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godoflobsters · 3 years

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The Brothers and Dateables With a Tattoo Artist MC

My own MC was a tattoo artist before she came to the Devildom, so I thought I’d write up some head cannons with a tattoo artist MC.

MC is gender neutral!

Mammon

Nobody can convince me that the “Brothers Under a Pact” squad wouldn't be the first ones to get tattoos from MC, and Mammon would definitely be the first

Definitely likes to brag about it too

Don't remind him that there are countless people in the human realm that you tattooed before him or he will pout

People tend to think that Mammon is cheap and would try to talk you into giving him free or cheap tattoos, but he couldn't stand to be like that towards you especially regarding something that you’re so good at

Our first man works his butt off every time he wants to get some new ink from you

Likes to give you a big ole tip every time

Gets fidgety when he has to sit still for too long so you two have to take breaks often

Prefers small/medium sized tattoos rather than really big ones

One time after he started getting tattoos from you, he was at a modeling gig and they tried to make him cover them up with makeup, he quit and that magazine went bankrupt not too long after...dont fuck with the avatar of greed

Once your shop starts taking off in the Devildom, he and Asmo try to convince you to do a shoot for Majolish(They definitely didn't pull some strings to get Majolish to do a whole segment about you and your business)

Beelzebub

The second brother to get a tattoo from MC

Refuses to get any food related tattoos: he doesn't want to accidentally take a chunk out of himself when he gets blinded by his hunger

This man has a very high pain tolerance and sits like a rock while you're tattooing him and you love him for it

He definitely needs snack breaks during longer sessions though

Has a memorial tattoo for Lillith over his heart that matches with one on Belphie

While making this list I was randomly blessed with the mental image of Beel with abuncha old school American traditional tattoos and you can pry that headcannon from my cold, dead hands

Mammon likes to brag that he has the most tattoos from you, but Beel might give him a run for his money, he doesn't mind Mammon’s bragging most of the time though, so he just lets him believe whatever he wants this time

Simeon

But Simeon has never been all that great at following the rules that they set for him

The first of the dateables to get a tattoo

He wasn't actually planning on getting a tattoo at first, but one day he overheard Luke trying to scold you for all of your tattoos(definitely before the incident with Beel and Lucifer in the underground tomb) and that was the only push he needed to jump on the “tattoos from MC” train

There is a lot of rhetoric in the Celestial Realm about how “Your body is a temple and you should not mark it”

He’s still not willing to stray too far from his roots though, so he’d probably get something with vaguely religious undertones

Absolutely delights in the shocked look on your face and the sheepish questions on whether angels are allowed to do this

Once he’s finally convinced you that you're not damning him to fall by tattooing him, the process goes by very easily

He is very easygoing and open regarding designs and he handles the pain very well

He absolutely loves to show his tattoo off, even when he goes home to the Celestial Realm and receives his reprimands from Michael

Leviathan

The third brother to get a tattoo from MC

Didn't want to get a tattoo at first, all of that physical contact and pain on top of it? No way

But then Mammon, Beel, and even Simeon all got one and he got jealous

You're HIS Henry, why are THEY the ones who get to wear your art? He might’ve been able to deal with his dumb brothers, but SIMEON TOO?

You gotta sit down with him and have a nice long chat about it, making sure this is something that he would actually want to do and not just his envy talking

Spoiler alert: It was definitely just his envy talking

He realises that he is actually oddly attached to the idea of getting a tattoo from you now though, so he comes up with designs and draws them on himself until he is certain that he won't regret it

Would get something tiny and probably gaming related

Definitely very squeamish about the pain aspect but the design that the two of you came up with is very simple and small, so he is able to make it through without fainting

He absolutely loves his new tattoo...but he is never doing that again

Belphegor

Fourth brother to get a tattoo

Has wanted to get one ever since Beel showed him the tattoo he got in memory of Lillith, but things were very...not good...between the two of you at that point

Finally worked up the courage to at least ask if you would be okay with it after the two of you made a pact

Beel, forgetting his super high pain tolerance, told him that it getting a tattoo doesn't hurt at all, so he was in for a big surprise when he went under the needle for the first time

Whiny at first, but he manages to stay very still for you

Has a memorial tattoo for Lilith over his heart that matches with one on Beel

Will definitely start to doze off during long sessions

Convinced Satan to get a matching Anti Lucifer League tattoo with him(definitely doesn't try to convince you to get one too)

Make sure that he does not, under any circumstances, actually fall asleep while you're tattooing him. He did once and he rolled over in his sleep, almost ruining an entire tattoo

Ever since that time, Beel has come with him to his sessions so you could focus on your work and he can focus on keeping Belphie awake

Satan

Gets his tattoo not long after Belphie

One of those people that think every tattoo needs to mean something so he takes forever trying to pick out something that he wants

Would probably get some sort of quote or design inspired by his favorite book, something that really resonated with who he is as a person

Was somehow convinced by Belphie to get an Anti Lucifer League tattoo

Does he regret it whenever he realizes that he now has a portion of his skin dedicated to Lucifer of all people? Possibly, but he definitely won't say anything about it to you

Loves to look at you and just admire your tattoos, asking the stories behind each and every one of them that he can see

He might be a bigger fan of literature than the fine arts, but that doesn't mean that he has any less of an appreciation for your work

Definitely pulls some strings and gets one of his friends who owns an art gallery to display some of your work there

Can set you up with all the connections that you need to make your mark on the Devildom art world

Lucifer

The last of the brothers to get a tattoo

In the beginning he has no intentions of getting a tattoo, he does have alot of respect for your talents and how hard you work for them though

As an art lover and artist himself, he will most certainly commission you from time to time and hang your work in his study

He won't admit it, but seeing your art and thinking of you when he's stressed with work is very soothing

He eventually decides to let you tattoo him only if it’s in a place that is easily covered by his clothes, considering how he dresses that leaves you with pretty much his entire body to work with

Sometimes when he has some time off he will grab a sketchbook and join you if he finds you in the common room working on a design, you share a comfortable silence, with the only sounds be the crackling of the fireplace and the scratching of pencils on paper

The kind of person that wants a tattoo but has no idea what he actually wants, but hes picky as fuck so he will turn down every single idea that you give him for weeks

He is lucky that you love him

Whenever you two talk about placements, if you mention anything on his back to cover up the scars from his wings he will almost back out entirely

Almost

Afew months later he’ll put his pride aside come back, admitting that your ideas would be perfect and that he wants to go through with it

During the session he has way too much pride to admit that he was feeling any pain

That is until you have to start going over the scars

As soon as the needles hit scar tissue he starts to fall apart; tears, shaking, the whole nine yards

It takes you quite a few sessions to finish since he cant handle such long sessions on that portion of his back

The summer after his new back piece is finished, he goes with you and his brothers back to Diavolo’s beach, this time he takes his shirt off in front of everyone for the first time since the fall

He wears your art with such pride that he lets everyone keep the memory, he even lets Asmo keep the pictures he took of all of them up on Devilgram

Diavolo

Wanted to be the first to get a tattoo but Barbatos said no

If you want to continue your career in the Devildom for the duration of your stay, he will buy you a building to work from and any supplies to get started since you had to leave your stuff in the human realm

Diavolo has rooms in the castle filled with the art that he's collected over the years, so when he sees that you're an artist he gets so excited

Before he finally gets tattooed by you, he buys a lot of your artwork and hangs it up around the castle

It takes a few years to propose the idea again to Barbatos in a way that wont make the butler’s hair fall out from stress, but he finally relented under one condition: it has to be in an area that is still hidden while he’s in his demon form

He decides that his legs would be the perfect place to indulge in your artistic talents while also keeping Barbatos’s controlling side at bay

Hes another one that knows he wants a tattoo but no clue what he wants to get

Unlike Lucifer though, he is a true open canvas

He truly adores your art so he wholeheartedly trusts you with his body and knows that he will love anything that you do for him

He knows that this is most likely very nerve wracking for you considering his position so he tries to reassure you and make the process very easy for you

You still put everything into designing him something fit for a king

He’s the type to prefer large pieces that span over entire sections of his body rather than abuncha small/medium sized ones

Another fidgetter, he’s really not all that accustomed to pain so he doesn't have a high tolerance for it

Likes to treat you to dinner at Ristorante Six after each of his sessions

Tips like the absolute king he is, you could probably pay a couple months of rent back at your apartment in the Human Realm just from his tip

Once his tattoo is finally finished and healed, he will find every excuse that he can think of to invite you and the brothers on outings to places where he is free from scrutiny to wear shorts and show off your artwork

Barbatos

The last of all of the boys to get a tattoo

It was a complete shock to everyone when he came to you and asked if he could make an appointment to get tattooed by you

“Everyone” being you, Diavolo, and Lucifer because nobody else knows that it happened and he would like to keep it that way

Another member of the “I’ll get one as long as it’s somewhere nobody will see” club...so basically not his face

Before the two of you get to talking about designs, you expect him to go with something small and simple, maybe an elegant little teapot or something along those lines

Then this man comes to his consultation and throws you for a loop talking about a sleeve

Very picky, he has high standards for himself and what's on his body

Knows exactly what he wants but does his best not to stifle your creativity during the design process

You learn ALOT about just who lurks behind Barbatos’s mild-mannered butler facade during his sessions, he’s surprisingly upfront and honest whenever you have him under the needle

Solomon

Can't get a tattoo

This man has pact marks for 72 demons all over his body, there is simply no more room

Any open space he has is being saved just in case any other demons *cough* Lucifer *cough* ever decide to come around to making a pact

Collects your flash and hangs it up around his room

If you take Diavolo up on his offer to set up a shop in the Devildom, he will make sure to tell all of his pact-mates about you, hype up your work, and get you a lot of business in the door

Sometimes he will commission art from you and use magic to make your art temporarily appear on his skin over the pact marks

Once you become a sorcerer and have a better grasp on your magic, he helps you experiment in creating magical inks and enchanting tattoos

Asmodeus

The only one that actually doesn't want to get a tattoo

He doesnt think that tattoos would fit in very well to the image that he has for himself

And not being able to show off every inch of his beautiful skin while its healing is a no from him

Since he likes to test out his new makeup and skincare products on you, sometimes after he has had his way with your face he will let you draw on him with skin safe markers

would definitely be a wimp about the pain

Will spam pictures to his Devilgram of his fancy new temporary tattoos and you drawing on him

Will definitely try to bring you some of his flings to get his name tattooed on them, you will have to reprimand him every single time and eventually he will stop

If you're not the type to keep up with social media, he’ll offer to keep up a Devilgram account for your shop

If you're ever attempting to draw and you have a very specific pose in your head that you can't find a reference for, he will not hesitate to get up and start posing for you

Luke

He is baby and cant have any tattoos until he's older

His mind frequently bounces back and forth between the whole “your body is a temple” rhetoric that he was taught growing up and “wow that's so cool!”

After Simeon got his tattoo Luke became a lot more enthusiastic and curious about your job though

Will occasionally ask if he can have one of your flash sheets so he can color your pictures

These very often end up on the fridge in Purgatory Hall

Sometimes they even make their way to the fridge in the House of Lamentation too

Will this make the brothers jealous? Yes. Do you care? No.

Luke loves you and looks up to you so much that he goes through a little phase of wanting to copy you, yourself and the entirety of Purgatory Hall can expect loads of temporary marker tattoos

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me solomon #I tried very hard to not show my blatant favoritism #mission failed #for the most part I didn't actually describe any tattoos so people can have their own interpretations #but if anybody is interested i have ideas on what everybody's would look like

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parkerslatte · 3 years

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Years Passed [Chapter One]

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Part Summary: After a decade of living in England, Y/N finally moves back to America to be closer to her family.

prologue / next chapter

Years Passed Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist

***

CHAPTER ONE: FAMILIAR FACES

Y/N was always one to follow her dreams. Originally her dream was to become an astronaut but she soon found that she wasn’t smart enough for that. That’s when she found herself falling down the route of art. Y/N had always been a gifted artist since she was a child. While everyone in her class was drawing stick figures and calling it a day, Y/N would take time to get the proportions of the body right. People would always say she was trying too hard or just trying to get attention. Y/N didn’t care - she was doing what she loved.

It wasn’t until high school where she began to take art more seriously, people would come to her to do art commissions. At first Y/N refused, she didn’t want to charge people for her art but once she realised how much she could make from it, doing art commissions became her job. Throughout high school it was her main source of income. However, it wasn’t until the end of high school where Y/N decided that art was the thing she definitely wanted to go down.

Opening up her own gallery became her dream. A couple of years after breaking up with Spencer Reid, Y/N moved to England. She didn’t exactly know why, all she knew was that she wanted a fresh start. Y/N moved into a small flat in Cornwall. It was perfect for what Y/N needed. She spent just over ten years of her life living in Cornwall and Y/N couldn’t be happier, however there were many instances where she missed her family. Y/N could never afford to constantly go between England and America and neither could her family. A lot of her time was spent on phone calls and video calls with her family.

It was only recently that Y/N moved back to America. Six months to be exact. After nearly eleven years of being away from her family constantly, Y/N decided to move back to America. She didn’t make the decision lightly, it took her many months to come to the conclusion. Y/N had many friends in England. She had her small art gallery. Most importantly, her daughter had her friends in England and her school - everything she had ever known.

Y/N’s daughter, Harper, was seven and she was the light of Y/N’s life. Everything she did was for Harper. Y/N didn’t want to pry Harper away from her home, but she wanted her to get to know her family. When Y/N told Harper the news, Harper was excited, she had always been a curious girl and moving to a new country was exciting for her.

“Mummy!” Harper yelled, running out of her room to Y/N who was sitting on the couch. Her daughter’s accent was a little messed up. Some words would come out in an American accent and some in a British accent - more specifically the Cornish dialect.

Y/N smiled upon seeing her daughter. As she ran, the wild curls on top of her head bounced up and down. Harper approached Y/N and climbed onto the couch next to her. Y/N wrapped her arm around her daughter and pulled her in close to her side.

“What’s got you so energetic?” Y/N questioned.

“Can we go to the park?” Harper asked, “You said that we could go today.”

Y/N checked the time on the clock on the wall, “You really want to go at ten in the morning? You don’t want to wait until midday then we can go out for lunch?”

“Can we go now? I’m bored.” Harper draped herself over Y/N’s lap dramatically.

Y/N shook her head, a smile on her face. Harper was definitely one for dramatics, something she inherited from her father.

“Okay, how about this?” Y/N started, “We wait until eleven and we can invite Melanie and Toby and we can go and get lunch with them?”

Harper nodded her head vigorously causing Y/N to chuckle slightly. The only reason as to why Y/N wanted to wait longer to go out was because she was waiting for Harper’s birthday present to turn up. It wasn’t her birthday for another three weeks but Y/N always wanted to leave time in case the package never turned up in case she needed to buy something else.

“Why don’t you go and play in your room and I’ll come and get you when it’s time to go?”

Harper nodded before running off to her bedroom down the hall. Checking the clock again, Y/N realised the package wouldn’t be here for another half hour. Deciding she had time to kill, Y/N made her way to her bedroom to get changed. If she was going to be out for most of the day, she decided that being in sweatpants and an old shirt wasn’t going to look so good.

Picking out a simple sundress, Y/N got changed in a flash before she found herself seated on the couch again. Over the last few days, Y/N had found herself being more tired than usual. Everything she did drained the life out of her, obviously she wanted to run around and play with Harper but she would tire out quickly. Harper would try not to get sad about it as she understood why Y/N got like this once a year. Y/N wasn’t going to explain it until Harper got a little older but she understood perfectly.

Grabbing her phone off of the coffee table, Y/N pressed on Melanie’s contact. Melanie had been Y/N’s friend for a while. They met a year before Y/N had moved to England, due to their long distance friendship, Y/N had expected that they would fall out of contact but they never did. Melanie was godmother to Harper and Y/N was godmother to Melanie’s son Toby.

The phone rang a few times before Melanie picked up.

“Hello?” Melanie’s voice came through the phone.

“Hey Mel!” Y/N greeted.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Well Harper and I are going to the park in an hour and I was wondering if you and Toby would like to join us?”

“We’d love to,” Melanie answered, “Toby’s been pulling my leg asking when he would see Harper next.”

Y/N chuckled, “We’ll meet you at the park if that’s alright.”

“That’s more than fine, we’ll see you then.” Melanie responded before hanging up the phone.

Y/N tossed her phone back on the couch and slumped back down. She could easily turn on the television and watch something but she didn’t feel up to it. Getting back up from the couch, Y/N headed over to Harper’s room and pushed it open. Her daughter was hunched over her small desk, scribbling away on a piece of paper. Y/N smiled at the sight. Her daughter had taken after her in artistic skill, always having the dream that one day she would be as good as her mother.

“Hey Harp.” Y/N said, entering her room.

“Mummy, look I’ve done a drawing!” Harper said excitedly holding up the picture, “It’s the same one you painted.”

Y/N took the drawing out of Harper’s hands and held it up. Y/N had painted a landscape of a forest a few weeks ago and Harper had copied it almost exactly. Every time Y/N would do a commission or a painting for fun, there would always be smaller versions of the same painting but made with colour pencil. Sometimes Harper would sit next to Y/N while she was painting and they would do it together.

Y/N always enjoyed doing art with Harper by her side. She would constantly ask questions about it and Y/N was always more than happy to answer. From sitting next to her and watching her paint, Harper had been teaching herself how to paint. Y/N would always offer to help her but Harper always refused the help, letting Y/N only watch from a distance. Their whole house was filled with paintings from both Y/N and Harper.

“It’s incredible, Harp.” Y/N said crouching down, “Even better than mine.”

“No it isn't, your one is better.” Harper said, “Yours are always better. I want to be like you when I grow up.”

Y/N pressed a kiss to the side of Harper’s head, “I don’t want you to be like me, I want you to be like you. You are going to grow up and be an extraordinary person, like you already are.”

Harper hugged Y/N tightly, “I love you mummy.”

“I love you too, sweet girl.” Y/N pressed a kiss to the side of her head once more before she heard the doorbell ring.

“Is that Melanie and Toby?” Harper questioned.

“No, it’s someone else, Mel and Toby are meeting us at the park,” Y/N explained, “Now why don’t you clean up in here before we head out.”

Harper nodded before she began clearing everything away. Y/N headed out of her room and opened the front door. Y/N expected it to be Harper’s present however she was greeted by two people - more specifically FBI agents. Y/N looked between the two, very obviously confused.

When Y/N looked up at the male agent, her eyes widened the slightest amount. His hair was curlier and he had a slight stubble. He looked as if he filled out his clothes more as well. Even if it had been more than a decade, she could recognise him anywhere.

Spencer Reid.

PERMANENT SPENCER REID TAGLIST

@spenxerslut @averyhotchner @drayshadow @moviequeen51 @spencer-reid-am-i-right @ssavanessa22 @amurderofcrowsinatrenchcoat @mbjackie @jklemps @reformedmoneyshovel @nomajdetective @jesuisbenny @jooniehomie @spencerreid-187 @onyourfingertips @uhuhuh @rubyhi208-42 @archer561 @c0rpsecore @sweetandsunny @zoeygraygubler @algonsa @jswessie187 @shemarmooresfedora @kaz-2y567 @alfonsais @aikrus @nani-2305 @death-becomes-her @sarejane @isabelle-558 @measure-in-pain @the-nerd-gang @manuosorioh @luredwithpretzels @ceeellewrites @totallyclearwitch @jekkles @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @sarahpaulsonlov3r @periwinklemax @kuolonsyoja @heartmira @hoodpankow @parahmur

SERIES TAGLIST

@its-9pm @nani-2305 @reidsfish @mochionly @spencerswildestdreams1 @magnetas @matthewscumslut @madsgraygubler @bakugouswh0r3 @rexit-mo @shinshankai

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid series

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s0ulm8s · 3 years

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boys like you (1.0)

✿ summary : alone and left in a mansion with nothing but your canvases and the dust slowly collecting on the window sills - a commission and a call from a childhood friend completely changes your life.

✿ genre : ot7 x f!reader, poly au, hybrid au, soulmate au, deer!seokjin, black panther!yoongi, great dane!hoseok, wolf!namjoon, calico cat!jimin, tiger!taehyung, bunny!jungkook

✿ warnings : mentions of death, maybe some mentions of assault, some fluff, reader is described as small (i.e smaller than jimin), slight age gap (reader is younger than jungkook)

✿ word count : 2.2K

✿ author’s note : i am inexperienced in hybrid aus, smut, and series so pls bare with me (not proofread yet)

✿ series masterlist! | 2.0

making yourself buckle down and work on the piece in front of you had proven to be more of a task than you had originally anticipated. the wide expanse of blank canvas you had stretched yourself 3 weeks ago, mocked you from the the sun room. it was only four days before you had to deliver your piece that you had really forced yourself to pick up a paint brush and do something useful.

the endless days spent alone in the vast building you now called home was doing a number on your psyche. the sheer loneliness seemed to eat away at not only your sanity but aided to your artist’s block - it was truly a gruesome cycle. locked away in an beautiful estate that you never asked for.

not only that, but working from home and having an all but nonexistent social life in a country you only permanently moved to a year prior was a fate worse than you had imagined.

you huffed, finally setting your small brush down on the easel, stepping back to assess your final draft. despite being so unmotivated and plum out of ideas, you were still proud of what you created - you had promised yourself long ago that you’d never sell a piece you abhorred, and you’d remained true to that promise thus far.

a blaring ring ripped you out of your critical trance trained on the landscape in front of you, startling you as your heartbeat quickened in pace.

“hello?” you answered, soft voice flowing through the other end as you anticipated the response from the unknown caller.

“yah! y/n! is that you?” the voice that responded was loud and excited, the baritone of it something you could never forget. a staple soundtrack from the summers you spent with your father in south korea.

“mingi? how’d you get my number?” you asked, a genuine smile flooding your face at the sound of his familiar laugh on the other end.

of course, the two of you had stayed in brief contact since meeting as children. but as you grew, you saw less of each other. three years ago he and his boyfriend, yunho, had successfully started their own rehabilitation and adoption center for hybrids. the first year was hard, but the business quickly gained popularity and as the creator - he’d been exceptionally busy since her permanent move to south korea. they had two permanent doctors on staff, kim hongjoong and park seonghwa, along with a 24 hour staff. the workers were really exceptional, but you had only ever met their core group when the business first started. which included: choi san, jung wooyoung, choi jongho, kang yeosang, the two doctors, and of course the two owners.

“you were commissioned by a friend of mine! which is actually why i wanted to reach out.” he answered happily as your breathing evened and heartbeat finally settled.

“it’s good to hear from you, really. what can i do for you?” you asked sweetly, and mingi only briefly thought about teasing you for your soft tone and giving nature.

“would you be able to come to the adoption wing today? i’m working here all day as we’ve some new hybrids ready to find a new home. maybe in about an hour? you could join me on my rounds and we could talk. i’d like to see you, anyways. i’ve missed you.” mingi spoke professionally, but his admission made tears prick at your eyes. he almost sounded like the sixteen year old boy who had stolen your first kiss when visiting your father that summer and the memory of when things were simpler stung in your chest. your cheeks flushed. mingi smiled at your silence, knowing he had flustered his best childhood friend. you narrowed your eyes briefly, as he had tried to convince you many times in the past to adopt a hybrid of your own - but you had declined, not entirely convinced that you could provide an exceptional life for another being. because even though your knowledge on hybrids wasn't nearly as advanced as mingi’s, you still knew the basics. they weren't just animals, they were human. and there was no guarantee there. there never was with humans. you hesitate.

“y-yes. i can come by, i’ve just got to swing by and deliver my painting beforehand.” you answered as you both agreed on the meeting the time. “oh, and mingi? i’ve missed you, too.” you said genuinely as he broke into a toothy smile. it had been ages since he’d seen you, and though he knew he could blame it on his work - he didn’t know how to face you after the death of your father. he couldn’t bring himself to be there for you, to see you so broken, and he had blamed himself for that everyday. it was a relief to hear you say it. you had always been so forgiving, sometimes to a fault.

after bidding your goodbyes to the tall boy on the other side of the phone, you quickly changed clothes into something not completely ruined by the muted pigments of your paint, loaded up in your small suv, and you were off.

the delivery of your piece went smoothly, no heckling or disapproving gazes from the wealthy couple, which made your trip to TWILIGHT that much faster. you pushed open the double doors connected to the building in the right wing, clearly labeled ADOPTION.

the smell of roses and lavender was strong in the reception area, the scent was welcoming and calming as you walked up to the front desk.

“y/n!” the dark haired boy behind the computer called, finally rolling away from behind the screen. kang yeosang. “it’s so good to see you!” he exclaimed, eyes scanning your face as he made his way around the counter and pulled you into a soft embrace.

“likewise, yeo! it’s been a while hasn't it?” you ask rhetorically as you stare up at his daunting height.

“mmm” he hummed with a nod, releasing you. “i'll let mingi know you’re here.” he called, returning to his place behind the sleek desk, paging mingi, and then proceeding to catch up with you.

the small conversation didn’t last long before a pair of heavy footsteps drug your gaze to the wide staircase, mingi barreling down them.

you braced yourself as the giant scooped you up into a bone crushing embrace, spinning your small frame around in a circle as he let out a happy laugh. your arms snaked around the man’s neck to secure your place and return the hug.

you giggled happily as mingi finally set you down in your original place, looking down at you excitedly. had he gotten taller? impossible. maybe you had shrunk?

after an exchange of excited greetings, mingi gestured to his clipboard before finally asking, “you ready?”

you nodded softly and followed close behind as he guided you down the halls of the adoption center. he gave you the rundown of their center, showing you the wide expanse of spotless rooms sealed in by plexiglass to show the hybrids ready to be rescued. he explained that most hybrids were separated by predator, prey, species, breed, etc. but many were grouped together with their respective packs. the rooms were quite lavish, but not very homey. but what could you expect from an adoption clinic? the point was to find homes.

you passed many show exhibits, watching intently at the small dogs or tall humans sitting in the rooms patiently, playing with one another or napping quietly. you cooed at a few.

“so i asked to see you because i’d love to have your art displayed in our business.” he propositioned, leading you into an empty room as the automatic doors opened and shut behind you. you nodded, heart lurching a bit as you recalled your artist’s block. you shook the thought away as you observed the room. it was large, littered with scattered pieces of nice furniture and random toys. “ideally, i’d love to have your pieces throughout the whole establishment but this is my main concern.” he finished, gesturing to the empty space on the large wall, the one you’re faced with when first entering.

“are you wanting a mural?” you ask, voice now stable and a bit louder.

“i'd like the piece to cover the majority of the wall, but i’d rather have it on canvas if that’s doable. in case it needs to be moved.” he explained as you nodded, taking in rough measurements of the space as mingi explained his vision for the space - effectively helping you circulate a few ideas on what you could create. you accepted his offer as he discussed payment and supplies with you, adding in an extra cost at the large measurement of the canvas you’d need custom made.

the air in the room grew a bit thick at the sound of a small beep, alerting the two of you to another door opening. your skin was now a bit hot and you suddenly became very aware of your surroundings. your fingers tingled a bit. usually a foreign feeling such as the one you were experiencing would send you into a panic, but it didn’t. if anything you felt quite calm as you looked on inquisitively at the distant thump coming toward the two of you.

“ah, it’s look like some of our hybrids are finished with their check ups.” mingi announced as you nodded lazily. he turned to you. “we usually send them into the lounge area for about an hour after routine check ups. helps them calm down.”

suddenly, you could pay no mind to mingi’s words as a black bunny rounded the corner, back foot slapping the tile exceptionally hard every so often as you smiled down at the creature happily. it stopped in it’s tracks as it’s gaze landed upon you, rearing up on it’s back legs, and tilting it’s head innocently as it examined you.

you knelt down to greet him, the bunny immediately approaching you and sniffing your hand before accepting you and nuzzling into you closer. mingi was taken aback as he observed the usually reserved and nervous rabbit.

“hello.” you cooed, stroking the bunny effortlessly, careful to avoid his ears and tail, briefly recalling how sensitive they could be. “what’s your name?” you asked as mingi coughed.

“this is jeongguk, he’s one of our younger hyrbrids. the youngest in his pack.” he told you as you picked the bunny up and set him into your small lap. mingi almost gasped at the interaction between you and the rabbit as you pet him happily.

your trance was interrupted at the light purr and brush of a small calico next to you. you instinctively reach out to pet him, as he rubbed into your hand. “and who might you be?”

“this is jimin, the two are in a pack.” mingi attempted to explain, trying to understand the absence of jimin’s usually protective behavior and unable to tell you the full story before you asked him something he was not expecting.

“and they’re ready to be adopted?” you asked softly, not even looking up at mingi as he stuttered. the idea of adopting a hybrid didn’t seem so far-fetched now at how taken you were with the two animals in your lap. you could handle the bunny and cat, without a doubt.

“y-yes but we only adopt out entire packs together and -”

“of course, i wouldn’t dream of separating them. is there anyway i could meet them properly, as soon as i possible i think -” you interrupt. starting to gush a bit, voice hushed and excitable.

mingi cut you off, “no, y/n. you aren’t listening. they aren’t just a pack of two.” he sighed, as your gaze finally met his. “in fact they aren’t just bunny and calico, they’re pack also includes that of a wolf, black panther, deer, great dane, and tiger... their pack has been hard to adopt out as it’s so rare for such a large mix of predators and prey... but they found each other and experienced a lot together... it was only inevitable. and we can’t separate them, we refuse to. and they won’t leave one another.” he finally finished explaining as your expression fell. you let out a breath. seven hybrids. all male. and three apex predators, at that. the thought of suddenly thrusting seven knew faces - seven new men - into your home was intimidating to say the least.

you looked down at the two animals in your lap, the bunny almost looked cresfallen. gauging your reaction as his big brown eyes stared at you expectantly. as if he knew you’d reject him. mingi continued rambling on about how many adopters had expressed interest in at least one of the pack but were never willing to bring in all seven. it hurt your heart as you watched on the bunny and calico.

the estate your father had left you was empty, though. begging to be occupied. you had more than enough room and were blessed with an untouched inheritance. maybe this is what you should use it for. you had always felt too guilty to spend it. but nothing seemed more right, which was a shocking realization to someone who never thought they’d adobt a hybrid.

“could i meet them? the seven of them? i’d at least want to give them a chance... truthfully, i dont think i can leave them behind.” you admitted softly, the bunny and cat both perked up, ears raised and twitching.

“of course. i can arrange a meeting and speak with them tonight... i’ll gather their files for you to take home tonight. can you make it back in again tomorrow?” mingi asked after a deafening pause of hesitation, mouth hanging agape before coming back into reality.

“i’ll be here.”

#bts fluff #bts #bts fanfic #hybrid #hybrid au #smut #bts smut #soulmate au #poly #poly bts #poly au #ot7 #bts ot7 #ot7 bts #bts drabble #bts imagines #bts icons #hybrid bts

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zu-is-here · 2 years

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Zuuuuuuu!!! Hi!!!!!! How have you been?!?! Omg you did the meme!!! Love how Dream is the blanket hog lol.

I've never seen this version of the lay out before actually, did you make the template yourself?

Love how they are in contact with eachother, makes it so much better aw

How's your weekend been?

How's work going?

Also how's your eye doing? Are you doing any better

Still can't get over my commission ah! Keep going back to look at it

Hii Gayfish!! <3 Awwwsome, thank you! (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)☆ YES I just found this among my drafts and decided to take a break finishing it heh, their relationship is def worth it ;3

Ah nono— I credited the original post with the template under the "read more" line (ówò) I found this one really sweet and easy to use! *^*

Thank uuu (〃ω〃) No boundaries for them anymore <3

The weekend's been busy yet grrreat! \(//∇//)\ I finally took part in that epoxy painting workshop (which I got for my birthday), it was magical ˚✧₊⁎ In a few days I can pick up the dried works and show you ♪ (Well, you can guess the colors I chose ;)

Aaand I just got back from my friend's birthday ٩( ᐛ )و♪ We had so much fun in the quest room! Have you ever been in one? It was based on Among Us, there was one imposter, and instead of killing, they were supposed to secretly switch the button while we were solving tasks. I caught them doing this in the second room (it was the birthday guy themselves heh) but decided to let them win and just looked at them every time we're alone like: :)

Work's been good as well! The other day I went to sign documents on new salary, it was raining heavily on my way but worth it xp And my eye is almost like new, thank you! <3 Only after such major incidents you begin to appreciate the details╰(*´︶`*)╯

Awww I'm really glad to hear you enjoy it! (*´꒳`*)

What about you? ♡ How's your weekend been?? How's it going with the work & drawing? *^*

UPD:

Oh it's alright! (ówò) Please don't force yourself if you feel sleepy now (it is really late :')) Have a nice rest (úwù)☆

It's actually really easy! *^* The only thing is the hardener (which is mixed with the resin), it's toxic & flammable and it's better not work with it at home x)

The mixture is poured into cups and mixed with pigments (paints), then you just pour them onto wooden coasters and that's where the fun begins! ☆

You can 1) tilt it and mix the colors; 2) paint by hand with a stick; 3) blow it with a hair dryer XD Each option is beautiful & interesting in its own way (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡

Purple is one of the four, bingo! (๑>◡<๑)★

WAIT you've been in an art club?? *0*

Ah right, escape rooms is the right name! It is worth trying *w* Ohhh I can tell you sometime about the horror escape room I've found myself in... x)

Hmm! Trapped? ☆ Sounds really similar, gotta look into this one *^*

No more indeed ;') A snow?! \(//∇//)\ YAY seems like that xp

Awww Gayfish! (ówò) That's amazing!! Did you like it there? Don't hesitate to trust your intuition ☆ I'm so happy for you, hopefully it'll turn out the best way for you ♡ Bonus for the free food xd

I feel you, I know how frightening and tiring it may be in such a large volume, but it can turn out to be even cooler, useful and interesting for you!╰(*´︶`*)╯Don't rush to choose and take your time, you know you can always change your mind (úwù)

Actually, I believe you can talk to @kotikaleo about this since she's a fulltime artist who's studying it professionally now! *^*

A dorm!! (*ﾟ∀ﾟ*) Roommates, parties, college life... ♪ Ohh I wish I was in your shoes to experience this ♡ The beginning of your adult life! ☆ Best of luck to you <3

And that's the main thing! (*´꒳`*) Nobody knows what will happen in a year or two, the only things that matter is what you do and love to do now ♡

Tbh I wasn't even ready going to work with news since my real specialization is a photojournalist (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) But the vacancies were quite different so I had to quickly adapt :D

Omg I shouldn't have written so long to delay you— I'm so glad you had such a productive day, please take your time with drawing and sleep well first!╰(*´︶`*)╯

#updated #ask #zu is happy

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gukyi · 4 years

Text

good luck charm | kth

summary: kim taehyung has nearly everything he’s ever dreamed of: an apartment in new york city, a lead role in an off-broadway play, and a best friend to share it with. but even still, there’s one thing missing—love. and when he goes on the hunt for it, he dots every i and crosses every t, leaves no stone unturned, but forgets to look at the person who could ever love him the most: you.

{friends to lovers!au, roommates!au, actor!au}

pairing: kim taehyung x female reader genre: fluff, angst, unrequited love word count: 11k a/n: a huge thank you to MK for commissioning me for this piece–i hope it’s everything you dreamed of!!!! these are tough times, but i hope this can serve as a distraction to everyone!! please stay safe and wash your hands! if you’re interested in commissioning me, check out this post! also, if the pictures are unclear, click on them for higher resolution!

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite customer.”

You see a tuft of purple hair sticking out behind a basket of orange pansies, two nimble hands with long fingers fiddling with the stems.

“I bet you say that to everyone,” you tease, as Namjoon peers out from where he’s hiding behind a shelf of flowers, greeting you with the same warm grin he always wears.

Namjoon pauses, gaze tilting upwards as he corrects himself, “my favorite customer who’s about to confess to her best friend of four years with a bouquet arranged by yours truly?”

You roll your eyes, thankful that there’s nobody else inside this little flower shop. Not that you seem to have an issue exposing your entire life story to certain strangers, especially if they’ve got dimples and colored hair to match. Namjoon has always been something of an exception—perhaps he is one of the closest friends you have here in the city, where everything moves so quickly you barely have time to say hello to a new acquaintance. Namjoon and his flower shop are a respite, a safe haven in a bustling world, where time always seems to move slower than it does outside.

“Don’t remind me, I’m sweating just thinking about it,” you tell him, trying to cover your nervousness with a laugh.

“Ah, well how could I forget, when you came to me to arrange the perfect bouquet for tonight?” Namjoon says. He chops a wilting flower from its stem and places it behind his ear. Even though it’s a little sadder, a little less lively than its comrades, the bright yellow of the primrose complements his hair nicely, making him look even more ethereal, magical, than he already does.

“Who else would I ask besides the best bouquet-maker in town?” You ask as Namjoon leads you to the counter, where various bouquets have been laid out in vases, ready for pick-up. It’s a secret garden here, all green and fresh and calm, a sharp contrast to the industrial machine outside.

Namjoon heads to the back, a room behind a little wooden door that’s the slightest bit too short for him, so he has to bend down to avoid hitting his head (he still hits his head rather frequently, though), as you breathe in the scents of the flowers surrounding you, the roses and the daisies and everything in between. It’s not much, but it does calm the thick beating of your heart ever so slightly, and that’s enough.

He emerges a minute or so later, banging his head on the way out. In his hands is one of the biggest bouquets you’ve ever laid eyes on, thick with some flowers you recognize but more you don’t. It’s breathtaking and gorgeous and impressive, all at once.

“Namjoon, you know that I didn’t ask for this many flowers,” you chide as he plops the bouquet down onto the counter, clicking away at the ancient cash register to his left.

“Consider it a good luck gift,” Namjoon tells you with a wink.

You sigh, pulling out your card to pay him. “I could use all of the luck I could get.” The likelihood of tonight going more right than wrong is miniscule. But what else can you do, besides try? “What do they all mean?”

“Well, the daffodils represent honesty and truth. The red carnations mean love, obviously. So do the chrysanthemums. The baby’s breath is just for decoration, but it also means everlasting love. The gardenias are for secret love. And the freesia is just because I thought it went well with the bouquet,” Namjoon says expertly, pointing to each one as he tells you what it means. “I don’t know if Taehyung’s super up with his flower meanings, but I think that even the gesture will say more than enough. But if he is, this is just a bonus.”

“I feel like it’s going to go really badly, is that wrong?” You say, the nerves overtaking you. You were hoping to just act calm and collected, thank Namjoon for the bouquet and be on with your lives, but even you can’t help but seek advice from him.

Namjoon lets out a laugh. “If you think it’s going to go so badly, why have you planned so much?” He poses. “It’s normal to be nervous about this sort of thing—what if I mess up, what if he doesn’t feel the same way, what if he rejects me—but I think that, deep down inside of you, there’s a part that thinks that it will all be worth it. And I don’t know, maybe I’m just a sucker for happy endings, but I think that that’s the most important. The part of you that doesn’t want to spend the rest of its life thinking about what might have been.” Namjoon’s phone lights up next to him, his lockscreen a picture of him and another boy, shorter, but with the same dyed hair. The two look so happy together. He gazes down at it, exhales, and shuts his phone off. “Just my two cents.”

“You’re wise beyond your years, Kim Namjoon,” you tell him with a smile. Maybe you are nervous about the what ifs, nervous that this whole thing could blow up in your face, but is it so naive of you to listen to that whisper in your heart? The one that says, maybe he feels the same? “I wish you’d take your own advice, sometimes.”

“It’s different,” Namjoon murmurs to himself. “He and I… this is all we’ll ever be.”

“You don’t know unless you try,” you tell him. You know the feeling. Perhaps, if tonight goes well, it will encourage him to give it a shot himself. “You never know.” Namjoon looks up at you, smile wide but eyes sad. There’s clearly something more that he isn’t mentioning, but you won’t push it. You get it. How could you not? “What if he does feel the same?”

The bell above the door rings on your way out, fingers clenching onto a bouquet, praying and wishing and dreaming that maybe this will all be worth it, in the end.

Something is up with Kim Taehyung.

When you return to your apartment, Kim Taehyung is slouched on your dinky loveseat, arm deep inside a six-month-old box of Frosted Flakes, as an episode of Jeopardy! plays on his laptop, his eyes empty and glazed over as he stares at Alex Trebek, wordless.

You nearly jump in shock, terrified that he’ll spot you and the enormous bouquet in your hands, terrified that he’ll ask you about it, terrified that your entire plan for tonight will get flushed down the toilet the moment you and him lock eyes. But it doesn’t, because Kim Taehyung doesn’t even acknowledge you when you walk in, for better or for worse, and you manage to stash the bouquet into a vase in your bedroom before rounding on your roommate, because something is up with Kim Taehyung.

Kim Taehyung hates Frosted Flakes. The only reason they’re in your apartment to begin with is because Jungkook had brought them over one time when he was visiting, and even then they were stale. Now they’re extra stale. So stale that they make a hollow sound on your countertop when you tap them against the laminate.

Kim Taehyung normally shuffles through Jeopardy! like it’s nobody’s business. He gets at least a quarter, if not half of the questions correct, and always earns more points than you. But he doesn’t even open his mouth when Alex Trebek says, “This Renaissance artist left Florence to serve as principal engineer for the Duke of Milan’s army” and you know that he knows it’s Leonardo Da Vinci.

Kim Taehyung normally has plenty to say, especially to Sawyer the Suspicious Floor Dip, who currently resides in your living room. Sawyer the Suspicious Floor Dip has been your honorary second roommate ever since the two of you moved into this apartment four months ago. Taehyung made him a little museum placard that is framed and hanging on the wall above him, and he has an account on every social media website under the sun. Sawyer the Suspicious Floor Dip has more followers on Instagram than you do. But today, both he and Sawyer are silent and unmoving.

“Tae?” You ask, treading over to the couch as he empties the box of Frosted Flakes into his stomach, finishing up the episode. “Is everything alright?”

“Mmrph,” he mumbles in response. You suppose that means he said fine, which means that no, everything is not alright.

“What’s going on? You’re normally really excited the day of your shows,” you ask. At least he hasn’t entirely turned into a soulless hermit, and he moves his legs off of the couch so you can sit beside him. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Taehyung says, louder. “I don’t know. I feel like it’s going to go really badly, is that wrong?”

You smile softly, shaking your head as you reach a hand out, letting it rest in his lap before he takes your hand in his. “No, it’s not. Tonight’s a big deal, isn’t it? You must be under a lot of pressure to do well.”

“I’m just so worried that I’ll fuck it up and everyone will hate me forever,” Taehyung says, exasperated. It’s almost as if he’s tired with himself for being so negative.

“You’re not gonna fuck it up and nobody is going to hate you. I’ll always love you, you know that,” you assure him.

“Yeah, I know,” Taehyung says, but the worst part is that you’re not sure if he really does.

“It’s okay to be nervous, and to worry. Tonight is really important. But you’re an incredible actor, and you’ve always been so good at what you do,” you tell him, thumb rubbing against the back of his hand softly. “I can’t tell you how proud I am of you.”

Taehyung lets his head rest on your own and the two of you sit together on the couch in silence, watching as the minutes on his laptop clock tick by. You can hear his heartbeat, steady and soft, firm underneath his chest. You wonder if he can hear yours. Hear how it’s picking up speed, hear how it beats only for him.

“You always know what to say,” Taehyung tells you. “I wish I knew how to do that.”

You grin sadly to yourself, happy that the two of you are side by side so he doesn’t have to see your face. How could Taehyung tell you something like that? How could he, when every time you’re near him, you’re speechless?

You never really considered yourself to be a theater person when you were younger. You would fall asleep when you went to see plays with your parents or on a school field trip. You never made an effort to go see the performances that your school put on. You were one-hundred percent confident that you would go through all four years of university without seeing one of the fifteen different theater groups’ shows, not because you hated them, but because they never crossed your mind in the first place.

And then, you met Kim Taehyung.

You met Kim Taehyung halfway through your freshman year because the two of you were in the same Cinematography in the 1900’s class. And then, suddenly, you were eating the same shitty food in the dining hall after class ended at seven in the evening. And then, suddenly, you were studying together, spending nights watching Jeopardy! on his laptop when you didn’t feel like doing any work. And then, suddenly, Kim Taehyung mentioned in passing one day that he had a show that Friday, and would you like to come, it would really mean a lot to him, he thinks you’ll really like it.

And then, suddenly, you were a theater person.

That night was the first night Kim Taehyung had ever taken your breath away. And every performance, every night, every fucking moment after that, he never stopped.

Tonight is no exception. You can’t say that you’re super well-versed in theater fame and its technicalities, but you think that this may just be Taehyung’s best performance yet. Here, in this theater off of Sixth Avenue, to a crowd of two, perhaps three hundred people, Taehyung is nothing short of amazing. He never is. From the moment he steps on stage in a raggedy old flannel and jeans, eyes wide with dreams, he reels you in and makes sure that you won’t leave this theater, won’t leave here unscathed. But the fatal blow is halfway through, when he finally spots you in the third row, sees you staring up at him in wonder, and he smiles.

There is so much that you wish you could tell him.

After the show, you race back to your apartment, desperate to finish up the last of the preparations before he arrives, after taking off all of his makeup and his costumes, saying goodbye to all of his co-stars. Normally, you’d hang around, let him introduce you, but tonight is different. Special.

[September 8th, 9:35PM]

You: Had to go home bc I’m planning a special something for the star of the night! Sorry I missed all of the fun afterwards You: Something very important to tell you

Taehyung: ohoho Taehyung: I wonder who that could be Taehyung: Coming soon. I have something to tell you too! ^^

You stare at the text as you grab the vase of flowers from your room, setting it up at your very unimpressive kitchen table. What could Taehyung possibly have to tell you? Other than perhaps a thanks for showing up (as if you weren’t going to).

What if, that voice whispers. The part deep in your heart, the one that you wish would shut up sometimes.

“No,” you say aloud, perhaps more for yourself than anyone else. “No. I have something to tell him. I have to tell him this.”

You never know, she says. He might. What are you waiting for?

You pull out all of the scented candles in the apartment, setting them up on the coffee table and on the windowsills. There’s a plate of macarons that you had purchased from the fancy bakery in Midtown sitting by the vase, a little treat for the two of you since your diets usually consist of premade Costco pasta and takeout.

There is so much you want to tell him. So much to say, and no way to do it. It seems impossible. As the minutes tick by, as he gets closer and closer, you wonder if you even have the courage to open your mouth. It’s not as if this is life-changing news. It would be so easy, so easy to just pretend that this is nothing but a celebration of Taehyung’s very first major off-Broadway show, to push down the ache in your heart and tell that voice to stay quiet, if only for a little longer. You’ve lived like this for so long already. Who’s to say you can’t live like this forever?

Taehyung comes home as you’re flicking through late-night television show reruns and fiddling with a Rubix cube, anything to keep your mind occupied and your fingers busy. You hear as he fumbles with the lock—his key has always been a little bit off—and scramble to get everything ready, shutting your laptop and putting the Rubix cube on your designated Weird Stuff Shelf. The apartment smells like a hodgepodge of vanilla, flowers, cinnamon, and champagne, and the flowers are already starting to wilt slightly. But it’s now or never, really.

Taehyung swings the door open with a grin and gasps in excitement when he sees you, standing in the hazy, flickering yellow light of the kitchen, surrounded by candles, with a plate of macarons and a vase of flowers on the table.

“Oh my God!” He says, overjoyed, high off of the adrenaline from a successful show, eyes still sparking from the spotlight. “Y/N! What is all of this?”

“Just a little something from me to you,” you say awkwardly. You have no idea how to tell him. You’re not sure if you even will. “To celebrate.”

“Dare I say, this apartment has never looked better,” he tells you, beaming. He walks over to where you’re hovering by the kitchen table, knee deep in it all, admiring the sight before him. He leans over you, ever so slightly, as he takes in the scent of the flowers, the macarons sitting before him. And then he turns to you, the glow from the candles making his eyes warm and caramel-y, almost as if they’re shimmering in the light, and he says, “You did all of this for me?”

“Of course,” you tell him, because you would do this again and again if it means you could see him like this. If you could watch him burst through the front door for the rest of your goddamn life, watch as he comes home to you. “Tonight’s special.”

“It wouldn’t be without you,” he tells you honestly, candidly. He tells you that because he means it. You wish you could say the same things to him. “You’re my best friend, Y/N.”

It’s now or never. If he takes one step closer, turns to look at you one more time, you don’t know if you’ll still have the courage. You don’t know if you even have it right now, but tomorrow, when you wake up, you don’t want to regret this night. You don’t want to wonder what if, what might have been. You’ve been friends for so long. Who’s to say you can’t be more than that?

“I have something to tell you,” you breathe out, words heavy on your tongue. You can feel your heart seize up, almost like it’s holding its breath with you.

“Right, you said that,” Taehyung says with a nod, stuffing a cherry macaron into his mouth. “I have something to tell you, too.”

“Do you want to go first?” You ask him. You just need a little more time. You just want to hear his voice once more.

“Okay,” Taehyung says happily. “I got a girlfriend!”

Oh.

Well.

Okay.

“Really?” You ask, trying to make it sound more like a Really? That’s great! and not a Really? I thought that we had something special. You don’t think that you’re doing a very good job.

“Yeah!” Taehyung says. He’s ecstatic. It tears your heart in two. “I mean, I know I’m just… a super, hopeless romantic and I fall in love with people when they hold the door open for me, but I’m really happy with her. It’s Ariel, actually, she played Lucy! Isn’t it funny how even though our characters never even officially met, we still found something there?”

“Yeah,” you say, emotionless. Taehyung is far too excited, far too joyous to notice.

“I just—I wanted to tell you, because you’re my best friend and you deserve to know,” he says, breaking off half of the raspberry macaron and holding it out to you. “What did you want to tell me? Did you say it was important?”

“Oh, uh…” you fumble, shaking your head at the macaron. Your stomach has never felt smaller. It’s like there’s nothing left to say to him. “I think I’m getting transferred to another office.” It’s not news. Your job told you that last week. But it’s something, and it’s better than being honest. Anything is, at this point. “They might pay a little more.”

“Yay!” Taehyung says. “That’s great! Now, maybe we can fix up the lights in the kitchen. So they don’t read horror movie every time I try to make pasta at 2AM. I’m happy for you, you deserve it!”

You smile, putting on a brave face, just for him. “Me too.” You can’t muster up the strength to say anything else.

Taehyung spends the rest of the night gobbling down the macarons and telling you all about Ariel, as you try desperately to tune him out. Even the sound of your own thoughts would be better than this. Anything. Anything. Eventually, after it’s long past midnight and Taehyung realizes he’ll need his sleep for the show tomorrow night, he bids you goodbye and sets off to his room, a bounce in his step.

You stand in the middle of your apartment. Even though it’s small, and even though you have him, it’s never felt emptier.

Namjoon always says that flowers don’t just need food and water to stay happy. They need love, they need to be surrounded by happiness. He says that they can feel it, that they react to it. That’s why he always tries to be happy when he’s working. Because he hates seeing the flowers so sad. He says they remind him of himself.

It’s no wonder why the flowers in the vase look even more wilted than before.

Here’s the thing: You had pretty much always known that it was going to hurt like this. There had always been that part of you, deep down inside, that knew that there was no way it wasn’t going to hurt like this. That knew that there was nothing you could do to stop it from hurting like this.

And still, foolishly so, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, telling him would make it stop. You gave into this fantasy that, even if he didn’t feel the same, even if he let you down easy, even if he told you that he just wanted to be friends, it would be better.

That’s the worst part of it all, really. The fact that you never even told him. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Didn’t. You never told him, and now, somehow, everything is even worse than before.

The flowers have long been thrown out by now, tossed out after hardly a week, unable to stand the tension in the air, the emptiness that lingered far beyond that night. Still, you remembered to keep one, plucking it from the vase before it died of secondary sadness. Because even if they hurt you, even if they tear at your heartstrings one by one, you’ve always had this terrible habit of never letting go of what you love. You pressed the flower with an old college textbook, placed it into a thin little vase, meant for one flower only. A red carnation, to remind you of what you could have had. What might have been.

Kim Taehyung is significantly less worried this time around as he prepares for the opening night of his latest play. He wakes up early and does some yoga in the living room, pushing all of the furniture to the walls so he has enough space to Downward Dog in peace. He watches a couple episodes of Jeopardy! as he eats the Pad Thai he Doordashed to your apartment, and gets half of the questions correct. Even from your bedroom, you can hear him talking to Sawyer.

“I’m excited for tonight, Sawyer,” he says to him. “I don’t know, last time I did Shakespeare was sophomore year in college, I think? I was Mercutio. It was fun and I got to use a sword. Y/N came to that show, too. I annoyed her so much that night that she told me that she was glad Tybalt killed me, but we had a good time anyway.”

Sawyer doesn’t say anything back, because he is a Suspicious Floor Dip in your living room. But it’s so lovely to hear Taehyung’s voice again.

“Do you think that Y/N’s been acting weird, lately?” Taehyung asks. “I just feel like—I feel like she and I aren’t as close these days. She works in her room a lot more and some days I don’t see her at all. Which is crazy, because we live together. My ex always said it was a little weird how I lived with my best friend who is also a girl. But I don’t think it is. Do you think I did something wrong?”

No, you wish you could say, leaning against your thin bedroom door as you hear Taehyung wonder aloud. Never, in a million years. It was me, you want to tell him. I got my hopes up and now I’m paying the price. It’s not you. It’s never you.

“Yeah, I guess she’s just busier these days,” Taehyung says with a sigh. “She did get transferred to that new office a couple of months ago. But she’s still my best friend. I’ll never stop telling her that—she deserves to know that no matter what, she always has me.”

“Sawyer the Suspicious Floor Therapist, huh?” You interrupt, finally getting the nerve to open your door. Taehyung’s on his way out, all dressed, backpack on his shoulder. He has to be at the theater a few hours before the show begins, anyway.

“He’s just so easy to talk to,” Taehyung jokes. “Did you… uh… did you hear that?”

“The part about being your best friend?” You ask with an eyebrow raise, making Taehyung smile. You don’t mention the other things you heard. You don’t think that would make things better.

(You’re not sure what will, at this point. Telling him is off the table. You distantly wonder if it was ever on the table to begin with.)

“Just making sure you knew,” Taehyung says with a grin. “Don’t want you forgetting about that.”

“How could I?” You muse, and it makes him smile something fierce and makes you wish that things were different.

“You’re coming tonight, right?” Taehyung says. He must know the answer, already.

“Of course I am,” you tell him. “Who do you take me for?”

“I’ll look for you in the crowd, okay?” Taehyung says, a hand on the doorknob as he gets ready to leave. “Keep an eye out for me. Promise?”

It’s always been so hard to say no to him.

“Promise,” you tell him.

That night, you sit a little further back, shadowed by the mezzanine above you, but Taehyung finds you anyway. As he schmoozes his way through the storyline on stage, he sends a wink your way, a couple of the girls in the row in front of you giggling to each other when he does. You sort of wish he was really winking at them. That way, it would hurt a little less.

Afterwards, you linger around in the lobby, waiting for him like you always have, like you always do, like you always will. You don’t have anything special waiting for him back at your apartment. There’s nothing left to tell him.

You spot his head of soft, wavy brown hair far before he spots you, can make it out in a sea of cast members as they cheer for themselves, celebrating another successful opening show. Your face lights up when you see him, when you see that he sees you. This is how it has always been. This is how it should be—you find each other in the crowd, grinning as you congratulate him, as he introduces you to his cast members and then invites you to the afterparty. You spend the night together, high off of the adrenaline and just a little tipsy, before stumbling back to your apartment, basking in the afterglow.

You want nothing more than for things to go back to the way they were.

And then, you see her.

“Y/N!” Taehyung shouts excitedly, and it takes all of your strength to not let your face fall as she comes into view, hand interlaced with Taehyung’s. “I knew you’d be here!”

“How could I not be?” You say, letting Taehyung wrap you in a one-armed hug rather than two. “You know me.”

“This is my girlfriend,” Taehyung introduces proudly, motioning to the pretty girl beside him as she waves at you good-naturedly. “Madison, this is my roommate and college best friend, Y/N.”

“Taehyung talks about you non-stop,” Madison says with a smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“All good things, I hope,” you say, because what else are you supposed to say to the love of your life’s new girlfriend? How else can you salvage this conversation when you already see it going terribly? “You both were really good tonight. I’m happy that I came.”

“Me too!” Taehyung grins. “Did you see me wink at you? I promised you I would.”

You nod, eyes desperately scanning the rest of the room, the rest of the people, the floor, anything to keep from watching as Madison drapes herself over Taehyung, intertwines their hands as she leans against him, like she can’t get enough of him.

“Hey, do you want to come to the afterparty? It’s at Alex’s house, apparently he has this brownstone in Brooklyn all to himself, I’ve heard it’s gorgeous—”

“No, actually, I have a lot of work that I need to catch up on,” you interrupt. You don’t think you’d last five minutes there, where the only person you know is Taehyung, where he’s got a girlfriend on his arm the entire time. You aren’t even sure how you’re faring now, if you’re even breathing, standing before him and his equally-gorgeous new partner.

You just wish everything could go back to normal.

Taehyung’s brows furrow, disappointed. “Oh, you do? But—”

“Yeah, I’m just—I’m really sorry, Tae, you know I want to. But I should get going. It was really nice meeting you, Madison, I hope we can see each other again sometime—” You spew out a few more goodbyes and even more apologies as you rush towards the exit, turning away so you don’t have to see Taehyung calling after you.

On the way back, you bump into Namjoon, who’s closing up shop for the day. He looks positively exhausted, always working diligently from morning to far past sunset every day, but he smiles when he sees you, setting aside his tired eyes to say hello.

“Hey, Y/N, fancy seeing you here,” he greets. “How are you? How’d it go?” He gives you a sort of grin that means that he thinks it went super well.

“Not great,” you tell him truthfully, because it’s late and you don’t feel like hiding things anymore.

“Oh,” Namjoon says. He opens his mouth to say something else, but you can see the hesitation in his eyes, the way he thinks that none of the things he has to say will go down very well. You know the feeling. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright,” you assure him, even though it’s not. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Isn’t it, though?” Namjoon asks solemnly.

You frown. “Do you really think we should both be having this conversation?” Namjoon has his own secrets, his dreams of a short boy with colored hair by his side. “You aren’t much better.”

“No, I’m not,” he muses to himself. “But it is a big deal, Y/N. Please don’t act like it isn’t. You love him, don’t you? Even if he doesn’t love you back.”

You love him.

It’s not a secret anymore.

You love him like the stars love the moon, surrounding her in their light, making sure she never gets lonely. You love him like an old Hollywood movie, film faded and worn, getting played once in a while to make sure you never forget where you started. You love him like a flower, carnations, daffodils, chrysanthemums, perking up when you’re around him and wilting when you’re not.

“It doesn’t matter,” you say with a sigh. Certainly, there are more important things to dwell on. You’re looking for a new job because being an office temp isn’t exactly what you were envisioning for your life. You want to start fixing up the bathroom, because the grout by the shower is starting to disintegrate. Sawyer the Suspicious Floor Dip is a fire hazard. “I’m okay with just being friends.”

Namjoon smiles, and it’s so sad, but not with pity. It’s sad with I know, and sad with feeling, because he gets it, and that must be why you’re here, standing on the sidewalk at ten on a Friday night, underneath the street lamps as the city begins to open its eyes. “But when you have him the way you do, how can you be okay with any of it?”

Taehyung comes home late that night, and you only know because you’re running to the bathroom at the same time he fumbles with the door. He takes longer than usual, which means he’s drunk, and you can only hope and pray that he’s alone. You watch as he finally manages to unlock the door, stumbling inside, managing to turn on the main overhead lights in your apartment as he does. From where you’re peering at him from the darkness of the hallway, you can make out dark red, purple spots all along his skin.

You pull the bathroom door almost shut, leaving it a little ajar so you can gaze out at him, watch as he pours himself a glass of water and downs the entire thing before he makes his way to the hallway, heading for his bedroom. From here, you see the way his hair is mussed, all fucked up from someone’s hands in it, see the marks up close, the way they line his neck, his jaw, his collarbones. He finds his way to his bedroom and shuts the door behind him as you stand, trapped in the bathroom, mad at him for not knowing but furious at yourself for being so ridiculous.

Love was never supposed to hurt like this.

The next time that you attend one of Taehyung’s opening nights, you don’t stick around long afterwards.

You were planning on it, of course, like you always do, because ever since college you’ve made a point to see him after a show, tell him all of the things you wish you could say to him all of the time, you were amazing, you were brilliant, you were perfect in every way. You even have a small bouquet of flowers in your hands, arranged by none other than Namjoon—a pity bouquet, an I hope that you two can still be friends bouquet—ready to give to him, ready to see them sitting on your kitchen table as a reminder.

And then, you see the way he kisses her, overcome with joy, running on that post-show high. You see the way he pulls her into him and plants one on her, arms wrapped around each other as they celebrate, in their own special way.

Suddenly, the flowers feel like dead weight in your hands.

You manage to catch one of the few co-stars of Taehyung’s that you recognize, one who was in Our Lives with him. His name is Seokjin, and he’s gorgeous. Broadway material. Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, Tony material. He stops to say hello to you, and you ask if he could give the bouquet to Taehyung, tell him it was from you.

Seokjin’s nice. He doesn’t ask why, he just nods. It saves you the trouble of telling him. Nobody wants to listen to your sob story. He says goodbye to you, and that he hopes to see you again soon. You hope so too.

You spend the night curled up in your room pretending that everything is fine. You don’t see Taehyung when he comes home, and you don’t see him the next day, either.

It’s not as if you’ve started to avoid Taehyung entirely. You live together—it would be downright impressive if you didn’t see each other for a whole day. It’s just, sometimes he still—

“Y/N? Wanna order Pad Thai?”

“Hey, Y/N, they’re playing The Devil Wears Prada on Freeform, do you want to come watch with me?”

“Central Park is having a Dog Festival, do you wanna go together?”

And sometimes, you just can’t. The thought of spending time with him makes your heart ache, whether it be from not wanting to be too close, or from missing him terribly. Either way, you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to muster up the same courage you once had.

Turning to look at the pressed carnation in the vase atop your dresser, you laugh to yourself. It’s hard to believe that just a few months ago you thought that you would finally be able to tell him, to open up your heart and let him look into it like a kaleidoscope. Hard to believe that there was once a time when you thought that maybe, just maybe, he loved you back. It feels like it was eons ago. Like it was another universe entirely.

You know that it’s not right for you to do this to Taehyung. He’s still your best friend. He always will be. He has no idea. He’ll never know.

But sometimes—

Sometimes he comes home love drunk, wasted on kisses, splotches of pink lip gloss decorating his skin.

Sometimes he spends dinner telling you all about the date he went on, the amazing vodka shrimp linguine he had, as the two of you eat Kirkland spaghetti in your dinky apartment.

Sometimes he tells you that you’re his best friend, and that he misses you.

Being in love with Taehyung had always been easy. It was being best friends, and making sure to keep the feelings a secret, that was hard.

Taehyung isn’t home tonight. You hadn’t asked him where he’d be. You didn’t think that it mattered.

And you tell yourself, over and over again, that it doesn’t matter. That you don’t need to know where he is every second of every day. He’s got a life outside of what exists in your stuffy apartment, a whole world of people craning to see him. He has reviews written about him in The New York Times and people lining up outside the theater for his autograph on their Playbill. There’s so much more to his life than what he has with you.

It’s better this way, you tell yourself, even if it’s not. Even if every time you step into your apartment, glance over at the vase on the kitchen table, you are reminded that it’s worse. Every time you see a damn carnation, daffodil, chrysanthemum, you can’t help but wish that things were different. You’re even starting to avoid Namjoon.

That night finds you at a small Italian restaurant in a tiny alley off of Ninth Street. You’ve never been, but it had good reviews on Yelp and you could do with spending some time alone, wallowing in your feelings somewhere other than your bedroom. You’re starting to feel suffocated just being there. It would be good for you to get out.

It would be good for you to get out, because the apartment reeks of what ifs, of what could have beens, and you can’t spend more than five minutes inside without throwing yourself your own personal pity party. You hardly see Taehyung nowadays because you can’t bear looking into his eyes anymore. Everything is awful, and you wish that it wasn’t, but you don’t know what to do to fix it.

But Fate seems to love doing that thing where it’s out to get you. From the moment you met Kim Taehyung, Fate decided that you would be her next target. That no moment with him would leave you unscathed. And tonight is no exception.

It’s just your luck that, ten minutes after you’re seated, the bell above the door rings to signal another customer, and you look up to see Taehyung and his girlfriend strolling in, glowing under the warm yellow light. You’ve never been more thankful, in that moment, to be seated right beside the bathroom, just out of sight of the booth that the hostess leads them to. It’s terrible, and it’s terrible, and it’s terrible. You watch as they order two glasses of a fancy rosé and giggle as they cheers to their show, to their lives, and to themselves. They spend the evening in the light of a single exposed bulb above their head, laughing and smiling and talking.

The craziest part is that once upon a time, that would have been you. You and Taehyung would have decided that the night was a restaurant day and not a stay-at-home-and-cook-meal day. You would have found a quaint little place on Yelp and gotten the cheapest food on the menu. Once upon a time, you looked like that.

[April 17th, 7:34PM]

Taehyung: [image sent] Taehyung: MMMMM look at this yummy yummy fish that I had tonight!! Taehyung: We should go here sometime!! I think you’d like it hehe

You look down at your plate. The food in front of you tastes like ash.

“Congrats,” you say when you hear Taehyung leaving his bedroom, feet padding against the hardwood floor as he makes his way to the kitchen.

“Huh?” Taehyung asks, eyes wide. It’s almost as if he’s surprised to see you out here, sitting on the couch, answering emails. Like he can’t believe you’re in your own home. You can’t blame him. “What are you talking about?”

“The review on The New York Times,” you tell him distantly, switching over to the tab on your computer where you read it. There’s a picture at the top of Taehyung and his co-star, front and center, holding hands as they look off into the distance, staring into an unknown future. “It’s your first five star review, isn’t it? They even listed it as the Critic’s Pick.”

“Oh, I… uh,” he begins, “I haven’t seen it yet. Been too busy.”

Bitterly, you wonder why. Even when you two are further apart than you have ever been, even when he spends all day out of the apartment and you spend all day inside, even when you barely fucking see each other, you can’t help but click on the articles that mention him, scroll through every review that mentions his name.

Things might be different now, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t be proud of him. Of what he does. Of who he is.

“Well, they said great things,” you tell him, sparing him the trouble of looking. “You deserve it.”

“You’re coming tonight, right? You have to, if the play is getting such good reviews,” Taehyung asks, an olive branch. You’ve spent so much time doing everything you can to keep your relationship as distant as possible, hiding in your bedroom and eating dinner at odd hours. But this is the one thing that you both can still hold onto. Taehyung’s shows, his performances, and you, in the audience, always finding his eyes. If everything else is in shambles, at least you will always have this. “I think you’d like it.”

“It sounds very Matrix-y.”

“Well,” Taehyung says, shrugging. “It sort of is. But it’s also about love. You’d like that, right?”

You suppose you’d like it a little more in another timeline.

Taehyung continues, barely giving himself time to catch his breath. “Basically, these two kids are playing this life-simulation game where every move they make directly corresponds with the actions of the characters they’re playing as. Cue me and Lancaster. And we meet, and slowly fall in love, over a series of chance encounters. You know, a coffee shop, the bank, a restaurant.”

“Really?” You ask, brows furrowed.

“Why?” Taehyung’s eyes widen in concern, smile downturned ever so slightly as he takes in your expression.

“I don’t know—” you begin. There’s just something about the storyline that rubs you the wrong way. “Maybe I’m just being cynical. But is it really possible for two people to find love like that? Through chance? Luck?”

Perhaps, Namjoon would say. You can hear his voice echoing in your head now. After all, wasn’t it luck that brought the two of you together?

You shake his thoughts away. Namjoon’s got his own set of problems—he’s in no position to be the wise one in this scenario.

Taehyung shrugs, as if he’d never given that a thought to begin with. “I don’t know,” he says. “I think that love can blossom anywhere. Just so long as you nurture it, water it and give it lots of sunlight. I just—I think that if you look hard enough, you can find love anywhere.”

You turn to face him, blinking up at him as you stare at each other, sitting on this damn couch in the middle of your apartment. Taehyung waxes poetic in front of you, tells you that if you just fucking look for love, you’ll find it. But he doesn’t know—and he never will. You’ve been looking for love for the past four years, you’ve been searching in all of the nooks and crannies of your body, and the only place you’ve ever found it has been in the deep pit of your heart, dusty and quiet and forgotten. Even now, staring into his eyes, scanning every bit of his irises for even a sliver of it, a spark, you come up empty.

How could he say something like that, when he lives with you? When he looks at you while you’re eating takeout or sitting and watching a movie together. Does he just not see it? Or worse—does he know, and just refuse to say anything?

Suddenly, your body turns cold. It’s hard to believe that someone as hopelessly romantic can’t see what’s right in front of him.

“I wish that was how it worked,” you say sourly, the words leaving a bitter taste on your tongue. You snatch your laptop from the table and head into your room, leaving Taehyung alone on the couch, speechless.

He may be the one with flowers blooming in his heart, but you have been drowning for the past four years, and never have you felt further from the surface than right now.

You don’t go to Taehyung’s opening show that night.

Taehyung leaves to get ready at the theater at three in the afternoon, and you bid him goodbye before holing yourself up in your bedroom and keeping yourself busy. You start watching the newest season of Stranger Things and tidy up the knick knacks you have scattered all over the place. Anything to keep your mind occupied.

Taehyung texts you during intermission.

[June 3rd, 8:55PM]

Taehyung: Hey are you here?

You don’t respond.

By ten at night, you end up with the cleanest room you’ve had in years and half of the season left to watch. It’s not a great kind of busy. The red carnation atop your dresser stares into your soul and you nearly throw it out three different times. But it’s an okay kind of busy, because you don’t know if you could have beared to see Taehyung on stage tonight. See him dancing around with a beautiful girl on his arm, confessing his love for her and pulling her in for a kiss.

Over the years, you have seen Taehyung kiss so many people. From the shy freshman boy cast next to him in a student-written play in college to the model-esque women on stage in an off-Broadway play with him. And it never used to hurt—not like this. You saw him lock lips with another and you supposed that that was just show business.

But it’s not show business anymore. It stopped being show business that night, when he came home to an apartment lit up with candles, the sweet scent of macarons wafting through the air, and told you he had found someone. It hasn’t been show business since, not when Taehyung is looking for love and finds it everywhere except where you wish he would look most.

Maybe you’re just being selfish. Taehyung doesn’t have to love you for you to love him. You knew that. You lived with that. He’s your best friend. He always will be. You can’t do anything to force him to love you back. You had always been fine with just being friends.

But just—knowing that he doesn’t feel the same. Having that certainty rooted deep within you. That’s the part that hurts the most.

Taehyung comes home earlier than he normally would on a day like this, catching you in the kitchen as you brew some chamomile tea, hoping that it will calm the waves that crash against the pier inside you. You turn to meet his eyes, and suddenly, you feel like you can’t see anything in them at all.

“Why didn’t you come tonight?” He demands. “I looked for you and you weren’t there. Where were you?”

“Here,” you tell him. “I was thinking maybe I would go tomorrow.”

“But you’re always at my opening show,” Taehyung says, like you don’t know that already. “Why didn’t you come? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t,” you tell him. You don’t think you’re drunk or tired enough for this conversation. At ten at night, you’re still cognizant, aware of what consequences this conversation might have when you wake up in the morning.

“Then why weren’t you there? You know I need you there,” Taehyung pleads, coming up to you as you stand in your kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil.

“No, I didn’t know that,” you tell him firmly. You went to his opening shows because it was tradition. Not because it was necessary.

“You’re my good luck charm, for god’s sake, Y/N,” Taehyung says, fists curled up at his sides. You can tell that he’s trying hard not to burst at the seams, like there are so many things he’s holding at the tip of his tongue. “I did such a shit job tonight without you there. I spent the entire first half of the show looking out into the crowd so much that Lancaster asked me if I had taken anything before we started.”

“That’s not my fault,” you tell him. “I didn’t know that you thought I was your good luck charm, or whatever.” And, because you’re bitter and petty and heartbroken, you add, “I would have thought that would be something your girlfriend is.”

Taehyung loses it. “What’s been going on with you, Y/N? Why are you being like this? Ever since my first show, I feel like we’re drifting further and further apart. You never want to spend time with me, you never want to come to my afterparties, you barely spare a glance at my girlfriends when I introduce them to you, and now, you’ve stopped coming to my shows. All of these things that I thought that we shared, ever since college. Tell me, Y/N, am I doing something wrong? Is there something that I’ve missed? Because it feels like we’re fucking strangers.”

The water finishes boiling, the kettle whistling on the stovetop as steam billows from the spout. “I’m not obligated to do any of those things, Taehyung,” you tell him harshly. “Just because we did them in college doesn’t mean I have to keep doing them now. What, did you think we’d still be doing that sort of stuff when we’re thirty? Forty, fifty? They were just college traditions.”

“‘College traditions’?” Taehyung asks, astounded. “Were all of those nights that we spent together just college traditions, too? Are we not allowed to do those things anymore? I miss you, Y/N. I hate not having you around and tonight was the worst it’s ever been. I don’t know what to do or say, I don’t know how to fix this, I don’t even fucking know what’s broken.”

“I just need space, Taehyung,” you tell him, hands gripping the edge of the countertop as you stare at the laminate, eyes tracing the lines to keep you from meeting his own. “I just need some time to myself, that’s all.”

“But why, Y/N?” Taehyung pleads, He reaches over to grab your hand, holds it in between the two of you like a lifeline.

“‘Why?’” You echo angrily. “You don’t know? You can’t tell? We’ve known each other for four years and you haven’t realized?” You tug your hand from his grasp. It’s clear you’re beating a dead horse. You wonder why you even tried in the first place. How naive you were, standing in the kitchen surrounded by scented candles and flowers and macarons, dreaming of a life with him by your side. Foolish.

“Realized what?”

“That I’m in love with you!” You shout, and the world goes silent. The kettle stops whistling, the water having evaporated into nothing, the packet of chamomile tea left, forgotten on the countertop. You stand there, breaths heavy, chest heaving, as you look at Taehyung, angry and mad and in love, all at once.

“You’re what?”

“Don’t make me say it again,” you hiss. “I already know that you don’t feel the same.”

“Y/N, wait—”

“Goodnight, Taehyung.” You turn on your heels, storming into your bedroom and collapsing against the door. Finally, finally, finally, you let the tears wrack your body, sending shivers down your spine. There’s salt on your tongue and smudged liner beneath your eyes.

You thought pressing flowers makes them last forever. But even the red carnation is starting to shrivel.

Subject Title: New Project????

From Park, Seojoon, to me

Hi Taehyung,

You did a great job last night in Chance Card! Really proud of you for accomplishing so much. Pretty soon you’ll be on Broadway and be too big for a small manager like me. You’ll need an agent, and a publicist, and a stylist, and a dog-walker…

Anyway, just emailing to let you know that Hugo Cleveland reached out to me to see if you were interested in auditioning for his next play. He personally wanted to see if you liked the part, and would give you preference if you did want to audition. It’s called Cupid, and it’s another one of those modern-day retellings of an old tale. I thought you might like it. Attached is the script and a short description of the play. Let me know if you’d like to give it a shot! I think this might be the project that gets you onto Broadway!!

As always, contact me if you need anything at all.

Park

Taehyung, still in bed despite it being nearly noon, taps around on his phone, pulling up the description of the play. He hates reading PDFs on his phone, so he’ll check out the script on his laptop later.

Cupid by Hugo Cleveland

Cupid chronicles the tale of the world’s most well known hopeless romantic—Cupid himself. Set in a world of magical realism, Cupid has the power to make two people fall in love with a single shot of his arrow, and spends his life walking around the city of New York, bow and arrow by his side.

The only problem is that Cupid has no way to make people fall in love with him, because his magic operates under the assumption of soulmates—a single person meant for another. And as the years have gone by, he has searched and searched and searched over millennia, desperate to find love, but it’s almost as if everyone has soulmates except for him.

Little does he know, he need look no further to find the person he shall spend the rest of his life with—not when his best friend has always been by his side.

Taehyung glares at the description like it’s personally offended him. He knows that it’s just a coincidence that he happens to receive this email the morning after his fight with you, but he can’t help but feel like God is playing the world’s worst practical joke on him.

Cursed with the memory of an actor, he replays last night in his head over and over and over again, looping the feed back and forth as your words echo in his mind.

You don’t know? You can’t tell? We’ve known each other for four years and you haven’t realized?

He never knew what he was supposed to be looking for. You were just friends, you had always been just friends. But then he looked out in the crowd and couldn’t see you anywhere, couldn’t make out your eyes even in a sea of hundreds like he always does, and it felt like there was more than just another audience member missing. He spent the rest of the evening getting his hopes up, thinking that maybe you’re just sitting somewhere else, maybe you put in colored contacts, maybe you’re hidden by some really buff guy in front of you.

He missed you, last night. He’s been missing you a lot recently, missing the way the days you spent together would bleed into nights. Missing the way you wrap your arms around him and smother him in cuddles, missing the way you always remember his takeout order for the fifteen different restaurants you frequent. Missing the way he once thought that you could spend your whole lives together.

Realized what?

He supposes that he has always been a bit foolish. All of his ex-girlfriends broke up with him, never the other way around. And while they all ended on good terms, they all said the same thing to him: it always seemed like his heart belonged to someone else. But he misread that, too. He just thought that he hadn’t found the right person, yet. He would keep searching until he did.

That I’m in love with you!

The craziest thing about it all is that your confession didn’t even shock him that much. After the initial surprise wore off, it was almost as if the dust settled around you, the storm finally calming. Like finding the last puzzle piece after thinking it had been lost for days. Like feeling everything click into place.

Taehyung has been thinking a lot about last night, but his least favorite part is always this:

I already know that you don’t feel the same.

He wishes that he could have told you. He wishes that he could have been strong enough, could have realized what he had before it slipped through his fingertips. Wishes that he could have reached out and grabbed onto you and never let go. There’s nothing more that he wants to do than see you again. You live in the same tiny New York apartment, and you’ve never felt further away from him.

Taehyung wills himself out of bed and washes his face, clearing away the leftover makeup and the sleep in his eyes. It’s a fresh start. It’s a new day.

He sees you standing in the kitchen, making that tea that you had left forgotten last night. He catches your eyes for just a second before he loses them again, watches as you turn your back to him in a desperate attempt to avoid contact.

“I got a new potential show to audition for,” he says loudly, breaking the silence.

“That’s cool,” you say, emotionless.

“Do you want to know what it’s about?”

You don’t respond. Taehyung takes this as a cue to continue.

“It’s about a boy on a search for love,” Taehyung begins, rallying himself despite only being able to see your back. “And he goes out and sees all of these people falling in love and wants that for himself. And he wonders why nothing is sticking, why he can’t seem to fall in love with anybody. And then he realizes that the reason he can’t seem to fall in love with anyone else is because he’s already found his person.” A pause. He’s just summarizing a story, but this feels like a confession. “His best friend.”

You turn around sharply, tea sloshing in the cup in your hand. Taehyung inhales, then exhales. It’s now or never. You’ve been friends for so long. Who’s to say you can’t be more than that?

“Don’t you think I’d play this part well?” He asks.

You shrug, closing your eyes and breathing heavy. He can tell that you’re holding something back, trying not to burst at the seams. “I’m not sure, Tae.”

“I think I would,” Taehyung tells you confidently. He takes a step closer to you, reaches over to take the cup of tea from your hands, placing it on the counter. “Because I’ve been doing it for so long, already.”

You gasp when he kisses you, a gust of air escaping your lips and immediately mixing with his, seize up at the feeling of his lips on yours. Immediately, Taehyung wonders if he’s overstepped a boundary, or two, or five, but then he feels you relax under his touch, feels you reach your hands up to cup his cheeks as you press against him insistently, drunk on the taste of his lips on your own.

Taehyung’s kissed a lot of people in his day, but this one is different. He’s felt sparks, seen fireworks, but with you, it’s as if he’s sinking into a warm bath after a cold day. As if he’s returning to an apartment filled with the things he loves after a long day out. As if he’s coming home.

All of these emotions, all of the little things tucked away in the corners of his soul, in the dark attic of his heart, come bubbling up to the surface, and all he can do is hope that you can feel them, swallow them up like wine, as you press your lips against his, grinning.

Finally, you pull yourself away, almost as if you think you’ll get drunk if you keep going.

“How long?” You ask.

Taehyung shrugs. “I don’t know. A while now, definitely.”

“Really?”

“I think so,” Taehyung says. “I guess that I was wrong, what I said before about looking for love. I looked everywhere, I wanted to see it in every spark that was set my way, but I forgot the most important place. I should have known.” You curl into his touch, resting your head against his chest as his arms wrap around your waist. “How about you?”

“Forever,” you breathe out. “It started and it never stopped.”

Taehyung beams. The flowerbud in his heart had been shuttered for so long, hardly watered and never in the sun. And then suddenly, the curtains opened up and the clouds began to cry, and everything blossomed. You make him feel like he’s always home. You make him feel safe.

You make him feel like a red carnation in bloom.

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

#taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts fluff #bts angst #bts scenario #v fluff #v angst #v scenario #taehyung scenario #bts imagine #taehyung imagine #v imagine #bts au #taehyung au #w: good luck charm #formatting this on tumblr was a BITCHHHHHHH

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thescreamingraven · 3 years

Text

Promise 2

Dabi x reader

Genre/warnings: Fluff and angst.

Words: 6 283

Summary: Sometimes the right choices are the toughest to make...

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Heyyy. Some people asked for part two so I hope you like it, as you can probably tell I'm pretty new at this whole writing thing and there is a lot of space for improvement, but I still hope you enjoyed nonetheless and I hope I didn't dissapoint. ^_^

≿————-　❈　————-≾

You woke up to a loud scream from your daughter, you automatically reached for your phone but before you could grab it your daughter snatched your arm and started pulling on it yelling. “Mommy, wake up.” She babbled loudly and way too close to your ear.

“Five more minutes.” You mumbled turning away from your daughter wanting to get even just a tad more sleep. She hopped onto the bed and layed next to you.

“But mommy…” She pouted.

Giving up, you lazily opened your eyes and pulled her in under the blankets into a tight hug.

“Good morning mamma.” She giggled.

“Morning angel, how d’you sleep?”

“Not very good…”

“Why’s that?” You wondered, giving her a quick kiss on her forehead.

“I had a nightmare about daddy…”

“You should’ve woken me up, sweetheart.” You chirped gently, brushing away a few strands of hair from her face.

“No, I’m a big girl now…. and the baby in your stomach needs to sleep too.”

You smiled, a warm smile decorating your face, how did you get so lucky…”Well, how about for being so brave I’ll give you a reward?” You sat up and stretched your arms. ”You can have anything you want for breakfast. We can even have some of your cake if you’d like.”

“No, daddy will be sad if we eat it, he’ll want to eat it too,” She declared.

“Alright, well, what do you want?”

“Could you maybe bake me some bacon?”

“Just bacon?”

“And ice cream.” She added.

“I don’t think that’s a… good combination. How about some pancakes?” You bargained.

“With bacon?”

“Sure.” You sighed, raising your hands in defeat. “You’re the birthday girl, after all, let me just…” You were about to stand up, but your daughter’s hands around your waist stopped you from doing so. “Sweetie I can’t move.”

You turned around to face her, cupping her cheeks and giving her gentle kisses on her forehead.

“Mommy?” She whispered, leaning into your warmth. “Where’s daddy?”

“Daddy needed to go to work for a bit, he’ll be back soon…”

You knew she hated when he left like this… without getting to say goodbye, you also knew that she saw him more than a parent, more like a best friend she can tell everything to, he was her hero but yet still managed to sometimes break her heart unintentionally just like now, you could see the light slowly fading away from her smile, so you decided to bring it back.

You gently tapped on her shoulder and whispered. ”Do you want to hear a secret?”

There it is, that excitement which was gone moments before, now plastering on your daughter’s face, you knew that you would do anything to keep her smiling like that forever, anything.

“But you can’t tell anyone, okay?”

”Okay.” She whispered back.

“Come closer…”

Your daughter nodded and scooched a little bit closer. With a swift movement, you began to tickle her without mercy. Her screams and laughter could probably be heard all across the neighborhood, but at that point, you didn’t care. After a few seconds, you stopped and pulled her into your tight embrace and cupped her cheeks once again. “There’s that smile…”

When your daughter’s giggles quieted down, you could feel the way she clung to you even harder than she did before.

“He’ll be back sweetie, trust me… and a little birdie told me that your dad has a very special surprise for you…”

You could just sense the puppy eyes coming your way.

”Nope, don’t even try it, your puppy eyes won’t work on me…”

“But mommy…”

“It’s pancake time c’mon get your little butt into the kitchen..” You chirped, getting out of your comfortable bed and stretching out your arms. You grabbed your phone off the counter and checked if there were any messages from Touya. You didn’t know what it was but when you checked the time you got a weird feeling in your stomach, so much for being here when I woke up you thought, putting your phone back on the counter wanting to get rid of that strange feeling you had.

⸻⸻⸻⸻

Nervously tapping on your kitchen counter, you checked your phone again and again. Yet the time didn’t change. It was seven pm, and you were getting a bit on edge about Dabi. You tried calling him, texting him, yet you got nothing back. Something was wrong, you could feel it. A few hours ago you turned on the morning news, the city yet again destroyed by the league who immediately disappeared after the assault. Yet there were no signs of Dabi. He wasn’t on the news that means he was either somewhere in hiding or-

“Mommy?” Your trail of thoughts was interrupted by your daughter’s weak voice and slight tugging of your hand.

“Yes, sweetie?”

You looked at your daughter, who was now staring at the ground, her small muffled sobs now becoming clearer.

”Did d-daddy… forget… my… b-birthday?” She stuttered, rubbing her eyes, trying to stop the tears from coming.

You could feel your heart shatter.

“No, no, sweetie he didn’t, he’s probably on his way home now.” You cooed, picked her up, and cradled her in your arms. “Hey, it’s okay…”

“D-did I do so-something wrong…? Did he not like my drawing?” She sniffled, clinging to you for dear life.

“No, of course not… angel-” You were interrupted by two quiet knocks outside your door.

“That’s probably your dad right now…” You sat her down on the kitchen counter, and flounced to the door, ready to give him a piece of your mind, yet you didn’t open it. Since when did Touya start to knock…? You instead peeked through the peephole and almost felt your heart stop. You took a second to think while the second pair of knocks came your way, the lights were on, so there was no way you could hide from the two men standing outside, you looked back at your daughter who was still sitting on the kitchen counter wiping her tears.

“Angel, listen to me… can you please go to your room for a bit?”

“Why? Is it daddy?” She jumped off the counter and ran towards the door ready to open the door, but before she could, you grabbed her hand and forced her to look at you.

“No, sweetie it’s not daddy, There are some… people outside that mommy needs to talk to. Can you please go to your room?”

You could see a hint of fear appear in her eyes, but she nodded nonetheless

“Thank you, angel…” You murmured, giving her the most comforting look you can muster, you kissed her forehead and gestured her to go.

You threw Dabi’s jacket in a nearby closet, hiding it, and took a deep breath, the knocks becoming more consistent. “Just act natural and you’ll be fine.” You mumbled to yourself before opening the door.

⸻⸻⸻⸻

“Y/n?”

“Hello Hawks, Endeavor.” You greeted both heroes standing at your doorstep, you took a quick glance at Hawk’s whose face of confusion quickly turned into a bright smile.

“Wow Y/n, how long has it been?” He grinned, pulling you into a tight hug. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever…”

“Yeah, it’s been quite a long time…” You smiled into his jacket. “How’s the hero business?”

“It’s alright,” He chirped, pulling away. “ But I’d rather hear about you, how are you doing?”

“I’m doing alright… do you want to come in?” You asked, trying to avoid Endeavor’s intense gaze. Both men looked at each other for a moment before giving you a quick nod. Endeavor closed the door, looking around before spotting something in a nearby closet that was still slightly cracked open.

“So what brings you here so far from the city, and at my doorstep?”

“Oh well, we were just…. patrolling and I heard you lived here, so I thought I’d stop by…hope you don’t mind,”

“Not at all please make yourselves at home” There was no way they’d be patrolling so far away from the city with all the villains about, something’s not right you thought, trying to keep a cool and rationalized head.

“Do you live alone?” Endeavor questioned, quickly taking his eyes from the closet and stepping next to Hawks.

“Yeah… Why do you-”

Your question was cut off by Hawks gushing. “Ooh, what’s that smell?”

“I was baking a cake for my… niece, her birthday is coming up.”

Hawks looked at your daughter’s drawings which were splattered all across the fridge, “I see…cute drawings your nieces work, I take it.”

“Yeah, she’s quiete the artist.” You chuckled. ”Anyway, how’s life?”

”Eh… same old same old, the commission has been on my ass a lot more since you… left.” Hawks admitted throwing a sad smile your way. You knew he was going to bring that up… due to working with Hawks you became good friends quickly, leading you to work for him in his agency, yet that didn’t last long.

“Yeah, sorry about that…everything just happened so suddenly.” You sighed.

”Yeah I get it…”

“Sorry to interrupt, but could I get your ID?” Endeavor requested.

“What for?”

“Just… protocol I’d like to ask you a few questions if you don’t mind.” He remarked.

You gave him a sceptical look.“Is this an interrogation?” You asked, cocking your eyebrows.

“No, we’d just like to ask you a few questions,”

”About what exactly? What’s going on?”

“Y/n it’s okay the old man is just paranoid, just get the ID so he can calm down and not have a heart attack.” Hawks teased.

“Alright…” You hesitated before walking to your room, the two men watching you as you disappeared out of their sight, Hawks came closer to Endeavor. “You sure you didn’t get the address wrong?“

“No, I don’t make stupid mistakes like that.” Endeavor assured, eyeing your home once again. “So she was working for you?” He pondered, stepping closer to the closet.

“Yeah, she was my sidekick for sometime before dropping her carrier… you can’t possibly believe she’s a villain, right?”

“She could be… look at this…” He opened the closet door and pulled out Dabis jacket for Hawks to see. ”Doesn’t this remind you of something?”

”That’s not evidenced enough maybe she bought it because she liked it.”

”Well, what about those drawings? There’s a figure that looks similar to him.” He replied, checking the jacket’s pockets.

“Maybe the kid just saw it on the news. You know how they are… they’ll draw anything they see.” Hawks mumbled, scraching his head.

Throwing the jacket back into the closet and closing its door, he mouthed. “Something is going on here Hawks and I’m not leaving before I find out what…” Endeavor concluded.

”Or maybe you’re just trying to find something that isn’t there… “ Hawks said, rubbing his temples.

“What do you mean?”

“Endeavor… your son is a sociopath… for all we know he could have been babbling nonsense.”

“You weren’t there, Hawks.” He murmured.

“You might think you know your son but you don’t, he’s-”

Their conversation was interrupted by a sound of the door opening and you appearing in the room.

“Sorry that I took so long, I’m a very messy person…” You looked up at the men who had different emotions plastered on their faces, you quickly took a glance at the closet who was now fully closed. “Is everything alright here?”

“Everything’s fine, miss…” Looking at your ID, Endeavor added. ”L/n”

”So…” You leaned on your kitchen counter, trying to act as calm as possible. “What’d you like to talk about?”

Hawks gave Endeavor a suggestive look and blurted. “I think we should-”

”Take a seat, miss.” Endeavor gestured to your kitchen’s chair before taking a seat to one across, once you did he continued. ”Now miss L/n…”

”Just call me Y/n the whole last name thing makes me feel uncomfortable.” You asserted.

“Right sorry miss Y/n, like I said before, this isn’t an interrogation more of a… personal matter and I’d appreciate it if you could answer my questions honestly.”

”Endeavor…” Hawks hissed.

”Okay, sure, but what is this about?”

”Do you know a villain called Dabi?” Endeavor questioned thoroughly examining your face for any signs of discomfort.

”Of course I do, everyone does… why?”

”We have a reason to think you might know him more personally.” Endeavor moved a little closer, trying to break you with the pressure of the situation.

”I’m not following…”

”Look… you’re not in trouble, whatever you say will stay between us. So please just answer my question…”

“I know of him…” You countered.

You could feel yourself begging to panic. They know don’t they… shit. You took a second to think and remarked.

”I- I… I think I should go and call my lawyer…”

“Y/n…” But before Endeavor could say anything he was interrupted by a sudden muffled sound... like a cry of anger, then another on the back of it: then silence..

”I thought you said you were-” And then came one horrid, dawn long scream. Without thinking, you rushed to your daughter’s room, almost ripping off the door handle. Her room was being consumed by flames, blue flames, her flames, while she stood there frozen in the middle of all the chaos, with a horrified expression, holding up her hands and letting out another terrifying scream. The fire began to spread massively as you grabbed your daughter’s burning hands, not caring if you’ll get burned, and began running towards the exit, the blue flames following not too close behind. When Endeavor and Hawks saw what was happening, they quickly reacted by opening the exit door and grabbing you both when you ran through it, putting some needed distance from the burning house.

Once you were both safe, you kneeled close to your daughter and frantically searched for any injuries while she cried her eyes out. “Are you okay? Angel look at me… are you hurt?”

“I-I’m… so s-sorry mommy.” She choked.

You let yourself breathe for a moment before pulling her into a tight hug while hiding your burnt hand away. ”It’s okay, we’re okay,” You cooed, trying to calm her down, while slowly massaging her back. “Just breathe for me, alright?”

“Cmon, sweetie, look at me…” You slightly pulled away, raising her chin and breathing with her. “And out there ya go.” You wiped her tears away from her red and puffy face. “In and out.”

The two heroes stood quietly next to you observing you, that didn’t matter to you now all that matters was your daughter “Now I need you to explain what happened…?”

”I’m sorry, mommy. I got mad and… and-”

”It’s okay, it’s just a house I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Pulling away from you, she looked you straight in the eyes. ”What about the cake mommy?” You couldn’t help but giggle slightly while the adrenaline still kept pumping in your veins. ”I’ll bake you another one.”

Her eyes suddenly began to lose focus and her body became heavier. ”Angel?” You could feel yourself beginning to panic.

”She just got overwhelmed by her quirk” Endeavor comforted. “She just needs to rest now.”

You gave him a small nod, picking up your daughter and turning back to face your house, which was still being consumed by the blue flames. All the memories, being burned away, you were mad… you weren’t mad at your daughter for not being able to control her newfound quirk; you were at Dabi he was supposed to be here for this, not out on some dumb mission. You winced when you began to feel a sharp sting in one of your hands, the hand you grabbed her with but you held it in, you weren’t important at the moment. You thought about taiking your phone out of your pocket and mentally cursed yourself for leaving it on the kitchen counter early.

Endeavor saw how you checked your pockets and beganning slightly shaking.”You can stay at my place if you’d like…” Endeavor suggested, coming closer to you and your daughter, giving you an understanding look.

“I don’t th-”

”Let me help you… the both of you…” He inclined.

You knew your choices were limited and even if you wanted to; you don’t think he would’ve let you go run off with a child in your hands so… you gave in. “Okay…”

You could hear the sirens getting closer and closer. Endeavor looked at Hawks, who caught the hint easily. “I’ll handle it, you two have a lot of things to talk about anyway…” Hawks sighed, turning away from you.

You could tell he understood the situation perfectly and wasn’t happy about it.

“Hawks…I’m sorry…”

”We’ll talk later.” He mumbled.

⸻⸻⸻⸻

You followed Endeavor back to his car, which wasn’t parked too far. You gently sat your daughter in the backseat, putting the seatbelt on. Before you pulled away, she grabbed your hand and murmured something. “Mommy?”

”It’s okay, honey, go back to sleep.” You quietly cooed, giving her a quick kiss on her cheek.

”Don’t tell daddy… please… he’ll get mad” She whispered before succumbing to her slumber once again. You sighed and closed the car’s door. While driving past your house you saw the firefighters trying to save anything for what was left, while Hawks talked to one of the fire chiefs.

You took a deep breath, turning around to check on your daughter. She was peacefully sleeping, letting out a couple of snores. That’s one way to celebrate a birthday, you thought while pulling out your burnt hand in which the pain was becoming a bit irritating.

“There are some bandages in the glove compartment,”

“Oh…” You looked at him and mumbling a thank you. You opened up the glove compartment and found the bandages, wrapping them around the burnt flesh of your arm and ripping away the rest when you were done.

The road ahead was going to be long, since you lifted quiet a few hours from the main city, and sitting there in silence wouldn’t do the both of you any good. So you decided to start the conversation, but before you could, he spoke first.

“She reminds me of Touya when he was younger… he almost set our house on fire once too….of course, we stopped him… before it got worse but our neighbors complained for weeks-” He took a glance at you and stopped talking, he could see that you were worried, he could almost hear your thoughts going a hundred miles a minute.

”He’s alive Y/n.”

You raised your eyes from the car’s floor and looked at him. ”How do you know that?”

“Today our fight got a little intense and my youngest son… Shoto accidentally impaled him with his ice quirk.”

Impaled…?

”Will he-”

”He’s fine now, he had to go under an operation but he made it… he’s alive and well Y/n”

You could just sense the but coming, not wanting to overthink the situation further, you straight up asked him. “But?”

“He’s in a coma, not deep one the doctors say he’ll wake up in a few days or so.”

“I see… thank you.”

You looked at him for a minute and in those dim street lights you finally saw him for what he truly was; you didn’t see the man Touya once told you about; you didn’t see the big number one hero everybody relied on to keep them safe; you saw a tired, broken man. The small dark circles under his eyes became clearer, the look on his face plastered with guilt.

After a few minutes of silence, he spoke again.

“He was the one who told me how to find you.”

“Why did you? You had the choice to walk away, yet you still showed up. Why is that?” You wandered.

“I’m not sure, I just did,”

You looked back at your daughter once more, gathering up the courage to ask the question which was spinning in your head nonstop; you turned around and let your gaze fall on the road ahead.

“Will you… will you take her away? Give her to someone else?”

He sighed and chuckled lightly.

“As a hero, that probably would be the right thing to do,” He said, tapping on the wheel lightly. “But I think I’ve done enough damage to this family as it is…I think I should be a father for once…think I own him that much and more, I want to do right by him. It’s my fault he became like this, I was too focused on-” He didn’t dare finish the sentence instead changing the topic to something more lighthearted.

“Can’t believe I have a grandchild already… it won’t be too long before my hair starts falling out,”

“Two…” You corrected him.

“Two?” One glance at your stomach told him everything he needed to know. “Well, you guys have been busy..” He responded jokingly. He glanced at your daughter for a second through his rearview mirror “What’s her name?”

“D/n,”

He thought for a moment that responded, “I like it…”

“I’m glad.” You chirped, giving him a heartfelt smile. “Touya picked it out.”

“So…” He cleared his throat. “A former hero and a villain that must have been one hell of a story.”

“That it was.”

“Well, we have time… care to share?” He proposed.

When you finally arrived at Endeavor’s household, Hawks was already standing there with a smirk on his face. “Took you guys long enough.”

You rolled your eyes, opening the back door, slowly tapping your daughter’s shoulder. “D/n wake up.”

She slowly opened her eyes, yawning and stretching her arms up. “Where are we?”

“You’re at my house” Endeavor responded, still sitting in the driver’s seat.

Your daughter looked at him clearly confused, “Do you know him, mommy?” Your daughter pondered, pointing at Endeavor.

”I do, sunshine he’s…” You stopped for a moment, giving Endeavor a quick glance. “Your grandfather…”

Your daughter was quiet for a moment before bursting out the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. ”Really?”

Endeavor gave you a side glance, feeling a bit astonished that you would tell your daughter the truth so quickly, but extended his hand for a handshake, nonetheless. “Yeah. It’s nice to meet you D/n. Please make yourself at home.”

He didn’t even have the time to object by how fastly your daughter pulled him out of the car, dragging him closer to the house and talking his ear off. Yet for some reason he couldn’t muster the courage to pull away, letting himself be led by your daughter quietly listening to her.

You walked over to Hawks, whose smirk was wearing off and turning into something else.

“Well, I’m off.” He blurted. But before he could leave, you grabbed his arm, stopping him from leaving. ”Wait… can we talk?”

“Y/n…”

“Please?”

He gave you a hesitant nod and turned around to face you.

“Are you mad?”

He was quiet for a few seconds, but you knew by the look of his face he was soon going to explode and that it was certainly overdue.

”Well, what do you think? Y/n I thought…” He sighed. “I thought we were closer than this…. how did you think I felt when you just suddenly left,” He scoffed? “You were my closest friend, and you didn’t even give me a proper goodbye nor an explanation and when I began calling, you blocked me and didn’t even tell me where you were going or when you were going to come back,”

“One text…a single fucking text… that would’ve been enough for me…. just to know that you were okay, that you were safe but no…. silence for eight fucking years.”

“And now I learn that you’re together with that… sociopath. How stupid can you be?” He jeered.

“Hawks-”

”He’s a murderer Y/n he kills people for a living.” He walked closer to you, looking at your stomach. “How did that- this even happen?”

“Fuck.”He began to pace around “Why? Just why?” He stopped for a second, gently grabbing both of your arms a look of fear showing on his face. “Did he force himself on you?”

”What?”

“Did Dabi-”

You pulled away and calmly explained. ”No, he didn’t. look… me and him… we were together even before I became your sidekick we’ve known each other for a very long time and when I found out I was… pregnant, I just decided to focus on the baby rather than my career that’s why I left.”

You looked at Hawks who’s expression told you everything you needed to know, confusion, anger, sadness, and much more.

“You’ll be lucky if Endeavor doesn’t call the-”

”I’m not concerned about him… I’m more concerned about you…” You retorted.

He stopped pacing and looked you dead in the eye. “Y/n… can you really stand here and tell me that girl is safe living with him?” He questioned.

“Yes, she’s-”

”He’s unstable Y/n one day he can act all father like and the next he’ll-”

”Don’t…” You interrupted him “Look I know you’re looking out for me and you’re worried but trust me he loves-”

”Listen to me… don’t you think that if he really loved you, he would’ve dropped the villain business already? All he cares about is revenge can’t you see that?” He snapped.

Taking a deep breath and trying to compose himself, he looked back at your stomach, then back at you. “Your kids shouldn’t be worried about when their screw-up of a father would be back home. They should be enjoying their life to the fullest, going to an actual school, making friends… Look, I can help, I can pull some strings here and there but Dabi…Y/n he has to go.”

“So what? I should just leave? Hawks… I love him… He’s the father of my children. I won’t just abandon him without a word. I’ll talk to him once he wakes up, maybe he’ll-”

“Y/n…” He looked at you, seeing your determined face, he knew he couldn’t convince you otherwise, so he just sighed. “Do what you want… just remember he isn’t your primary concern, he can decide for himself, but your kids…they can’t. They need you to guide them and teach them how to make the right choices and… sometimes the right choices are the toughest to make.”

You stood there quietly, not knowing what to say before he spoke again.

“I’ll be going now, I have some paperwork I have to fill out.”

“Hawks…”

Before he flew off, he took one last look at you and said, “If you change your mind, give me a call.”

That was a week ago. You and Endeavor or Enji grew closer together. You will never forget the conversation you two had the first night you came to the Todoroki residence.

“I feel like such a failure,” you sighed. “I wasn’t even prepared for her quick to- and... I couldn’t even do anything for her… and the whole villainy thing-”

”Have you ever… you know, asked him to quit?”

You thought for a second. ”No… I haven’t…”

”Well, why not?” He wondered.

“I just never bothered, I guess? Always thought he’d… ”

Leave…

Enji could see the regret in your eyes and fear. ”Well, why not try it? Don’t let Hawks mess with your head… in truth nor me nor Hawks know Touya as you do, but from what you’ve told me, I feel like he truly… cares for you. I mean, even when he was on the brink of death, he was thinking about how to get back to you….Talk to him before you decide what you want to do.”

“And I don’t think you’re a failure, both of them,” He gestured to your stomach. “Are lucky to have you as their mother. So don’t take what Hawks said to heart, he might still be holding a little grudge about how you both left things.”

You smiled calmy slowly pushing all the over thought thoughts away. “Thank you, Endeavor.”

”Enji.” He corrected.

”Thank you… Enji for saying that.”

“You should go get some rest and tomorrow we can both visit Touya if you’d like.”

“Yeah, I’d like that, but I’m not sure about D/n… seeing him like this wouldn’t do her any good.” You looked at your little daughter who was now sleeping knocked out on the couch.

“I’ll ask Fuyumi to babysit her,”

”Yeah that be nice...”

Fuyumi came over the next day, slightly confused about her father’s sudden call in the middle of the night, more confused why a little girl who resembled Touya was standing in his residence with a woman claiming to be Touya’s lover. After some needed explanation on both sides, your daughter became very close with her newfound cousin and slowly wrapped her around her finger...

After a few days, Enji started to train your daughter on how to use her quirk. She was a little bit scared at first, but now she loved it and nagged Enji to show her new tricks. You loved the way he managed to replace the fear and hatred that you saw in your daughter’s eyes that night with happiness and excitement for her quirk. Once, after a long and tiring patrol, you caught Enji sleeping with your daughter on the couch. You couldn’t help yourself but take a picture for Touya to see later.

Speaking of Touya…he still wasn’t waking up, it’s been almost two weeks since that night, and yet, nothing, no progress. You visited every day sitting in that room for hours on end, talking to him and telling him everything that had happened recently, but after those terrible weeks of holding everything in for your daughter and your baby you finally broke down next to his hospital bed. You gently took his hand, squeezing tightly for comfort. “Hey Touya, it’s me again…” You sniffled, trying to not let your emotions get the better of you.

“It’s uh, been two weeks now… D/n… she’s getting better with her quirk.” Swallowing a lump, you cooed. “But she misses you, like a lot… she’s talking about you nonstop to…” You took a long, deep breath. “Endeavor… he’s been…” You looked at Touya, whose face stayed the same. You stayed quiet for a minute, the silence slowly driving you insane, you could faintly hear the receptionist clock ticking, second by second, minute by minute… and then you broke down.

“Dammit… that’s enough… this has gone long enough I won’t have it and not another day more do you hear me? I’ve done everything… I’ve waited, I’ve prayed… I’ve talked to you… I begged you, I’m out of things to do now…and I’m scared, I’m so scared,” Wiping the tears off your face you sobbed. “And I’m mad… I don’t mean to be, but I am… I’m mad at everything… I’m mad at you…. you hear me, Frankenstein? I need you to open your eyes and scold me for being such a crybaby.” You whispered, still not letting go of his hand.

“Your family has been so sweet, they uh been trying to take care of me, take care of us, trying to get me to eat something, to lie down, and your dad,” You massaged his knuckles. “He’s been training our little angel all about her quirk, he’s so gentle with her I wish you could see it… and Fuyumi she’s completely under her spell, she follows her everywhere, they do everything together.”

“D/n has been dreaming a lot about you lately.. and telling everyone how good you are, you mean the world to her, and me…so I need you-” You let your head fall to rest at his side. ”I need you to open your eyes,…just do it… open them…hear my voice? Come towards my voice…”

“Squeeze my hand.” You whispered. “Please…”

You quickly sat up when you felt a faint squeeze of your hand. Not believing it, you asked again. “Do it again,” Again a light little squeeze, a weak one, but it was there, he was there. “I felt that...’’ You blubbered, wiping away the last bit of tears. ”Open your eyes, I know you hear me… c’mon…” You could see his eyelashes flutter slightly before he slowly began to open his eyes.

”Oh my god… Touya..” You could see that he was still a bit out of it, and the way he slightly whimpered told you that he was in pain.

You quickly got up and rushed to the door, opening it and calling for a nurse.

You could see the surprised look on their faces before they began to move and appeared right on his side. Dabi quickly sat up from the bed with a still cloudy mind and got ready to use his quirk before you rushed to his side, trying to calm down.

“Hey don’t panic you’re alright, easy… lay back down you’re safe, we’re in a hospital, you got hurt in a fight and… do you remember that?”

He gave you a brief nod, before messaging his forehead to tone down the headache.

“You’ve been asleep for a few days…But you’re alright now… “

The nurses quickly did a few checkups on Dabi and told you that he was alright and left the two of you alone to talk.

”See, they’re all done, and I’m right here…” You cooed once again taking his hand and squeezing it.

”You look like shit doll.” He murmured with a groggy voice.

“Speak for yourself, you idiot…” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Are the meds kicking in yet?”

“Mhm.” He looked around the room. “Where’s D/n?” You could see the slight panic in his eyes.

“She’s okay, she’s with Endeavor.” You comforted.

”Endeavor? Why is she with that old asshole?” He mumbled, trying to sit up.

”Well-”

He however stopped in his tracks and grabbed your hand, turning it and looking at your burnt hand, which was now decorated by a scar. ”Did that fucker-”

“No, no calm down let me explain…” You said with a small panicky voice.

It didn’t take you that long to explain what happened, there wasn’t a lot to tell, you could feel Dabi squeezing your hand when you talked about your daughter’s little adventure, but besides that, he was taking it surprisingly calmly, ”She burned the whole house down.” He repeated. “I don’t know if I should feel proud or terrified.” He joked.

”Yeah” You sighed.

Dabi thought for a second before giving your hand one last squeeze and hesitantly asking. ”Think you can call her for me?”

“Sure, but hey… don’t beat yourself up too much alright?.” You cooed, getting your phone out and calling Endeavor.

He picked up after a few seconds and you asked him for D/n; it took a few minutes before he actually found her and gave her the phone. You quickly gave it to Dabi.

”Hi mommy.” She chirped.

Dabi cleared his throat, trying not to scare his daughter too much.“Hey sunshine, happy late birthday.”

”Daddy…” She whispered, before bursting into tears.

”Hey it’s okay…” Dabi mumbled trying to calm her down.” How have you been?”

You could hear her sobbing.

“Aw, angel, don’t cry it’s okay, I’m okay,”

”I’ve m-missed… you s-so much…” She bawled.

”Me too… I missed you too..” He answered with a controlled smile plastered on his face. After a few seconds, he pulled away from the phone holding it in his hands, a tad confused “She hung up on me.” He blurted.

”She probably got too excited.” You chuckled.

He gave you your phone back pulling you onto the bed with him, after a few seconds you received a text..”It’s Endeavor…he says they’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

You slowly turned around to face him, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. Dabi looked at you with a teasing smile.“My lips are feeling left out doll.”

He leaned into a kiss, but before he could pull you in, you placed your hand on his lips, stopping him from doing so. He looked at you confused. You pulled away, getting off the bed and taking a seat in the same chair you sat only moments ago. Dabi was surprised by your sudden mood change. One minute you’re here resting in his arms, and the next you’re so far away.

”What’s wrong?”

You looked at him with a sad smile decorating your face and sighed. “I can’t do this anymore, Touya. I…I hate this... I was so scared that you would-“ You took a deep breath in. ”I never wanted it to come to this but… I can’t do this anymore and I’m drawing the line”

“Listen to me… don’t you think that if he really loved you, he would’ve dropped the villain business already? All he cares about is revenge can’t you see that?”

”What are you trying to say?”

“Do what you want… just remember he isn’t your primary concern, he can decide for himself,”

With a serious tone and fire in your eyes, you looked him and with a collected tone you said., “Quit the league or…. I’ll go… and... I’ll take the kids with me.”

"Sometimes the right choices are the toughest to make.”

“You can’t do that.” He stated, a hint of fear shining in his eyes.

”I can and I will, enough is enough Touya… let it go... we can start a new life together, a fresh start… somewhere away from all of this insanity, we can go anywhere you like, we can even take on new names and live entirely different life together, a life where our kids can have both of their parents;

”Y/n…”

You stood up and walked towards the door. You stopped in front of it and looked back. ”I’m giving you a choice Touya, please pick the right one. For me…for us…” You mumbled, opening and closing the door, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

@beybladesmaid

#dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x female reader #bnha dabi #my hero academia x reader #bnha fluff #bnha angst #mha x reader #mha angst #mha fluff #mha dabi

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purrincess-chat · 3 years

Text

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH28

What does Chloe have in store for Marinette? Find out next week! As I stated on AO3, once I post chapter 30, I’m going to take another month off to let my betas finish up the last few chapters, then in October if we are all finished, I will be posting two chapters a week on Mondays and Fridays to finish this story out. It’s been a long journey rewriting it, but I’m much happier with the outcome this time. I hope you’re all excited to see the rest of the changes to this story. I know I can’t wait to share them!

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Chapter 28: End Game

Morning light streamed through the window, casting golden rays across Marinette’s cheeks. The urgent screech of her alarm blared on the shelf above her head, vibrating the loft in its tantrum. She blinked, then immediately squeezed her eyes shut again, sitting up out of the sun. Kicking the blankets from around her legs, she palmed for her phone, clumsily tapping the screen with a yawn. Sleep had eluded her most of the night for more reasons than one, and the previous day’s events replayed on loop as she slogged through her morning routine.

Had all of it really happened? The museum, her old friends, the akuma, Emerald Shell, Lila… And she’d gone to Chloe of all people for help. When had she fallen so low? And how long did Marinette have to be on this rollercoaster? Wasn’t there an emergency exit she could use?

She splashed water on her face, leaning against the sink with a sigh. Not all of it was bad at least. She and Adrien got to spend the evening together, though the sweetness diminished as a result of the afternoon’s events. Even still, there were worse ways to end a trying day than being spoon-fed chocolate mousse by the boy of her dreams.

Marinette stared at her reflection, droplets dripping from her chin like the countless tears she’d cried the past month. So much had changed since she left. Her face still looked the same, but the girl inside was different than the one who walked out of Francoise-Dupont a month ago. Her eyes carried a new determination.

Lila had gone too far, and Marinette wasn’t going to stand for it anymore. Starting today, everything was going to change.

“Marinette! You’re going to be late for school!” her mother called up the stairs.

Marinette dried her face and slipped on her blazer.

“Coming!”

Things were normal at school. People were buzzing about the latest akuma and the appearance of Emerald Shell. Martin held his head a little higher, though his cheeks never lost their rosy hue, especially when Macy gushed about how Emerald Shell saved her. It wasn’t until art class that they realized Marinette was being unusually quiet.

“How did things go with Adrien?” Eliott asked, looking up from the fruit bowl they were all painting.

“Adrien was fine,” Marinette said. “It was Lila I had to worry about.”

“Still?” Macy winced. “What happened?”

“It’s a long story…” Marinette sighed, wiping her brush on a rag.

“We’ve got a whole hour.” Martin pointed out, and they all looked at Marinette expectantly.

Marinette smiled, reassured by their eagerness. They really were the best friends in the world. She took a deep breath before diving in, and her friends listened to every detail intently.

“Whoa, she really did that to you?” Lisette asked when she finished. “And I thought Gabrielle was awful.”

“Lila is an attention-seeking manipulator, and she crushes anyone who gets in her way,” Marinette said bitterly. “I hate to drag you guys into this—mostly because I barely want to be dragged into this—but-”

“Oh, we’ll totally help,” Macy said. “If there’s one thing rich people love to do it’s brag about our accomplishments and make other people look inferior.”

“I can text around and try to set up a hangout with Prince Ali next time he passes through Paris.” Eliott offered.

“My dad’s in a group that plays tennis with a few ambassadors. I’m sure he could help us set up a youth program to push a Go Green effort here in Paris.” Martin added.

“Sometimes I babysit for the president’s niece, so I could see about getting her deported,” Lisette said with a cheery grin, and everyone turned to her with horrified expressions. “I’m kidding, but it’s an option.”

“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re kicking awful people out of the country.” Eliott nuzzled her cheek with his nose.

“Anything you need, Marinette, we’ve got your back,” Macy said, placing a hand over hers. “We’re behind you all the way.”

Marinette pulled her in for a hug, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. Even though she regretted running from her problems, Marinette didn’t regret meeting her new friends. They helped her when she needed it most, and for that, she would always be grateful. With these people by her side, Lila wasn’t going to know what hit her.

♪♫♪ This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things ♪♫♪

Marinette paced the length of the living room a week later, chewing her nails. The awards show had finally arrived, and Clara would be walking the red carpet in one of Marinette’s original designs. It was the biggest moment of her life, and she couldn’t sit still.

Her mom smiled, setting the cake she’d just finished decorating on the table. “Everything is going to be fine, dear. Your designs were wonderful, and Clara loved them.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean all of the famous fashion critics are going to. People talk about award show outfits for weeks, mom! If everyone hates Clara’s dress, I’m going to be front-page news for worst-dressed all month!” Marinette groaned.

“There’s no way anyone will hate your designs. My daughter has all the talent in the world!” Her father scooped her up, planting a kiss on her cheek.

The doorbell rang, and Marinette rushed to answer it.

“Congratulations!” Her friends cheered.

Macy pulled her in for a tight hug. “I can’t wait to see which design Clara picked! They were all so good.”

“I can’t believe Clara picked you over Gabriel Agreste. You are so lucky, Marinette,” Lisette said.

“She’s amazingly talented. My father didn’t stand a chance,” Adrien said with a laugh. He presented a bouquet of roses with a shy smile. “Congratulations, mon ange.”

Marinette stretched up to kiss his cheek. Taking his hand, she ushered everyone inside where they didn’t hesitate to make themselves at home. Eliott and Martin moved for the snacks while Macy and Lisette settled on the couch. Marinette’s mother reached for a vase on the top shelf, stretching up on her toes.

“Let me.” Adrien stepped in and grabbed it with ease.

“Thank you, dear. Marinette picked such a sweet boyfriend.” Her mother beamed. “She used to talk about you so much. Every day, she’d come home from school and tell us all about how green your eyes are and-”

“Mom!” Marinette shot her a silencing look.

“I’m flattered. Marinette is a wonderful girl. You and Mr. Dupain must be really proud that a celebrity like Clara commissioned her,” Adrien replied smoothly. He shot Marinette a wink when her mom changed the subject. Why was he so perfect?

“Ooo! It’s starting!” Macy squealed.

Marinette and Adrien squeezed onto the couch next to Macy and Eliott. She leaned her head on his shoulder, twining their fingers together. Having her friends around eased some of her nerves, but her heartbeat escalated every time someone new moved to the front of the line.

“How long until we get to see your dress?” her dad asked.

“I don’t know. The red carpet doesn’t really have a set schedule.” Marinette shrugged.

“Okay, we’ll just wait,” he said, trying to seem nonchalant, though his impatience showed each time he shifted or cleared his throat.

Marinette chewed her nails as other artists and celebrities made their appearances, leg bouncing until Eliott reached over to stop it. She flashed him a sheepish grin but resumed tapping the moment he turned away.

Clara’s name flashed at the bottom of the screen, and Marinette cupped her hands over her mouth. Everyone leaned forward as she approached the camera in a colorful, flowing gown.

“She’s wearing my favorite!” Marinette squeaked between her fingers. Her dad patted her knee as her mom turned up the volume on the television.

“Standing here on the red carpet with Best Pop Artist nominee Clara Nightingale,” the reporter said, turning to Clara with a smile. “Clara, can I just say you look lovely tonight? Who are you wearing?”

“My dress was designed by someone sweet; a teen whose talent can’t be beat. More beautiful than any melody I’ve ever sang, this dress is by Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Clara twirled around, the skirt of the dress rippling with color.

Marinette buried her face in a couch pillow with a shrill scream. Adrien rubbed her back with a laugh. She shot up again, eyes glued to the screen as Clara gushed about the details of her dress before the conversation steered toward her award nomination.

“Can I just say? Stun-ning!” Eliott said.

“That dress is everything! It looks even better than it did on paper.” Macy agreed.

“A celebrity wearing my daughter’s original designs! I always knew someone would recognize how amazing you are.” Her dad pulled her in for a tight hug.

“We’re so proud of you, honey. We know how hard you worked,” her mom said.

“You did an amazing job, Marinette.” Adrien pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Well, we have to get back to the bakery, so we’ll let you kids watch the rest together, okay?” Her mother passed Macy the remote.

“Good night.” Marinette waved as they stood and took their leave.

“Actually, I should go too. I forgot to do my physics homework,” Macy said, standing up. “Martin, can you come help me? It’ll take me hours if you don’t.”

Martin flicked his gaze over to Marinette and nodded. “Uh, yeah, I can do that.”

“Oh, ya know, I just remembered that I promised my dad we’d help him with that thing,” Lisette said.

“Oh yeah! Sorry, it’s like a big, complicated thing. We need to go too.” Eliott nodded. “Congrats again. You’re amazing and wonderful, and you deserve this more than anyone.”

“Thanks.” Marinette smiled.

“See you tomorrow!” Macy called as they all shuffled out the door.

“Is it just me or was that a lot of lame excuses?” Marinette tilted her head.

“I asked them to give us some time alone.” Adrien admitted.

“Oh.” Marinette’s cheeks warmed as Adrien wrapped an arm around her.

“I know things have been crazy lately, but in a way, I’m really glad all of this happened. I might not have ever realized how I felt about you if it hadn’t,” he said. “It’s a weird positive that’s come from everything.”

“Yeah.” Marinette leaned against his shoulder with a smile. “I’m happy things worked out. I never would have told you how I felt otherwise.”

“Did you really tell your parents how cute I was?” he asked with a smirk.

“I- Well, I didn’t- I mean-” She buried her face in his shirt with a groan.

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard you stammer like that. I forgot how cute it is.” Adrien chuckled.

“It’s your fault.” She jabbed his chest with one finger. “You’re so cute. It makes me all flustered.”

“Hmm, then I wonder how you’ll react to this.” He reached into his pocket to retrieve a long jewelry case, opening it to reveal a small pink diamond necklace.

“Adrien!”

“I wanted to get you something to remember me by since we go to different schools now. I miss you like crazy, so I thought that maybe you could at least have a small piece of me when we’re apart,” he said. “Do you like it?”

“Adrien…” Marinette cupped a hand over her mouth. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

The gem was warm against her skin as Adrien fastened it around her neck, a physical reminder of his love. They’d overcome so much together, and while their fight was far from over, at least Marinette had him.

Adrien turned her jaw to face him, brushing her cheek with his thumb. Those warm green eyes softened as he leaned in, and Marinette closed her eyes. His breath swirled hot on her lips when they brushed, sending a jolt up her spine. Her heart hammered in a frenzy, building rapidly in anticipation. But just as release came, his pocket buzzed, and they both crashed down to earth again.

With a short sigh, Adrien pulled back and retrieved his phone, quirking a brow at the caller ID.

“It’s Chloe,” he said. “Hell-”

“Were you two going to list Dupain-Cheng designing for Clara Nightingale among our assets, or was I just supposed to figure that out myself?” She scolded.

“Sorry. It was kind of-”

“No time for excuses. I need to propose this to you before I change my mind. I know the perfect way to enact your plan,” Chloe said with a groan. “I hate myself for even considering it.”

“What are you suggesting?” Adrien’s eyebrows furrowed.

“We’re going to make Dupain-Cheng famous, and I think I know the perfect way to do it.”

#mdcspr #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist remix #my writing

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angelicamerlinbarnes · 3 years

Text

I just really think Remus Lupin is a ballerina okay AU

Remus Lupin has been doing ballet since he was four. He was exuberant and flashy at first, but after his first teacher, Greyback, molested and abused him, he is quiet and reserved. He prefers to dance by himself and does not speak to anyone inside or outside of the class. He wears pink material and is the best dancer in the school, but everyone is more terrified of him than they are jealous. He has sad eyes and soft hair, but prominent scars (both self-inflicted and from Greyback and accidents) cover his freckled skin. He’s a mystery, but no one wants to solve him.

He lives with his roommate and only friend, Severus Snape, who is a writer. He spins out films and novels and poems by the hundreds, especially inspired by the rain. Remus and Severus will often spend rainy days together in their apartment, with Severus typing furiously and scribbling while Remus dances to Hozier and Lana Del Rey off to the side. Sometimes when Remus will have nightmares, Severus will hold him and sing Russian lullabies until he falls asleep. Severus smokes lazily and wears subdued flower and gothic dresses that show off his jutting hips and collar bones. Having escaped an abusive father and a dead mother, he and Remus bond over their shit parents, with Remus’ father being neglectful and his mother kind but catatonic. Their neighbors think they’re witches, but they’re alright with that.

They both have to work to pay the bills, so while Severus works with preschoolers, Remus works as an assistant for a terrifying professor named Grindelwald at the university. He’s a reformed felon who’s always glowering, and there are rumors he’s Dumbledore’s husband, who is Remus’ mysterious ballet teacher with the twinkling eyes. But no one has the guts to ask him - it’s unknown what he was locked up for, and nobody wants to risk that it was irrational homicide. He mostly ignores Remus though, and doesn’t mind if Remus reads or dances while he works, so Remus doesn’t think he’s too bad.

One day Remus is grading some papers for Grindelwald when Lily Evans walks in, a vision in a white floral lace flowing vest and an across-the-shoulders dark blue dress, a brown belt around her waist and matching ankle boots coming up over creme knee-high knit socks, a black hat on her head. There’s a camera around her neck and her smile is beautiful, surrounded by her freckles, and she and Remus hit it off immediately. She asks if he can spare some time to be her model for the day, and he agrees. They’re hanging out in the park and laughing when Severus walks over, having finished work. The moment he and Lily lay eyes on each other, something happens, something magical, and Remus can see it in both of their smiles as they exchange shy hellos.

Lily starts to hang around them, her and Severus teetering on the edge of something. Remus nudges Severus until he’s brave enough to ask her out, and their first date is in the park where they met, sitting on a bench in the rain and watching the birds. Remus is pretty sure they’re gonna get married one day.

To keep himself busy while his two friends fall in love, Remus escapes to the dance school, dancing alone to Lana Del Rey in an empty room when the door creaks open and he hears, “Wow.” He turns around and smiles, taking in the sight of James Potter, an old school friend who left for Julliard and he hasn’t seen in years. James laughs, pulling him into a hug, and Remus lets him, tangling his hands in James’ curls and grinning when James presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. James tells him he’s been enjoying a gap year before going to search for a job as a back-up dancer for Taylor Swift, to which Remus giggles and tells him he’ll be great. James beams, and pulls Remus along, saying he has to meet James’ best friend-partner-person. Remus agrees, and changes back into his flowing white dress decorated in bees and black flats, tucking spruce leaves in his hair before taking James’ hand and following him out.

At James’ apartment, he calls out, “Babe! I’m home!” Remus watches as Sirius Black comes skidding down the hall, dazzling in a sparkling black croptop with gold touches and a raggedy sheer maroon skirt that falls just above his spiky combat boots. With white and gold dahlias in his hair, he’s the most beautiful thing Remus has ever seen, and he stares as James pecks Sirius on the mouth, coming away with dark red lipstick stains. When Sirius looks up at Remus, his eyes twinkling, and Remus reaches out a hesitant hand, which Sirius takes. “Hi,” he breathes, and Sirius laughs, loud and bright. He leans in and kisses Remus’ cheek. “Hello, beautiful,” he says sweetly, wrapping an arm around Remus’ waist. “James has told me all about you, love.” Remus blushes, unable to stop smiling even as Sirius pulls away at James’ indignant “Oi!” and doesn’t touch him again. Sirius is the love of his life - he doesn’t know how, but it’s something he just somehow knows, the feeling taking root in his chest and sprouting flowers.

Sirius, as it turns out, is James’ roommate and queerplatonic partner. He ran away from his abusive home and is taking commissions as an artist. Mostly he draws wolves, dogs, rats, deers, doves, snakes, and cats. He affectionately calls Remus Moony, insisting his scars look like something were bit him and his eyes are the fierce amber of a wolf’s. Sirius in turn is called Padfoot, for his doglike energy and loving nature, while James is dubbed Prongs for being a dumbass who continually forgets he’s too big to fit in small spaces and gets lost in the woods almost every weekend. Remus never wants to stop hanging out with them, and learns to spend hours shopping at the vintage shop where Sirius works, the two of them falling for each other fast while James reclaims them as his partners in love as in life. And Remus is so, so happy.

While he’s busy falling in love with Sirius, Lily has moved in with him and Severus. Remus doesn’t mind, and tells Severus he’s thinking of making a home with Sirius and James. Severus hugs him and tells him he’s proud of him, suggesting they hang out that day just the two of them, like old times. Remus agrees, and lets Severus take him to the cafe where Lily works. In the corner of the shop is Regulus Black, a boy drenched in hoodies and coats that Remus and Severus buy free food and drinks for. Regulus thanks them profusely, and they all make small talk until Remus makes a comment that Regulus looks like Remus’ boyfriend Sirius, to which Regulus starts crying, explaining that Sirius is his older brother and he’s been trying to find him for years but gave up looking when their shit parents died and Sirius was nowhere to be found at the funeral. Remus offers to take him home, and Severus kisses Remus on the forehead before heading off to find Lily.

On the way there, they stop at the bakery and accept some free cupcakes from Peter Pettigrew, who owns the bakery with his elusive partner. Regulus, as it turns out, is homeless, and has been trying to make it on his busking money alone. But while he’s fairly lovely at singing, it’s not enough to buy anything concrete. As they eat, Regulus also tells Remus about Amir Levis, a librarian who lets him stay at the library. Remus exclaims that he already knows Amir, who helps Remus remember his pills and doctor’s appointments and always has a spare wheelchair and some tea for him just in case. Regulus admits to having a crush on Amir, but he’s too scared to do anything about it. Remus assures him he and Sirius will help him with it, and just like that they’re on their way.

At home, Remus smiles softly at the sight of Sirius and James entwined on the couch and says, “Look who I found.” At the sight of Regulus, Sirius shoves James to the floor in his haste to stand up, taking Regulus’ face in his hands and searching his eyes for answers. “You got out?” He says, breathless. “Really? You’re alright?” Regulus smiles sheepishly. “Of course I did, Siri,” he whispers. “You think I was gonna let you have all the fun?” Sirius tears up and tugs him close, rocking back and forth as the two of them mumble apologies and love confessions into each other’s necks and shoulders and hair. Remus gravitates towards James, kissing him with a smile before pulling him out of the apartment, saying they should leave the brothers alone.

Remus takes the opportunity to introduce James to Severus and Lily, who are immediately taken with him. They offer to watch him for the afternoon while Remus goes to therapy with Maxwell Needles, a counselor with magenta hair who talks to Remus about life, his accident, his trauma, Greyback, his suicidal tendencies, anxiety, PTSD, and depression. Remus also takes the chance to pick up Sirius and James’ ADHD medication, Peter’s OCD prescription, Lily’s bipolar medication, Severus’ schizophrenia suppressors, and a few books on autism (for Severus), Tourette’s (for Lily), and eating disorders (for James and, Remus suspects somehow, Regulus). Max is delighted to see him with so many friends, and says they’ll bring Peter over sometime for dinner. Though he’s not sure where that would happen since he’s torn between two homes right now, Remus agrees with a smile and bids the skater kid in the checkered jeans goodbye.

Back at school, Remus spends his afternoons in conversation with Mcgonogall, the waltz teacher who takes care of him. She’d adopted him when his parents died and he tries to stick around, asking advice about Sirius and James and whether moving in with them is a good idea. Mcgonogall says she thinks it is, and that she knows Sirius is a kind young man. As it is, he calls her Minnie, and knows her as a friend and a grandmother of sorts, since she helped him when he first ran away to James’ house. Remus is content with continuing the conversation but is interrupted by a phone call telling him Sirius, James, and Regulus have been jailed for a fist fight on the street.

Remus goes to pick them up, where he meets Bellatrix Lestrange, an abusive cousin of Sirius and Regulus who took particular joy out of torturing Sirius, who she almost killed once. She’s also been known to abuse children, especially those of the poor. Also in jail are Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, a couple married only in spirit who keep having miscarriages and take their abusive anger out on each other and strangers. Their landlord, Voldemort, had demanded unconventional payments and they’d been essentially enslaved to him for years, only escaping his cultist grasp by means of murder, which is why they’re here now.

Remus sees James holding Regulus close and whispering to him as he kisses the cuts and bruises on his face in the corner of the cell, but says nothing about it, kissing Sirius hello. The four of them go home together, and as soon as Regulus is asleep Remus tells James and Sirius that he wants to make a home with them someday, just not right now. They laugh and smile and tell him they’re ready when he is and that they love him, and Remus thinks, Things are good.

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Text

Note: Instead of posting a meta or a fic today, allow me to take a quick break from that because I think I really need to appreciate some people here and the fandom overall.

February 7, 2021.

Today, I turned 24 and my boyfriend surprised me with a gift I think I’ll be taking to heart for a very long time.

The story behind the gift was as precious (or even more precious) as the gift itself and I thought I’d share it since it turned out some content creators were involved in this gift and I very much want to express how much this gift has defined this day for me and will place my 24th birthday as one of those birthdays I don’t think I’ll ever forget.

Apparently, I had casually dropped both my tumblr and my ao3 account during one of our conversations and somewhere around November he had started looking through my bookmarks, my posts on tumblr and some of my interactions with people in the fandom.

I should have seen it coming. It had started with my boyfriend suddenly asking about my hyperfixation with Levihan.

Sav? Shipping? Sav? Binge reading ships and meta posts? Sav? Gushing about a fictional ship?

And I remember gushing about this with my seemingly uninterested boyfriend a long night after explaining what was oddly the most out of character thing for someone like me.

I was sharing with him my metas and hcs and maybe, I was dropping a few of my favorite quotes along the way and it turned out he was interested. Suddenly he was asking me about my favorite fics, my favorite scenes. Suddenly, he was rereading my favorite fics with me and a few times, he was quoting those same scenes. I did find out he was looking through my blog when I got a random message from a really sketchy tumblr telling me to open my facebook.

I suspected a few times that he could be planning something. December passed with nothing and eventually he stopped asking so I clocked that as a fevered dream or unnecessary assuming on my end and didn’t think too much of it after.

It turned out my boyfriend had messaged my favorite authors about their fics and he commissioned one of my favorite artists (if not my favorite) to draw a few photos and bound them into a Levihan Anthology

And it feels fucking amazing to receive something like this. To get Levihan which helped me through the worst of 2020, bound forever as a book I can just open up and read anytime. And I guess tearing up at receiving such a gift had me thinking of a lot of things at once (which were always at the back of mind) but I thought of sharing now.

The past year wasn’t easy. Actually. don’t think it’s an understatement to say this past year was dog shit. With the covid pandemic and all plans after that cancelled, I’m sure we can all agree we had our ups and downs.

I had a lot of my own plans completely thrown out the window for numerous reasons. I had plans of going to law school part time while building a career. And, I got a job right after college to make these plans come true. In September the law school I got accepted to (after working so damn hard the past year to get accepted) denied my appeal for night classes. I decided to drop my enrollment to focus on my career. A week later, my job laid me off.

And for once in my life, I wasn’t going anywhere. And I lived in a house where everyone was always doing something and as soon as I lost my job I was pressured to find another one. But as we all know, searching for a job during this pandemic isn’t easy. I was still reeling after having dropped my enrollment just to focus on my job only to lose that job the week after with no prior notice. Everyone around me was busy doing their own thing. I had no one to talk to and for a while, I was falling into this pit of depression.

My days consisted of me hiding under the covers of my bed in between the few interviews I would take day to day. Around that time, I decided to binge watch Attack on Titan as well

I was never one to get hyper fixated in ships. In fact, this was the first ship since Royai and Victuuri which I have been so passionate. And this is a whole new level of passion. I think this is the first time I’ve ever written so much in this small amount of time. It was slow going. Just like Levi and Hange’s relationship, my fixation with this ship was a slowburn.

Those days alone, I was reading fanfiction by the bundle, I was scrolling through the Levihan tag like a simp, leaving kudos in ao3 on a throwaway account and just scrolling through random people’s tumblr accounts.

What happened during the one month? And when I was alone, sad, lonely and stagnant with no one to talk to, when everyone around me was living their own lives, all I had alone in the bedroom was Levi and Hange’s stories to keep me company between interviews.

And the meta analyses and headcanons I had about their relationship were teaching me things. They were teaching me that life was never about how quickly you progress or how far you go. Maybe the real winners in life are the ones who can build good relationships, build relationships so mutually satisfying they keep each other growing and in those few moments reading, headcanoning ships, I did realize, maybe even as stagnant as I was at that moment, my life wasn’t dogshit.

No one’s life is dogshit for a few small bumps along the way. Sometimes it just is part of the process of growing, learning to get past the worse, learning to manage relationships. And maybe it’s these relationships which make life worth living. Maybe it’s these struggles depicted in these stories and the bounce back. Maybe it’s the love, the life, the emotions so carefully described and depicted in every single story which makes life, life.

With every single fic I read and every single fan art I scrolled through. Levihan was teaching my things about love, loss and life.

Sometimes, these fandoms are the things which can catch people before they fall too low into something. These works and stories authors and artists shared so generously were what pulled me out of this state and are what inspired me to explore this relationship for all the potential its worth and maybe share my own stories and headcanons which people may learn a thing or two from or maybe just find some comfort and hope in.

And these inspirations eventually evolved to writing. Writing 10,000 words in a day in between three interviews? I never was a writer but somehow, I found myself spending hours exploring the themes of love, loss and life with our favorite pairing

I didn’t start writing out of nowhere. I didn’t start making metas out of nowhere. I needed the right inspiration, the right content to get me into this point where I could continue writing, reading, meta-ing, appreciating, headcanoning and everything in between.

And I just wanted to express my gratefulness to every single person in the fandom who had made it possible for me to pull out of that blackhole. Fandoms are underrated and I believe there are so many lessons which can be learned from the right content and from the right people.

To the people who so willingly went along with my boyfriend’s little project:

@faerielleart I saved A LOT of your art and they’re sitting in my google photos under a folder called Levihan and maybe I did share a few of your photos (the cheeks one and the beast titan one and the les miserables) ones to my boyfriend unsolicited just to show him how beautiful Levihan can be. Thank you so much for these beautiful drawings.

@lizaloveslevihan You were one of the first people I talked with in this fandom and dreams really was one of those stories that fucked me up a little bit, had me make a few misses on the commute on the way home one day but maybe it did have me explore the angst genre a little more, maybe it did have me explore Levi’s character a little more.

@ariadneamare YELLOW. OH GOD. You know those letters? The ones which Hange left Levi at the end of the story? I ended up copying and pasting them and sending them to my boyfriend right after reading and I remember talking to him about this. We might be facing that same type of story in the future and I guess that ended up becoming a lot of foundation of our discussion and I guess, it’s just proof that there is so much to learn from fanfiction. There’s just so much to explore and fanfiction as a genre just does not get the credit it deserves.

@fanmoose12 I was exploring your works even before I started this tumblr up again. Maybe it was even your works which got me building my own headcanons from Levihan and writing from there. And I think I did leave a few anonymous messages telling you how I started exploring other genres because of your fics. Your works got my out of my dark place, it got me exploring a lot of other genres and for that I’m eternally grateful.

And somehow, my boyfriend picked that all up from late night discussions and one-on-one metas. Surprisingly, he wasn’t just playing along to humor his girlfriend. He was exploring the themes of love, life, loss and Levihan right along with me. (And got spoiled about Hange’s death along the way… Oops.)

And I am eternally grateful for that and I made sure to shower him with a lot of kisses after he kept me in the loop with what has been going on these past few months with his sudden interest in Levihan.

And this huge thank you goes out to all content creators (authors, artists, gif creators, shitposters alike). Sometimes you never know who’s thinking about your work, who’s shoehorning your works and quoting them to their best friends. Sometimes, you never will find out but your work had pulled someone out of a blackhole which they’ve been stuck in and sometimes you never know that your work has been that seemingly small thing that had taught them a lesson in love, life or relationships. Sometimes, that one work turned out to be an inspiration which got them writing and sharing their own stories or making their own drawings

And I guess, the point is, keep writing. Keep drawing. Keep sharing pouring your love, passion and emotions into works of art because you never really know whose heart you touched or whose life you changed.

I have a job now. I decided to push law school a few years back and maybe take the time to work on myself now and maybe spend the next months or maybe years writing metas and fanfictions. I was pulled out of my hole. I was inspired. I have my own stories to tell and I don’t think I would have been here if I hadn’t spent the last few months reading fic after fic, meta after meta, appreciating art after art,

So anyway, I just wanted to share some pics of my favortie fics, immortalized in one anthology, all organized by my boyfriend. And I think he made some great decisions with these.

(Bookbinding credits to @mayerwien)

#levihan #levi x hange #levi x hanji #lyf #life post

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warmau · 4 years

Text

painter!au jihoon

*this post was commissioned | based very lightly off seventeen - fallin’ flowers tw: break up mention/general angst

“something in your gentleness entraps him you make it look so easy, to love and provide for something he knows a flower is one thing, a human is another - but could you do that for him too?”

you had thought jihoon was going to marry them

so standing in the middle of his studio with the remnants of their relationship, a broken vase of lilies in the corner, his undone portrait of them dripping down with the streaks of paint he’d thrown at the canvas in a fit of confusion and pain

feels .......... wrong

as if you were the one who was broken up with, and not jihoon who is on his knees a couple of feet away

hands stained in watercolors, eyes blank and burrowing

you reach for the wilting lilies first, you’ve known jihoon long enough to be aware of the fact that trying to use words to comfort him right now won’t work

so you silently begin to clean up, plucking items that belong to his ex and placing them out of sight

you take the ruined canvas with half their face sketched out and turn it over

jihoon doesn’t move from his spot as you work - doesn’t say anything - doesn’t even look at you

when you’re done you finally kneel down beside him, bring the hot wet towel to his hands and start to scrub the dry paint from his palms

you try to be gently but jihoon finally speaks

“harder, you have to scrub harder if you want to get rid of them.”

you can’t tell if he’s talking about the paint or of the memories that must be flooding into him

you had remembered how happy he had looked, being in love, being with someone who seemed to understand him

now he was empty and you were scared of what could happen if he was left like this alone

you don’t argue, you scrub harder and finally you get some of the colors off his skin

there’s still smudges thought, the same way there will still be those pieces of his ex scarred across him

time heals everything - you want to say that, but its too early to start preaching

instead you tell jihoon he should go to bed now, you’ll take care of the rest of the cleaning up and put his art supplies away

he gives a vague sort of look toward the bedroom and then back at you

“i broke the vase, the one with the lilies.”

“it’s ok, ive already cleaned-”

“i should go buy fresh ones.”

his eyes glaze over, he gets up and you scramble to your feet in the process

you put a hand on his chest to stop him and jihoon stares at you, but you can tell he isnt focused

“ill buy them, please jihoon. go to bed.”

somehow you manage to get him to turn around

and you are standing now in the doorway to his apartment, with a trash bag full of his exes things and the pathetic looking lilies

you had bought them as a gift when you’d come over to celebrate jihoon’s successful art show

his ex had put them into a vase and gushed over how pretty they looked - jihoon had never been one to be so romantic, but he had said that they looked almost as pretty as his ex did

you had watched them be so loving toward each other just days ago

but now it was all gone and part of you is angry at both of them

at jihoon’s ex for leaving him, out of the blue and with no real reason but the excuse of having “outgrown” him

and at jihoon for calling you after it had happened

but that anger toward him is really just a cover for something else

the hollowing pit in your stomach that has always been there since you met jihoon in college.

the pit you’ve covered with years of support for him and his relationships and his art

the pit, in which sits the actual emotion you’ve been hiding from the world

if you had picked me, i would have never hurt you like this

the thought is cruel and you tell yourself never to think such a thing like that again

but its there, it will always be there, because you love jihoon

not that you ever plan to let that truth come to the surface......

the next morning, you stop by the florist to pick up the lilies you promised you’d buy

you look at them, watching as one of the petals sags to the side, threatening to fall

you dont know what it is about lilies in particular - they bloom so big and beautiful that they often steal the attention in a garden

they’re quite the opposite of you

who has always found yourself more of a queen anne’s lace, playing a side role in the main stories of all your friends

but you adore them above all other flowers, touching the petal made of velvet and suddenly remembering that you had seen lilies when you first met jihoon

you had taken art in college as an extra credit class

you weren’t at all any good, but it was enjoyable to take a course that didnt demand much from you but creativity

one of the first assignments had been still life: drawing baskets of fruit, books on tables, flowers in vases

you had ended up with a vase with one purple lily in it.

the only other person who had also chose it was jihoon

you didn’t know his name back then

just that he was so beautiful, like he had been drawn himself and came to life off the page

his eyes like umber, russet sunsets - his mouth slightly parted in concentration as he let his pencil flow across his canvas

you had trouble focusing on the flower, which is probably half the reason it came out terribly

but it had also allowed jihoon to look over and offer with a quiet tone, that you maybe work on shading here - and dimension here

you had told him you weren’t in the art major and he had given you the kind of look that read, i could tell

before smiling to himself in the way you caved your head in a bit of embarrassment

it wasn’t like you ever thought the meaningless, sometimes only minute long conversation you’d have with him in the art room would turn into a friendship which harbored its way into one-sided love

somehow you had just ended up being invited warmly into his small knit circle

jihoon extending his hand to you after getting a text about dinner with seokmin and jeonghan

jihoon allowing only his and your eyes to fall upon his works in progress, you taking the free time you had to spend at his studio mixing paints and organizing his drawing materials

he never ask you to do those things - but he also never chided you for it

jeonghan had mentioned it once, when you were all walking in the summer evening after a movie outing

that you being able to earn jihoon’s trust was a higher honor than one might think

you had looked from jeonghan to jihoon - who had been walking a bit in front with the rest of your friends

head turned, his profile against the setting sun

“ah - are you buying another bouquet for your artist boyfriend?”

you jump at the sudden question and shake your head

“he’s not my boyfriend.”

you swallow and find that your throats gone dry

“he actually just got broken up with so......”

the florist frowns, taking you gently by the hand and leading you away from the lilies

“then those are not the flowers you should be getting him, you need to get him something that will say cheer up! there’s someone better out there for you - could i suggest tulips?”

you give a polite smile

“no, i think i have to take the lilies.”

when you arrive at jihoon’s apartment, the door is unlocked and jihoon is still in bed

from the way the kitchen is untouched and he’s wearing the same shirt he was yesterday you assume he hasn’t moved in all this time

“jihoon”

you softly speak

“it’s already well past lunch, have you eaten?”

he pulls his feet up so they disappear under the covers again. you look around the room and find a vase full of old paintbrushes

you take it and tell jihoon you’re going to go make him something to eat and that you’ve brought the lilies

he doesn’t reply, not until you turn in the doorway and his voice is smaller than you’ve ever heard before

“can you put the lilies in here?”

“you don’t want them in the studio?”

“no, please put them here.”

you quickly fry up an egg and make some coffee, which you set down on the night table beside jihoon’s bed

you move his sketchbook away and realize that it’s open to an empty page

your eyes briefly glance to see if jihoon has reacted at all, but he’s still

you go back to wash out the waves and put the lilies in

you wrap a rubberband around his paintbrushes and set them by the others which are stock piled in the studio room

a small ping of relief floods through you when you enter the bedroom and jihoon is up, holding the cup of coffee in his hands

usually people would suggest you make conversation to help ease jihoon’s mind out of whatever dark place it has wondered into it

but you just put the lilies down and tend to cleaning up whatever other paper and things you can see on the floor

even though jihoon only finishes the coffee and maybe a quarter of the egg, it’s still a start

the pain he’s feeling is fresh and you don’t want to push anything

but as you tell him you’re off to leave again - you remind him that he does have another exhibition planned in two weeks

on the way back home you hope his love for painting can cradle him through this all

whenever you think of the sadness that comes with being unloved, you throw yourself into your hobbies, scribbling down poems or re-reading novels from your time in school

you’d done it all to stop thinking about jihoon - you hope he does the same too

about a week passes when you return to jihoon’s again, and it’s only because this time jeonghan calls you with a serious worry about jihoon’s exhibition

“he isn’t painting, that’s the problem.”

“what do you mean he isn’t painting?”

“when i came over, he was sitting in front of the canvas with his hand pressed against it - but ........ he wasn’t drawing or painting or doing anything.”

you show up to the apartment after the call and take a deep breath before you let yourself in

today might be the first time you mention the breakup to jihoon, and you don’t know if its too early yet

to make the dread bubble even harder in your stomach is the fact that sitting outside of his apartment is that undone portrait of his ex

its half shrouded with other trash bags left to be collected

you look at the familiar face and clench your fist a bit tighter

if you hadnt done this to him, if you hadnt made this mess - i wouldnt be stuck cleaning it up.

you chide and immediately fall into regret

its not a mess, taking care of your friends is not a mess.

you knock on the door and wait for a moment till you hear jihoon turn the lock

you’re relived to see that his hair is wet from a fresh shower, but the bags under his eyes like crows wings cancels it out

as well as the fact that he looks as if he’s seen the devil himself

“what’s wrong?”

jihoon’s shoulders shrink

“do i really have to answer that?”

you step inside and the door closes behind you two

“jeonghan said you’re having trouble painting”

jihoon’s head drops and the darkness of the hallway makes everything feel closer and more intense

he turns and starts to walk toward the studio and you follow, gasping a little at the sight of it

canvases broken in halves, paint spilled on the floor - but not a single new painting, not a single completed project

jihoon sits down in the middle of it all and puts his head in his hands

he looks like he’s in agony, silent and torturous

is this what happens when an artist loses their muse?

you don’t know how to help and that makes it all the more worse

you just sit down beside jihoon

he lets you take his hands in your own

in the corner of the room those fresh lilies youve bought have wilted again

on one of the broken canvases, the only thing jihoon has been able to paint is those scattered and browning petals

you start to come by everyday after that because as much as you share jeonghan’s worry about the art

you are more so worried about jihoon shutting down

now he has nothing to focus on, just the fact that he’s lost the love of his life

so you try and entertain and keep him alive to the best of your ability

with groceries and company, bringing over his other friends - trying to coax him into going outside

jihoon reacts on some level, but you can tell that he just wants to paint again

all he’s done is brush strokes on the white paper, the shape vaguely like that of a flower but you cant ever tell what kind

he also keeps asking you if you can bring him lilies again

you do, and this time they live longer because you tend to them - and when you do you fail to realize that jihoon starts to watch you

he takes note of the way you move the vase with both hands

the way you keep the steams between the same two fingers every time

you arent burdened by the little chore because its takes at most five or so minutes out of the day

but jihoon unfolds each step you take like a storybook page

something in your gentleness entraps him

you make it look so easy, to love and provide for something

he knows a flower is one thing, a human is another - but

could you do that for him too?

he looks into his hands and the cup of coffee you made for him is sitting on the table to the left

have you already been doing it, all this time?

which is why on the day before the exhibition

when you ask him if he wants you to help him cancel it

he says no, he thinks he can fish something in time

you light up and ask if he’s finally found a new muse, but jihoon blinks slowly

“a new muse?”

“yes, i mean i thought - well i thought they were your muse and losing them meant you couldnt paint but if youre saying you can now then-

jihoon’s eyes turn to ice at the mention but then he shakes his head

“they ...... i never saw them as a muse.”

he stops to think on it, he isn’t lying

“but you loved them, i mean -”

he keeps his eyes down and you fidget, “sorry, let’s not talk about that.”

“i did, you’re right i did love them but that doesn’t mean they inspired me.”

he taps a finger and then looks at you

sitting across from him, how you’ve done a million times before

suddenly jihoon thinks if he can look at you like that for a little while longer

he can create again

he can paint something

so when he asks you to stay still, you do - and jihoon brings his pencil down to paper

only to get up half an hour later and take you with him

he sits you down again and sets up a bigger canvas this time, brings his paintbrushes

and then he moves the vase with the lily from behind him to sit at your feet

“jihoon, are you going to paint me?”

“yes”

“why?”

he looks from the lily to you

“because i want to, and it’s the first time in a while that i think ill be able to.”

you don’t realize it yourself not until you’ve fallen asleep in your position and jihoon is deep into his painting

that the muse you were talking about and thinking he’d lost

had been you all along

jihoon knew it, even when he was in a relationship, that there was no one else in this world that could make him paint

he’d felt it the first time you met in that art class, he’d watched you fumble through your drawing

and usually he wasn’t inspired to draw the mundane, the everyday

until he started seeing just how much it could mean to him

he had been painting that portrait of his ex out of obligation, they had asked him to do it

and so it had been taking a while - it had been unfinished not even because of the breakup but because jihoon didn’t want to do it

and yet here he was, the brush strokes pouring out of him in an attempt to capture every little detail there is to you

he had been wallowing in his pain and hadn’t bothered to look at you again

until you started to be there, everyday, like those lilies

and those lilies, beautiful and sweet

they were yours, you were theirs. to jihoon something about the silk of the petal and the sway of your hair made sense

he doesn’t wake you up, he’s been your friend long enough to know the parts of you he wants in the painting

he only stops when he’s done and his hair is stuck to him with sweat and the sun is rising outside his window

you’ve slumped over completely onto the couch and jihoon comes closer to move you into a more comfortable position

this is the first time in these weeks that he is taking care of you instead of the other way around

when his fingers touch your skin he suddenly feels the kind of sparking urge he has only felt with others who hes been intimate with

your small stir in his arms causes him alarm and excitement all at once, when your eyes open slightly he jumps back before he fears he’ll do something you wont like

in the morning, jihoon is passed out cold in his bed and you get up and rub your eyes

finally you let yourself move toward the canvas to see what jihoon has painted

its you.........its you in every way..........you stare at that face of yours like a mirrored reflection

seeing it like this something ties a knot in your heart

“is this what its like to be a muse?”

jihoon’s voice floats through the room

“you’ve always been mine.”

you turn - because you don’t think you’ve really heard it - maybe its just your drowsy imagination speaking

but jihoon is there and the phone is ringing, jeonghan about the exhibition

neither you or jihoon reach for the phone

instead you ask him,

“what do you mean?”

he doesn’t know how to explain it

instead he looks at you and then over his shoulder into his room

the exhibition doesnt start until the afternoon, and you are in his studio and you are whats brought him back from a point of emptiness

you are more than a muse

somehow you end up with his hand on yours again and this time that spark is searing up through both of you

jihoon’s paint stained fingers splay on the small of your back

you are still a little scared that its too early for this, if its just the wounds on his heart speaking

but jihoons lips only centimetres from yours promise that its more than that

its all that time wasted, his attention was yours that day in the art classroom

and he was an idiot for ever trying to put it on someone else

but like all good things - they come with time and if you want him how he wants you then hes here

and he’s ready to let this between you bloom into something more

you giggle when his breath tickles you before you finally kiss

you wonder if everyone will be surprised by that painting jihoon has done of you when its up in the wall of the gallery

when the lily petals fall from the flower in that vase and land at your entangled feet.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen au #jihoon scenarios #jihoon imagines #jihoon au #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines #woozi au #member: woozi #sfw #writing commissions #seventeen #woozi #park jihoon

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trainsinanime · 3 years

Text

Here’s a Miraculous Ladybug story idea that I may write some time, but probably not, because I only really care about chapter two of what would probably need to be at least ten.

Chapter one features Lila going after Marinette full-force. Not the weak boring „she rips up her notebook so hard that Marinette has to move to Gotham“ crap. We’re doing this properly: Lila convinces the Mayor that Marinette is planning to resurrect Napoleon and bring him back to power. So the Mayor has Marinette imprisoned without trial, because apparently he can do that in the Miraculous universe, and not even her friends or family know what’s going on.

Chapter 3 and later will detail how Marinette managed to escape the prison after fourteen years, with the help of a professional hypnotist. She discovers a pirate treasure on a small uninhabited island off the coast of Italy. With the money from the treasure, she buys the island and the title of nobility that comes with it, and returns to Paris. Rich, and now officially a countess, she will reward those who were loyal to her, and destroy all her enemies. (I haven’t yet worked out what that means in detail.)

But the really interesting part for me is what happens in those fourteen years. Here are my notes. Content warning: Dark, Major Character Death, Intended as over-the-top and silly but maybe not over-the-top enough, and of course, Adrien/Lila:

With Marinette gone, a lot of joy drops from the class immediately. Everybody loves her, and they only have weird rumours about what happened to her, rumours that they can’t believe even if the source is Lila. (No, we’re not doing class salt. Yes, that means my options for enemies in the later chapters are limited. I don’t care, I love Alya and the rest of the class and I am not throwing them under the bus.)

The first time Ladybug doesn’t appear to a fight, everybody is pissed. The second time, they’re even more pissed. The third time, they’re worried.

Chat Noir does his best. He decides to capture the Akumas, so Ladybug can cleanse them when she returns. For now, he stores them in mason jars. After a bit of thought, he decided to just store them in the cellar of the mansion, in a box labelled „Adrien’s favourite toys“. Nobody ever looks there.

No Ladybug means no cleanup. (The ear rings are kept in the warden’s office in Marinette’s prison, so Ladybug is out of commission for fourteen years). Adrien again tries to help, spending way too much time cataclysming debris. A child has lost their favourite plush shark in a river of chocolate? Chat Noir manages to „find“ and „clean“ it. No, it’s totally the same shark, not a new one that he just bought, believe me. The child is happy, but clearly it’s not enough.

The first time the Eiffel Tower is destroyed, rebuilding it is a matter of national pride. If Ladybug is gone, then France will step in. Gabriel donates a lot to the effort.

The second time the Eiffel Tower is destroyed, authorities decide to leave the debris as a monument. The statue for Ladybug disappears.

With no Ladybug, Hawkmoth realises that he can’t get the ear rings. Attacks decrease, to once a month, then once every three months; apparently just to check whether Ladybug has returned. Around Adrien’s eighteenth birthday, it seems like Hawkmoth might retire for good. On a completely unrelated note, Gabriel appears to have lost all will to live.

Adrien can’t escape Lila, who continues to be employed by Gabriel, despite her not being very good at photoshoots. But he does his best to keep his distance.

Shortly after Adrien’s birthday, he is away, while Lila has a meeting with Gabriel and Nathalie. But tragedy strikes: Lila arrives and witnesses Gabriel shooting Nathalie and then himself. Why would he do such a thing? Good thing Lila is such a reliable witness. The case is so clear that the police don’t even have to check the gun for fingerprints.

Adrien is stricken with grief. He tries to call his friends, but nobody will reply. It’s almost as if someone with access to Gabriel’s computer had used the spy software on Adrien’s phone to disable it. But that’s clearly absurd. There is only one other person who is there to comfort him: Lila. Adrien doesn’t like her, but she is someone familiar. She spends the night.

The next morning, Adrien is disgusted, and the two part ways. But two months later, she reappears and tells him she is pregnant and it’s his child. She has a whole speech prepared about how he needs to take responsibility, but it’s not necessary: Adrien will not let his child grow up without a father.

The next month, the wedding is a weird affair. Lila wanted something grandiose, and she got it. But all their friends know that this is anything but true love.

Alix wonders aloud what Marinette’s role would have been if she had been here. Alya jokingly says that she’d be the bride. Adrien overhears, and he realises: Yeah, she would have been. He loves her. Always had. This moment is when the only wedding picture is taken where Adrien smiles.

Seven months later, Gabriel Agreste Junior is born. Adrien loves his son with all his heart, but he has questions. But Lila and her top-notch expensive doctors assure him that this is perfectly normal, sometimes pregnancies take a month longer or two. Adrien is not fully convinced, but he doesn’t want to cause a fuss.

Around this time we also get a new Hawkmoth, who is much meaner, but doesn’t seem to have as clear a goal. Everybody’s best guess is that this Hawkmoth is just going after whoever last pissed them off. (Totally forgot this one in the original version of the post, sorry)

Two years later, Lila’s daughter Emma Marinette Agreste Junior is born. Adrien picked the second name while Lila was asleep. Since Lila is not involved with her kid’s upbringing at all, she has not yet noticed. This time, Adrien is convinced that something is up and Lila is lying to him. The reason: He has recently learned how babies are made, and he knows for a fact that he never did that with Lila.

He confronts her. Lila isn’t concerned, though. What’s he going to do? Divorce her? Then he’s never going to see the kids again. The things she could make a court believe… Adrien is horrified by that thought, especially since he knows very well that he’s the only one in the marriage who loves these children.

Meanwhile, Lila’s own career as an actress isn’t going well. She’s a great natural talent, sure; she can make anyone believe anything. But to be a great actor, you still have to turn up on set every day, and not just when you feel like it. Oh, sure, she has great excuses, but the jobs still dry up fast. And while you can make up a story that makes you look good about one make-up artist you made cry, maybe two, there is a point where it becomes a problem.

She blames Adrien for this, mostly because he will generally not back up her lies about where she was. He doesn’t really care, though. Despite her threats, what’s she gonna do, leave with the kids? Thanks to his father, Adrien had some top notch lawyers, and the pre-nup agreement is watertight.

Unrelated to all this, behold Paris’s new mayor, Chloé Burgeois. She’s been embroiled in controversy from day one. Some say she’s too young. Others say she only got the job because her father was mayor before her. Yet others point to her publicly difficult relation with her constant partner and off-again-on-again girlfriend Sabrina. But perhaps the biggest talking point is that in her office, she has a big painting of a certain heroine in red with spots, with the words, „what would Ladybug do?“ underneath. She’s never lost trust, and the press hates her for it.

One day, her old school friend Alya visits. Alya’s own relationship to Ladybug is difficult: Part of her still holds out hope, just like Chat Noir. Another part of her curses Ladybug for just leaving. Her goal now is completely unrelated to Ladybug, though. She has uncovered new things about the Napoleon Resurrection Conspiracy: The main witness (Lila) and the supposed ring-leader: Marinette. That can’t be right.

She wants Chloé to reveal the truth. Chloé herself has no idea, and very little interest in investigating. Her father told her that this was all secret, and that she should never touch this subject.

But she knows very well what Alya is asking for here. Alya got her big break as a journalist by uncovering the files on the Napoleon Resurrection Conspiracy in the first place. The revelation that it had all been swept under the rug was what caused the old Mayor to step down in the first place. If Alya is now saying that this might all be wrong, that means she’s placing her whole career on the line. That level of commitment means something.

For her own part, it took Chloé a while to admit it, but she was shocked and heartbroken by Marinette’s sudden disappearance as well. It was the first step to becoming a somewhat nicer person, and forming real bonds with her classmates. She has the access to the archives. She could uncover the truth, and maybe even find out where Marinette is now. It wouldn’t be popular, and it might be dangerous… but what would Ladybug do?

Chloé is all in, and it doesn’t take long until she meets Lila. Chloé would not consider herself a fan. She knows the difference between Adrien’s real and fake smiles. Lila refuses to clear things up, though. Instead, she tells Chloé that the french secret service does not allow her to say anything, and that Chloé better drop it if she knows what’s good for her.

Chloé ignores it. She also ignores it when she gets a threatening letter. After all, Ladybug was up against powerful people, too, and she never let that stop her. She even ignores when her own personal Yacht sinks for unexplained reasons, until her Butler and Sabrina explain to her some things about the history of the french secret service (actually I’m not sure whether this is too much in bad taste; the alternative would be that her vacation home gets set on fire).

She tells Alya that there is nothing to know, and blocks her cell phone number. The next day, workers remove the Ladybug painting. After all, what Ladybug would do is just disappear, right? Only fitting. Sabrina laughs a little too artificially at the joke. Yes, indeed. Ladybug would just stop doing her job when the people needed her. Perfect analogy.

With that, the basic outline is set. Chapter three would probably be short and tell the story of Marinette’s imprisonment. Chapter four is then where the real revenge starts.

Other points:

At various points, Luka is sadly strumming his guitar.

I’m not sure what to do about Marinette’s parents. The mean option is that they die, full of grief over their missing daughter. The very mean option is that they end up separating first. I’m not sure Marinette’s revenge spree works if they’re still around, and I definitely don’t ever see them turning away from her.

Nino and Kagami could do with an arc here.

Anyway, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this, but since I don’t know how to turn this into a full story, this is as good as it gets. If any of you guys want to borrow parts or all of it for your stories, please go ahead.

#miraculous ladybug #story idea #lila rossis lies get exposed eventually #mlb story ideas

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petersasteria · 4 years

Text

Don’t Rain On My Parade - Holland!Reader

This is the prequel for Younger (I) 2.3k words

Holland!Reader Masterlist || TH Masterlist || HH Masterlist

Rich kid AU

* * * *

Money makes the world go round. Being born into a family with all the money in the world, it was hard to say that money isn’t everything because growing up, Y/N and her siblings were taught that money mattered a lot. So for the early years of their lives, that was all they’ve ever known.

Y/N was the only daughter of Nikki and Dom Holland and they all treasured her. Everything she wanted was easily handed to her and she was close with her brother Sam and Harry. They’re triplets, after all. Tom, the eldest, treasured her most. However, there are relationships that crash and burn. Y/N and Tom’s relationship is one of those relationships that perished.

As the Holland children grew, their views on money changed too. Y/N’s view on money changed drastically and it often made her the butt of her brothers’ insults. She didn’t care, though. While her brothers were parading their chosen gold diggers around at parties, she was busy donating to charities and helping the less fortunate.

There was one party that she didn’t attend because she held a party of her own at a charity that supported the arts. Y/N loved the arts. It made her forget her problems and she loved to see other people express what they’re feeling.

There, she met the man she grew to fall in love with. His name is Timothée Chalamet and he’s a painter. It was love at first sight. He was funny and he was passionate about his art. The only thing running through her mind was introducing him to her family. She knew that they’d criticize him, but she didn’t care. He was the only one that mattered.

We can’t always get what we want and Y/N learned that when Tom told her that she was arranged to marry his best friend, Harrison Osterfield. Tom told her one night at a party. She didn’t have any schedule at a charity event that night and she figured she should go to at least one party.

“You want me to marry your best friend?” She asked Tom as she watched him take a sip of the expensive champagne. Tom smiled and nodded, “It’s for the partnership and we’ll be richer than ever if you marry him! That’s our goal, Y/N.”

“We already have enormous wealth. I’m pretty sure we have enough to last our family a lifetime; enough for the next generations! There are other people who need it more than we do. I feel like we’re robbing them of their opportunity to have money. Think about it: if we keep getting rich and if we keep getting money, there won’t be enough money left for the less fortunate.” Y/N explained thoroughly.

“Who cares?” Tom snorted. “That’s their problem, not ours. Money is everything, love. It’s a reminder of our success.”

Y/N didn’t comment on it anymore. She just excused herself and went outside for fresh air. She took out her phone and called Timothée or Timmy for short. Timmy picked up on the first ring and she smiled when she heard his voice.

She told him all about her conversation with Tom and Timmy laughed, “Wanna get out of there? I’ll pick you up. I was meaning to go out, anyway.”

“That’ll be nice, actually. I’ll just tell them that-”

“Break the rules a bit. Loosen up, Y/N. Trust me, they won’t even notice that you’re gone. I bet there’s hundreds of people at the party.” Timmy said.

“Fine, I won’t tell them where I’ll go. But you have to pick me up now. I’m bored.” She giggled and told him the address and soon, Timmy pulled up in front of the venue. His old car stood out like a sore thumb and he felt kind of insecure, but he shrugged it off when Y/N got in his car. He really liked her and it breaks his heart knowing that he couldn’t give her everything in the world.

Timmy didn’t have the same lifestyle as her. He’s a broke artist with dreams of going to Paris. He knew Y/N could go to Paris in an instant and he envied that because he’s been saving up for Paris for a long time and now it still wasn’t enough.

“So, where are we going?” Y/N asked as she put on her seatbelt. Timmy drove away from the venue and shrugged, “Where do you want to go?”

“I’m kind of hungry.” She said.

“I can’t take you to anywhere fancy because I haven’t been anywhere fancy. But if you want to try cheap food that tastes delicious, I have a few in mind.” Timmy said, his eyes not leaving the road.

“Let’s do it.” Y/N said, making Timmy glance at her in shock. “I haven’t tried cheap food before and this’ll be a first.”

“Wow! The rich kid wants to experience a poor life for a while. I’m speechless.” Timmy said, amused. Y/N shrugged, “There’s no harm in trying new things.”

“That’s true.” Timmy nodded and quickly drove to his favorite cheap food place. Y/N nearly bought everything from the menu and she suggested that they should eat it at Timmy’s apartment.

Y/N and Timmy arrived at his apartment with multiple paper bags of food in their hands. They entered the apartment and Timmy sighed in content, “Welcome to my humble abode! I know it’s probably the size of your storage room or whatever, but it’s home.”

Timmy kicked off his shoes and made himself comfortable on the couch. He motioned for her to join him. Y/N kicked off her heels and joined him on the couch. They began to eat and talk about nonsense when Timmy noticed her being uncomfortable.

“Do you want to change your clothes?” Timmy asked nicely before taking a bite of his burger. “I could get you one.” He added while he talked with food in his mouth.

“Um, if that’s alright with you. This dress is super uncomfortable and I could use some really comfy clothing.” She said shyly. Timmy nodded and wiped the grease off of his hands on the tissue before getting up from the couch to walk to his drawer to grab a shirt for her and some sweatpants. After getting the clothes, he handed it to Y/N and pointed where the bathroom was.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I have a question.” Timmy nervously said.

“What is it?” Y/N smiled.

“I know I have absolutely nothing to offer you, but I like you so much and I’ll regret it if I don’t at least try to ask… will you go on a date with me?” Timmy asked. It was obvious that he feared rejection and Timmy’s palms were sweaty too. Y/N smiled and just nodded her head. After a bunch of dates, Timmy and Y/N were now officially dating.

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” Timmy asked quietly as he and Y/N stood outside of the mansion. To say that Timmy was nervous is an understatement. Timmy was terrified. He was so terrified that he forgot to eat breakfast and he nearly left his apartment with no shoes on. And when he did wear his shoes, he forgot to put on socks. It was a mess, but he had Y/N to calm him down.

“Of course! I told them all about you and they’re excited to meet the artist who caught my eye.” Y/N winked. The door opened and the two of them entered the mansion. Everybody was at the outdoor dining area waiting for them. Y/N led the way and when they arrived, she greeted her family as Timmy stood there and awkwardly waved at everyone.

They all sat down and started eating. The conversation was light for a while and then Tom decided to open his mouth to talk to Timmy.

“Chalamet, is it?” Tom asked. Timmy could only nod. “What exactly do you do?”

“I, um, I paint.” Timmy answered nervously. Y/N’s brothers snickered upon hearing and Tom had to hide his smile before asking, “Well, what exactly do you paint? Houses? Rooms?”

“Portraits of people, landscapes, flowers, or just the people at the park. It depends on the inspiration, I guess.” Timmy answered truthfully which made Y/N smile.

“And what do you do for a living?” Sam asked.

“Paint. I sell my paintings. Sometimes, someone commissions me.” Timmy said and Sam nodded, satisfied with his answer.

“Where’s your family from?” Tom asked.

“I was born here, but my mom is American.”

“And where’s your dad?”

“Never met him.” Timmy answered and gave a tight-lipped smile. He never liked talking about his family.

“What are your goals, then?” Harry asked. “I mean, no offense, but you look really poor and surely you’re thinking of some way to get out of poverty or something.”

Y/N glared at Harry and Timmy answered, “I want to become an artist in Paris. I’ve been saving up for it since I was a kid.”

“And how much have you saved already, sweetheart?” Nikki asked nicely with a soft smile on her face.

“A lot. It’s enough to rent a small apartment and stuff like that.” Timmy said.

“That’s wonderful.” Nikki grinned.

“Thank you, Mrs. Holland.” Timmy smiled.

After eating, the limousine brought Timmy back to his apartment while Y/N stayed home to talk to her family.

“So, what do you think of him?” She asked. “Isn’t he great? He’s so independent and-”

“You’re still marrying Haz, Y/N.” Tom said sternly. “Leave him. He’s not worth it.”

“I don’t want to be with Harrison. I want to be with Timmy.” Y/N said.

“Tough luck because you’ll do as I say. I’m the eldest and I know what’s good for our business. Now, break up with him before I do it for you. I’ll give you three days to think about it.” Tom said before storming out.

A lot can happen in three days. Timmy told Y/N that he was finally moving to Paris to start new as an artist and Y/N told him about what Tom said. Timmy smiled sadly at her and said, “Then maybe this is a sign. Maybe we’re not actually meant to be.”

“Timmy, you don’t mean that.” Y/N shook her head.

Timmy didn’t answer. Instead, he told her that he’d be leaving soon and that he doesn’t expect her to be there. He never spoke to Y/N after that and Y/N was lost. She didn’t know what to do. Thankfully, Barbra Streisand helped her think.

On the day of Timmy’s flight, she hurriedly packed a few things and when Paddy walked in her room, he was surprised to see her packing.

“Where are you going?” Paddy asked curiously.

“I’m going after Timmy and nothing will stop me.” She said and closed her bag. Y/N left her room and Paddy went after her. Seeing the scene unfold, Harry and Sam followed suit and asked Paddy what was happening.

“She’s going after Timmy.” Paddy said.

Tom heard this and quickly walked over to his siblings and said, “You’re going after him?! Are you insane?! I told you that you’re getting married to Haz whether you like it or not!”

“Timmy has nothing to offer you!” Harry shrieked as he watched Y/N tell the butler to get one of the drivers to drive her to the airport.

“Yeah, but I love him and he loves me and I want to be with him, it’s that simple.” She shrugged and waited for a driver.

“You’re making a fool of yourself, Y/N.” Sam shook his head.

“What’s the matter with you?! Don’t you have any pride left?” Tom questioned.

“Tom, when something’s right for me, I do it and this is right for me.” She argued.

“Have you asked yourself if it’s right for Timmy? I feel like he’d be guilty.” Paddy piped up.

“Then, I’ll make it right for him!” Y/N said as she saw the car coming towards her. Her brothers proceeded to tell her that it was a bad idea. When the car stopped in front of her, she opened the door, turned her brothers and said, “I’ve made my decision, okay?! I’m going to Paris with him whether you like it or not. He and I are meant to be and nothing you say or do will stop me.”

With that, she got in the car and told the driver to quickly go to the airport. The Holland brothers watched as the car drove away and Tom shook his head in disappointment.

The ride to the airport was quick and when she got there, Timmy’s plane was already boarding. She quickly went inside and went through the necessary procedures before running to the gate. She saw Timmy and she immediately ran to him.

“Timmy, I’m here!” She sighed happily. He looked at her in shock.

“What’re you doing here?” Timmy asked, hiding his smile.

“I’m coming with you. We can start new together.” Y/N smiled sweetly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Timmy smiled and gave her a quick peck on the lips. “I promise you that we’ll be doing fine in Paris, okay?”

“I trust you.” Y/N smiled and pulled him in for a hug.

Y/N has been staying with Timmy in Paris for four years and she never went back home. Until one day when Nikki called her about someone passing away.

Grief does a lot of things to a person. It also hits differently for everyone depending on who died and depending on how close these people were to the one who met their untimely demise.

* * * *

𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @abrielleholland @poguesholland @superheroesaremytea @marshxx @ella-whyte @buckys-little-hoe @harryismysunflower @hollandsrecs @slytherin-chaser @quaksonhehe @lil-mellow-bunbun @turtoix @badreputationlove @swiftmind @sovereignparker @nerdyandproudofitsstuff @pearce14 @theonly1outof-a-billion @cherthegoddess @justanamesstuff @chewymoustachio @cocoamoonmalfoy @peterspidey @givebuckyhisplumsnow

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @sufwubi @abrielleholland @osterfieldnholland @purplepizza-summerrain @euphorichxlland @marshxx @lizzyosterfield @justanamesstuff @croissantwriting @blueleatherbag @givebuckyhisplumsnow

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr @allyz @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @drie-the-derp @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @geminiparkers @holland-styles @calltothewild @fancyxparker @herbatkazmiloscia @whatthefuckimbisexual @justanothermarvelmaniac @unsaidholland @musicalkeys @lost-in-the-stars03 @hufflepuffprincess24 @hollanddolanfangirl @parkerpeter24 @bellelittleoff @agentnataliahofferson @aqiise @lexirv @blairscott @pearly-pisces @theonly1outof-a-billion @u-rrose @speedymaximoff @theliterarymess

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland one shots #tom holland x holland!reader #harry holland #harry holland imagines #harry holland one shots #harry holland x holland!reader #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

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