found recently. Moldy Fucking Muffins is idol!jk + pop mart dolls + bffs to something and it is chaotic and soft. they also just dropped If you hear a cat at night which is shaman!jk, gothic romance, psychological horror, korean mythology â ongoing and fresh concept. love their blog too.
@kooksure â writing fic since last year thou, I'm Sure is idol!jk x dancer!reader, slow burn, set against are you sure?! and it is such a love letter to both jungkook and the art of movement. check out her masterlist.
@layover-mp7 â Like A Reflex is nerdy salaryman sub!tae x dom!reader and i can see this fic in every rec list, im yet to read myself albeit. barefaced tae with glasses. you're welcome. love them, such a sweetheart gave me whole list to read, i shall read asap and review them.
@ttabacco â Faux Colors is a Jk x a colorblind reader and Jk has synesthesia and i need everyone to understand how gorgeous this premise is. this one is on-going. they also have a Jimin one shot Busan Nights, filthy smut.
@vsthv â they write Taehyung and Namjoon and their masterlist is worth going through top to bottom. start with Escalated Conversations â namjoon x reader, strangers to lovers at a friend's bonfire, small artist!namjoon inspired by right place wrong person, and a reader who gets a pet peeve when people approach her yet somehow can't avoid him. thoughtful and intimate and a little unexpected.
@stalethoughts â Cool With You is fvckboy baseball player!jk x reader, fwb to lovers, ongoing. two people who haven't even admitted they like each other yet and that is the mark of a writer who knows exactly what they're doing with pacing and tension. one to watch.
@divakoo â Web of Kisses is spiderkook x depressed chubby reader and the tenderness of this premise alone will get you. your superhero boyfriend showing up not with grand speeches but with comfort, presence, and intimacy. check our their masterlist, they write member x member if you are interested.
@buzzyjoonie â Melt into You is downbad bf!jk x bratty gf!reader, football captain and top ranking nerd jungkook getting his patience tested in a library corner and deciding to study something else entirely. 2.3k of tooth rotting fluff with just enough light smut to make you smile into your pillow.
i hope you will enjoy these. i knew few new ones but i personally confirmed all of them asking, just for you. i enjoyed the process as well. I'm sorry, i couldn't find anything in Hobi :(
thank you so much cute anonie, ily. my small blog has nothing much to offer. esssshhhh, if you post ask next time, why don't you come with an emoji, i want to make friends too.
