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#me who chopped off all my hair and dyed it purple and doing all the things my parents said i couldnt do: WHATS NEXT. LETS GO

maskemasker · 8 months

Text

Hello there I made a tcm au were nubbins and chop top are swapped chop being in the first movie and nubbins being in the second i decided to rewrite the Van scene for this au if y’all like it I might make more stuff for this au anyways hope you enjoy

“ dammit how are we gonna get gas now” Jerry said upon receiving the news that the gas station they were at was indeed completely out of it “ I guess we can try looking somewhere else” pam said trying to reassure everyone “ ugh there’s not one for miles” Jerry said in defeat “ that’s not true” a unfamiliar voice spoke. Everyone turned there heads to see were the voice came from “ there’s one just a couple blocks from here” “ who the hell are you” Pam said to the stranger. As she said that a man walked closer to the group he long hair, purple tinted sunglasses, a purple tie dyed shirt and a leather vest littered with color pins “ I see y’all are a little lost I thought i could help” the man said giving them a bright smile “ you didn’t answer her question of you who’s you were” Franklin spoke up “ oh! My name’s Bobby happy to meet” Bobby said offering franklin a handshake “ uh nice to you to” Franklin said while shaking his hand “ hey could you tell us more about that gas station” Jerry said while walking up to Bobby “ oh there’s a 7 eleven just a few blocks down from here” Bobby then pulls something from his bag “ I’ve actually got a map if y’all want it” jerry took the map from bobby and inspected it. It appeared to be hand made being very crinkled up and having some stains on but it seemed to give them a lot of info on the area “ wow yous got a lot of knowledge on this part of town” Jerry said impressed “ yeah I used to love driving around the country with my twin finding places we’s never knew even existed” Bobby said with clear excitement in his voice “ unfortunately my big brother doesn’t let’s me drive anymore but I still remember all the places we went to” “ why doesn’t your brother let you drive anymore” Franklin asked intrigued “ oh umm I wound up wrecking his truck really badly then he never let me drive it again” “ that’s a shame you seem great with directions” sally said “ thank you” bobby said with a smile. After saying this he then looked back at Jerry “ you know i really like your hair” bobby said smiling at him “ oh umm thank you” Jerry caught off guard by the compliment “ do you like music” Bobby asked “ uh yeah I’ve got a lot of records in my van” this immediately captured Bobby’s attention “ you have records!?” He said with pure excitement “ yeah I’ve got” and before Jerry could even finish his sentence Bobby immediately ran into his van and dove for his records “ you’ve got so many” Bobby said looking through “ hey I never said you could touch those” Jerry said trying to get Bobby’s attention however Bobby seemed to completely ignore him still rummaging through “ wow yous got quite the collection I’m impressed” Bobby said picking up one of the records “ I said I never told you you could touch those” Jerry said way more aggressively however Bobby still ignored him still looking through “ aye you need to calm the fuck down” Jerry said while placing a hand on Bobby’s shoulder in a last attempt to get his attention. As soon as Jerry did this Bobby immediately turned his head towards Jerry now with a look of pure anger on his face “ don’t you touch me!” Bobby spat and before Jerry could say anything Bobby reached in his bag and grabbed a small knife and stabbed Jerry in the arm. Jerry screamed in agony everyone immediately came to Jerry’s aid grabbing Bobby off of Jerry and throwing him out of the van they all immediately ran inside as quick as they could and floored the van out of there. As they drove away Bobby was screaming death threats and insults at them “ I had a bad feeling about that guy from the start” Pam said still in shock by the whole situation

#texas chainsaw massacre #tcm 1974 #tcm 2 #chop top sawyer #chop top #bobby sawyer #franklin hardesty #sally hardesty #jerry huberman #pam willard #swap au

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duckingwriting · 11 months

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Find the word

I was tagged by @author-a-holmes and you can see her post here.

My words are: Purple (or another colour), Four, Wind, and Dog/Wolf

No pressure tagging: @oh-no-another-idea, @talesofsorrowandofruin, @late-to-the-fandom, @eponymoussquared, @careful-fear, @mariahwritesstuff, and anyone else who would like to jump in on a tag game with these words!

Your words are: Chop, Sweat, soup, glare, corner

For anyone who is not familiar in with this game. Either with something already written or by writing something new you have a little excerpt from a piece you have written(current WIP, abandoned WIP, finished thing doesn’t matter). Then give a new set of words for your own victims tags

TW/CW: NSFW scene, Blow job, alien fucking, heat sex, implied sex

Purple

[TW/CW: NSFW, Blow job, alien fucking, heat sex]

Halo held his fist in the aff's hair as the other alien knelt on the floor between his knees. Anvil's forked tongue flicked against Halo's cock as he guided the warm mouth. Finding an Aff not only willing to bottom but so eager to please did things to Halo he wasn't quite ready to acknowledge even as dark purple eyes stared up at him through thick lashes. Anvils own hands were clasped behind his back. Occasionally Halo would thrust his hips forward harder to watch them twitch, to see if the other man would give into temptation and reach for him. Anvil gagged on Halo's cock, drool slipping past his lips, but he didn't try to pull off as he sucked against the hardened appendage nor did he try and gain control. He told himself it was just the season. Because he didn't have any Vest'r. Anvil almost believed his own lie. Halo may only be allowing it because he had no choice, but Anvil had been dying to taste the other alien since he had fist got a hint of him on their human lover's skin.

Four

[TW/CW: None]

Beth cursed her phone as she closed it and then dropped it onto the nightstand. She then rolled to her side and closed her eyes. Blindly she gripped the blanket and pulled it over her head. She had nearly fallen asleep again when she heard a strange noise. Beth growled low in her throat and threw the blanket from her body.

"That awkward moment," She said glaring at the wall. "When it is dead silent and your stomach makes dying whale noises."

Beth stretched her sore muscles. A hotel bed was not where she had planned to spend her last night of freedom. But Beth hadn't liked the other options she had been left with either.

A. Turn and fight the creeper who had been following her, when he was bigger, stronger, and less drunk.

B. Call Jay and tell him where she was and risk his wrath.

C. Letting the creep follow her home.

Beth had decided her best bet was to get a hotel room where there were four walls between her and Mr. Creeper, as she had dubbed him, and witnesses. Human witnesses.

What if he's still out there waiting for me? Beth shivered at the thought. She grabbed her jeans and pulled them on after deciding that if she saw Mr. Creeper she would call Jay. He already knew she was not at home if the phone call was any indication, and there was little he could do to her for going dancing and drinking the previous night now.

Ask for forgiveness not permission, kid. Was her father’s favorite saying, with a crooked grin as he ruffled her hair. Even when she got into trouble he had said it so often half the time he simply sighed and rubbed his face.

Wind

[TW/CW: Implied sex]

Sitting up another shiver wracked Reese's body. He pulled the blanket back up over his bare shoulders and curled himself in on himself as he looked around for his mate, straining his hearing to hear the other moving around the small house. When only the wind answered his shout for his mate worry curled tightly through Reese's body. He reached down to pull on the clothes that had been removed the night before. The holes in the pants sent a huff of annoyance out of his mouth.

"Tearing up all my PJs just means you have to buy me more! Not that I'll stop wearing them!" Reese yelled out to the house. Again, only silence greeted him and Reese could feel the anxiety begin to claw at his throat. He reached for the lamp and frowned when he heard the click of the switch but nothing happened. He clicked it again and still nothing. Gripping the blanket around his shoulders Reese shivered when his bare feet touched the cold floor. Goose bumps rippled across his arm that stuck out of the blanket to grip his cane after standing up. He limped towards the door and tried the light switch, huffing when he realized that the power was out.

"That explains why it's so cold," Reese whispered to the silent room. "But where is my brute?"

Limping his way through the house Reese could not find any sign of his mate. He couldn't even call Xaver with his own phone dead and no power to charge it. He noted that he couldn't find Xaver's phone so his mate more than likely had his own phone with him. Chewing on his lower lip Reese cautiously opened the front door.

Dog/Wolf

[TW/CW: I don’t think there are any]

“You must be Alpha Leone.” Kraven held his hand out to the large male sitting with the omega. “I’m Alpha Thistle.”

Silvestri hid his smirk behind the magazine while Annalise giggled not too far away. Brax’s face remained unchanged but both Jax and Arlington smirked at the pack Alpha. Leaning forward and intercepting the hand the female at the table smirked at Kraven’s frown of confusion.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.” She smiled brightly nodding to the large male. “This is my beta, Jack Jackson. I’m Alpha Nikola Leone.”

The meeting seemed to be going well and Silvestri reasoned that they wouldn’t be here much longer. The coffee shop’s door opened and Silvestri didn’t think much about the light breeze it stirred until he saw the pack Alpha stiffen.

Kraven’s chair clattered to the ground as he stood up and his surprised gaze pinned Silvestri where he sat. Silvestri was aware of Leone and Jax standing up and moving towards Kraven while Arlington frowned and slowly pushed himself up. He knew Brax would be planting himself between the potentially dangerous pack werewolves and Annalise, but all he could focus on was the way his heart was beginning to hammer under Kraven’s gaze.

“Silvestri.” Kraven’s voice was barely above a whisper but it was enough to break the spell. Silvestri bolted, spilling his coffee and dropping his magazine. He heard his name being called but blocked out the calls from his pack, focused only on running from the voice that had shattered him years ago. The voice that rejected him for no reason. He had learned he was stronger than he thought since he left, but he also remembered the feel of his pack mates tearing into him while he ran from them. Berating him for daring to be their Alpha’s mate. As if he had any choice in the matter.

Silvestri heard the sound of feet pounding the ground behind him as they gave chase. He saw Roland move to intercept him. Silvestri dodged into the road without thinking twice. The resulting cacophony did nothing to help his panic as he tried to avoid vehicles. When a semi-truck blared its horn at him he couldn’t do anything but freeze, close his eyes, and wait for impact.

Silvestri felt a body slam into his side and heard the rush of the truck barreling past them. His air left him with a pained gasp as they crashed to the ground. The larger werewolf rolled over and pulled Silvestri into his lap. Silvestri struggled to catch his breath with the shaking grip around him tightening painfully. He didn’t have to lift his gaze to know who held him. One arm wrapped around his torso, crushing what little air he could get out of him, the other pressing his head tightly to a chest. He could feel Kraven’s breath against the top of his head as the panicked alpha inhaled his scent. Silvestri let the other’s pounding heart drown out the approaching footsteps.

“Alpha, are you alright?” Clay’s voice reflected nothing but concern.

Before Kraven could answer, Leone was snarling and making Silvestri flinch.

“What the fuck was that Silvestri?” Leone’s teeth were bared but her mate kept a hand on her elbow even as Leone turned her angry gaze to Kraven. “And you, get your paws off my omega!”

Silvestri felt the alpha holding him stiffen and tighten his grip. Kraven’s snarl was more wolf than human when he responded. “He’s mine!”

Before the two Alphas could start a very public fight with him stuck in the middle, Silvestri tipped his head in submission to Leone despite Kraven’s snarl of protest. He couldn’t get free of the pack Alpha’s grip but he wanted them to know he knew whose pack he was in.

“I’m sorry, Alpha.” Silvestri ignored Kraven’s vicious snarl. “I’m his rejected mated.”

Kraven’s angry snarl melted into a pathetic whimper even as his arms tightened around Silvestri while Leone cursed. Silvestri did his best to breath through the compression of his lungs.

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purplesurveys · 2 years

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1579

What type of milk do you like to drink? I never drink milk by itself – I mean mainly it’s not a practice where I’m from to just down a full cup of milk; but also I don’t drink it because rushing to the toilet immediately afterwards is not exactly my idea of fun.

Do you have a first aid kit at home? Yeah but like it barely counts as one at this point. We’ve taken bits and pieces from it over the years and have never really replenished it.

What's the absolute bare minimum in terms of facilities when you're camping? I’ve never gone camping, but I live in the Philippines so I feel like my tolerance would be quite high lmao. It would take a lot for me to start counting facilities as the bare minimum.

How many places have you lived in your life? I’ve only ever lived in Manila and this current city I reside in.

Are your parents dog or cat people? Is that different or the same as you? They’re dog people, and I’m the same. Cats and I never really jibed even though I’m always trying to understand them better.

What's your favourite flavour of potato chip? Original; it’s a fool-proof recipe. I feel like brands do flavors very differently, so like some chips will have shitty barbecue while others would actually do a good job. But since I don’t like the uncertainty of it all, I tend to just go the route I know I will enjoy.

What's the longest your hair has ever been? How long is it now? Down to my waist. That’s usually my sign to cut everything off already. But right now, it’s just up to my collarbones; I recently had a big portion chopped + dyed my hair purple as well.

What video games remind you of your childhood? Inappropriately enough, the Grand Theft Auto series. But there are other games too that I enjoyed watching my dad/uncles/cousins play, like Metal Gear Solid, Resident Evil, House of the Dead, Metal Slug, Pokemon.

What does your body wash or soap smell like? Doesn’t really smell like anything other than clean.

Are there are sounds that bother you on a visceral level? That high-pitched sound that sometimes comes out when you scrape your utensils in a certain angle against a plate. That shit has me sending daggers to the people who accidentally do it, regardless of who it is lol.

What was the last thing you bought online? Just food delivery. I believe the last order I got was from McDonald’s.

Name something you always have in your fridge. Eggs.

Have you ever had to hire a lawyer? Why? Nope.

Have you taken a walk today? Did you see any dogs? Eh, not really. And no, I have not seen any dogs today other than my own.

What vegetable do you really hate? I steer clear of ampalaya because my grade school textbooks have done a magnificent job shoving down my throat the fact that it’s the most bitter vegetable, so I’ve always been conditioned to think that it’s terrible. I’ve never actually tried it, though, but I think it’s the closest to being the vegetable I ‘hate,’ if any.

Does your family have any traditions or rituals? The only thing I can think of is Monito Monita but then again nearly every Filipino does that during Christmas.

If you could learn any language, what would it be? Korean, so I can visit places beyond Seoul and not have to struggle with the language barrier.

What was the best thing that happened today? Something that seems minor can still be awesome. A new episode of Run BTS came out and I couldn’t stop fucking laughing and clapping for the whole 39 minutes of it. OH and the fact that Angela and Hans picked me up so we can hang out at Starbucks earlier tonight :) I didn’t have my car around today but they were the first to insist to pick me up, which had been really sweet of them.

Have you ever donated money to a charity? Which one? NGOs for stray animals and a few ARMY-driven fundraisers for typhoon victims.

Did you have a large circle of friends in high school? Towards the end of it, yeah my circle got pretty huge. My circle had connections with other circles within our batch, and our group also consisted of people from the neighboring schools so that made it all the bigger. I’m only *really* close with just a handful of them now but I do continue to keep in touch with everyone else every now and then.

Would you ever get a matching tattoo with someone? Yes! This has been something Angela and Reena have been talking about for quite some time now. We’re probably getting something BTS-related but keep it very subtle.

What time do you usually go to sleep? Any time between 12 to 2 AM.

Do you have a job? Yes.

What colour are the plates in your kitchen? They are black.

What was the last gift you received? Bea sent me a Korean food starter pack last month – tteokbokki, jjajangmyeon, and gimbap.

What is your Chinese zodiac animal? Tiger.

Are you inside right now? If you're home, what room of the house are you in? Kind of but also not kind of? I’m at home but I’m at the rooftop, so technically outdoors hahaha.

Are you good at remembering faces? Yes. What I am awful at is remembering names + where I remember them from. So it’s usual for me to recognize someone and end up staring at them for a long time trying to remember where I encountered them.

What will you do after this survey? I wanna take another survey but it’s 12:30 on a Wednesday morning...

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moonlit-sunflower-books · 3 years

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do you have any tips on how to include character descriptions in ur story? like, i know what my characters look like, but they’ve all known each other for a while, so i’m struggling to find places to describe what my characters look like to the audience, in a way that still feels natural, if that makes sense

I do, actually! Description is not my strong suit, but this is one thing I think I'm pretty decent at.

1. Context

I think descriptions that come in the context of an action are the most effective. For example, someone pushing long, dark hair behind their ear, or someone's freckles catching the sunlight (idk what freckles do). I'll write a scene below to try and elaborate. Say, for example, Arpita and Kunal have been friends since they were twelve and your story is set when they're eighteen. In the first chapter, they're at a coffee shop. (For this example, take the pov character to be Kunal.)

Kunal stretched his legs out, silently cursing the low tables. They were clearly not designed for someone with limbs as lanky as his - which was odd, considering how many tall white guys occupied the coffee shop on a daily basis, but Kunal didn't have the energy to bring it up with the shop owner. She already hated him for talking too loud.

"Green tea for me, and Mocha Latte for you," came Arpita's voice, and Kunal looked up to see her walking towards him. She dropped the tray to the table and flopped back in the seat opposite him, stretching her arms above her head. She wore a green denim jacket that went awfully with her newly-dyed purple hair, but she had long ago given up on colour-coordinating her clothes. It was one of the things Kunal loved about her: her unapologetic chaos.

She met his eye, and he realised he was staring.

"What?" she demanded.

"Nothing," he said quickly, looking away.

The parts in bold are descriptions that give the reader both characterisation and physical description, while also setting the scene of the coffee shop with low tables. Which brings me to my next point...

2. Character

Every description should reveal something new about a character - especially if the characters have known each other for a long time, but the reader has only just met them. If your characters have known each other their whole life, there will be little patterns they recognise and can point out, as well as small things that they'll realise they never noticed.

Once again using the example of Kunal and Arpita (in Arpita's pov this time):

Arpita leaned against the side of the car, huffing her hair out of her face. It had grown too long. Her mum kept telling her to chop it off, but she insisted on letting it fall into her face in long, choppy strands of black and purple. When she finally got a nose ring, she'd look like a real artist. Kunal said she already did, but that was just Kunal being Kunal.

"You ready to go?" he asked, grinning at her as he threw his keys in the air and caught them again. Arpita held back smile.

In this example, we use the action of leaning against the car and combine it with Arpita's character trait of being rebellious. With the slightly longer description, we see Kunal's tendency to be supportive and kind of people-pleasing. And, of course, there's a detailed description of her hair and the nose ring that she desperately wants.

3. Think About the POV Character

Depending on who your POV character is, they will respond differently to a certain characteristic. If your character is crushing on someone, they may notice their lips and face more. If your character is a dancer, they could see the arch of someone's foot or their turnout or posture, along with their confidence perhaps. If your character is an artist, they could notice ink stains along someone's hand. If your character has ADHD, they could notice signs of it in someone else as well.

Make sure that the character speaking focuses on things that would interest them!

I hope that this helps :)

#writing #writers on tumblr #writers #writer #writing tips #writing tip #writer tip #writer tips #writing advice #advice for writers #writers of instagram #writers of tumblr #teen writer

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chocoladieimagines · 3 years

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Hey can I request akatsuki fluffy HC with a black reader

Thanks 😊

Sure thing! It took me a bit of a while to think of an idea but I got you! I also hope it’s fine that I am comfortable only doing a few of the members in the Akatsuki🤎🍫Enjoy!

Akatsuki x Black! Reader

For one of their missions, two people are sent to a village called Nikkōgakure, meaning Village Hidden by/among Sunlight. They see a possibility of finding the person they’re looking for by infiltrating a local rally, but only experience the feeling of nostalgia after seeing a childhood friend. Y/N L/N is a civil rights activist who has become very well known throughout villages and is sought out by citizens for social change.

Kisame Hoshigaki

- The Akatsuki had to operate in teams that would be most efficient in earning money but also not draw attention to themselves. With two shinobi, it’s the bare minimum to have an actionable team that can accomplish goals.

- Two individuals highly skilled such as Kisame Hoshigaki and Itachi Uchiha are sent to the village, acquiring information about the shinobi forces so the Akatsuki could provide more mercenary services.

- Aside from tracing Jinchuriki, a back up plan was to make countries increasingly dependent on Akatsuki’s services, corner the entire market for shinobi missions and eventually put all of the shinobi villages out of business.

- Kisame didn’t expect the village to have such an ethereal beauty; everything in honeyed tones like there was a layer of tinted filtering added to the sky. As the sunlight sauntered in, it ignited shadows to vivid oranges and reds, giving vivacious hues to the village like it was another world of art.

- The broad days of sunlight allowed tenacious vegetation; flowers seen in every turn he made.

- The truth was that the people could never see flowers too many times; they brought flowers into hospitals and graveyards, used them as a vibrant way to express their love and would plant them in their backyards though they couldn’t bear any edible fruits. The village spent thousands replacing them along the streets and as soon as they would brown, more are brought in.

- “Maybe this place wouldn’t be so bad.” Kisame said to himself but it was more likely loud enough to be heard just between the proximity of him and Itachi.

- “Yes, there’s something about it that makes it look so peaceful. Like it’s ducked off from the world’s ugliness and imperfection.” Itachi spoke. “Therefore, we will not spark any attention on ourselves. We will only pursue what is absolutely necessary.”

- Kisame followed in Itachi’s words as they watched villagers gather inside of a place, soon walking behind them.

- They both sat in the corner of the room at a small table, everyone’s conversation dying down after the lights dim.

- Kisame heard the sound of heels becoming discernible as they progressed closer to the stage. Once they stopped, the spotlight shined on a beautiful woman.

- He felt himself be captivated by your features; dark satiny brown skin, these dark expressive eyes—pools of honey each time the sunshine hits them, as you wore your hair naturally in its born state.

- You greeted everyone with a warm smile and it seemed a lot of your audience has seen you before—Kisame knew he definitely has.

- He remembered you back in Kirigakure, Village Hidden by Mist or The Hidden Village of The Land of Water. He often saw you tagging along the crewman that traded goods with his village. Having many adventures as a shinobi prior to joining the organization, some of his missions consisted of being involved with the lakes featured along the many islands composing his village.

- The two of you have crossed each other up until the point you kindly greeted him and couldn’t help but feel intrigued by his unique features. He didn’t take offense from it, taking in mind how your voice sounded out of admiration and saw your hand raise a bit like you wanted to feel his features you thought as surreal.

- He only smirked a bit and answered that that was the heredity of his folk, then turned the question on you and asked, “How come whenever the sun hits your skin, you start glowing?”. He watched you stare at him in shock.

- From there on, you two had nice conversations but then you suddenly didn’t see him anymore. You assumed he was getting caught up in a lot of missions and became too busy, which lead to dreading if he could’ve been killed.

- This proceeded for years unbeknownst of him participating in the Akatsuki. But today, he saw you stand behind the podium winning cheers from the crowd. He felt the weird feeling of an adrenaline rush pumping through his bloodstream as his heart rate accelerated by the second he kept looking at you.

- He began to space out from your words, then pondered to himself how he followed the code of the Shinobi in order to “kill his emotions”, which would prevent the average from running wild and causing the mission to be a failure.

- Despite if he was able to feel a drawback from violence, he sadistically enjoyed fighting so there was nothing more that could ever make him feel so vulnerable. He didn’t want to look weak.

- Itachi noticed how Kisame stared at you and honestly he couldn’t blame him. But there was something he sensed other than the gravitation of your beauty, but more like Kisame was remembering you. Like he recalled your appearance from years ago and felt some type of desperation or allure to speak to you.

- “If you wish to speak to her, I recommend this cafe I saw not too far from here. Or take her for a stroll along the street side and visit this flower shop with the biggest garden. But do it when it’s getting darker— the time we’re not on duty.” Itachi assisted, much to his friend’s surprise. “Trust me, I don’t need my sharingan to see how you look at her.”

- With that, Kisame left an anonymous note, telling you to meet him at the heart of the village, where there’s an enormous flower bed, at 8. You wore a fitted kente dress with bell sleeves flaring at your wrists and adorned your hair with a head wrap—having the complementing color, red. His eyes lit up when he saw you approaching the address, watching you look around until you see a man rise from where he was sitting.

- Your mouth was agape in shock as you had a closer look, throwing yourself at him before slowly wrapping your arms around his neck. Kisame stiffened at your display of happiness since he wasn’t sure how you felt about his appearance, if you had a new life with someone or if you shared the same feelings as him. Yet, he wrapped an arm around your waist and walked with you that night.

Deidara

- Deidara felt at ease by the village he was assigned. Unfortunately, being tasked with Tobi made his experience less enjoyable than he would’ve liked.

- But he accredited Nikkōgakure for the artful displays of rainbow freckles adorning the window boxes, the raised medians, or by canopying storefronts. The village always seemed like it was in the presence of a clear sky; the sun mooring itself in the blue as if anchored to heaven’s ether. It wasn’t too hot, nor too cold but adequate for the black cloak he was wearing.

- Tobi openly expressed his awestruck by continuously wanting to stop at places. He even grabbed a brochure upon entering which contained a map of the village, since they were aware of often having newcomers.

- He wandered different places to the point where Deidara would be looking in one direction and next thing turn to see that Tobi is gone. He caught him sniffing the ingredients being chopped up at a vegetable soup stall; tasting some of the scooped broth from the wooden spoon the cook used to mix.

- Deidara snatched him from the stand, “You dunderhead! Do you know what we were even sent here for—,” Tobi raised a finger in clarification. “Don’t answer that question. We are here because there was traces left of a jinchuriki, while you’re steady lollygagging around with your head stuck in a shit-filled world of cupcakes and rainbows called your ASS! Hm. It’s like I’m looking after a fucking child.”

- But then, he noticed that Tobi was looking in another direction; poking his finger out for a black swallowtail butterfly. His menacing glare made the male detect it was silent and looked towards Deidara. “I’m sorry, what did you say again?”

- The blond growled in frustration, chasing after Tobi until he caught him and punched him unconscious. With a huge knot on the man’s head, he snored with a snot bubble drawing from his nose as Deidara dragged him by the back of his collar.

- Suddenly, the snot bubble popped shortly after Tobi awakened. Five minutes into realizing Deidara was pulling him, he caught sight of an art exhibit.

- “Hey Deidara!” Tobi’s childish accent startled the boy. “How did you—” “Look! An art exhibit!”

- Deidara begrudgingly turned to his side to see what appeared to be a church with gardened—pruned—shrubs of hydrangeas; blossoming large, globe shaped flower heads in shades of purple, blue, pink and white.

- “I’m not falling for another one of your shenanigans.” He resisted. “Oh please! I promise this is the last stop! Gaah, I thought you liked art.” Tobi whined. “Art comes in many forms. What would you know about it anyway? Hm.” “It just looks so pretty in there. Do you even try to take your time with things once in a while? Ya know to soak everything in? Enjoy it while it lasts? Yeesh, you should indulge in yourself more.” “Shut it.”

-Although, in the back of Deidara’s mind, Tobi actually made a point. Their duties often consisted of violence after the lead of Nagato or “Pain” concluded that the only way the world would turn away from its constant warfare would be to experience such catastrophic death destruction that it could never again stomach the idea of conflict.

- Nikkōgakure had many amenities that it already looked like it was in its own world of peace. There were only a few times the members had a day off, why not take the opportunity to enjoy himself a bit while he had the chance now? “Your pondering silence means you’re letting my words settle in, doesn’t it? Go on, I’m waiting.” Tobi said, beginning to file his nails. “You really have the nerve to test my patience when it’s my decision to choose how we’re carrying out our mission, hm. I bet you chose an art exhibit just because you knew I like art.” Deidara anticipated. “Who cares? Can we just go in now?”

- Tobi rocked on his heels and swayed in place in impatience, mentally questioning what could possibly be keeping the boy from submitting into a positive answer. Deidara sighed, “Fine, whatever. We don’t have all day.”. The man-child squealed and raised his arms in the air as he quickly ran through the doors. Approaching the exhibit, Deidara’s interest in the hydrangeas returned; feeling drawn to reach out to a grouplet of periwinkle flowers. He was surprised to feel the sensation of paper, stroking his thumb on the cut out petals to realize they were made out of coffee filters. “Incredible, they look so realistic.” He thought.

- On entering, it was even more colorful inside; each of the whitewashed walls possessed by the colors refracting and dispersing from the sun’s light. The walls had pictorial designs of contrasting pieces like mosaics but as stained glass. They took on the designs of flowers with their leaves blooming from the lead frame by being painted along each side of the room. Most significantly, up in the front of the main entrance, there was a large window panel of a tree; it’s branches winding away from it into leaves of different colors. They were soft shades of pink, blue, yellow and green. “Truly beautiful.” Deidara thought.

- Then, he realized he lost track of Tobi. Although Tobi was an adult and could take care of himself (past tense “could”), it was more like he couldn’t because of his antics. Plus, he wanted to make sure they remained on track of their mission.

- On his search to look for him, he was still in amazement of the exhibit and found himself walking down different halls. The building was a combination of both indoors and outdoors. Some of the roofs became like a greenhouse; transparent ceilings allowing the sunlight to shine through as rooms became greenery with more artwork.

- There was a imperceptible voice down the halls, so he began to follow it. He was finally brought to another room but it was filled with people. He almost ignored it until he caught a glimpse of a girl. You were on stage, a blissful smile wide on your face while he acknowledged that you were the one speaking. He took a double take once he saw you; your hair is in tribal braids, free of your face as they accentuated your golden features. Your eyes never aged, they still spoke of your youth and liveliness.

- Just as he remembered, back in the days before he joined the Akatsuki, you two were friends in his home village, Iwagakure: Hidden Stone Village or The Hidden Village of the Land of Earth.

- You were a ceramist in the Ceramic Village, a small village in the Land of Wind, who was a practitioner of Hanasaki. Hanasaki was known for its pure white color and the series of fine cracks that run along its surface which resembled blossoming flowers (befitting its name). As it brought fame to Ceramic Village, Ninja of Sunagakure frequently requested that parts for their puppets be made in the Hanasaki style, but Hanaski was already difficult to produce for mere ceramics.

- Masho, leader of the ceramic village and created of Hanasaki, rarely took requests because of this. However, you were compliant with many ninjas including Deidara who used the high-quality clay because inferior clays wouldn’t take the exact forms he wanted nor would their detonation be as impressive. Hanasaki was the best clay he found as well as you being the best person he could rely on it from.

- Ceramic Village began running low on Hanasaki but you had set up kilns and workshops throughout villages and found different types of clay, including a muddy clay in the Village of Lies. Back in the village, Masho and other Hanasaki ceramists were killed because it was bringing the village to its downfall from hugely relying on Hanasaki as a source of income. The killer‘s motive was that it would be better to pursue new art styles.

- But, you survived because you often hung out with Deidara, flying on his C2 dragon (a large, flight capable dragon), while he showcased different explosives and experiments he made. You convinced him into throwing them into the air like they were fireworks so he wouldn’t hurt the tons of life below you. He enjoyed seeing your reactions to his explosives because he wanted to impress you, to show you that your clay wasn’t going to waste.

- This soon came to an end when he suddenly left the village as an S-Rank missing nin. Now that he was seeing you currently, many of his memories were brought back to him and so were his feelings. The instant he saw you made him feel warm inside, like he body began starving for sweetness and clung to an emotional sugar source. The sound of your laughter along with the people in the room ignited something in him.

- “Deidara! There you are. You know you shouldn’t run off like that, I was looking all over for you. But I gotta say, I knew you would explore this place top to bottom.” Tobi said. “You dumbass. It’s not my fault you got lost in here and along that, sounding like a baby looking for his mom. Hm.”. Tobi shook away what Deidara had to say and instead looked ahead to see you. “Sweet mama, whose the babe? Don’t try to deny it Deidara, I saw you making goo goo eyes at her,” He began nudging him. “Come on you can tell me. Who is she? Your girlfriend? Best friend?” “She is none of your business.” Deidara said through grunted teeth.

- He wasn’t sure about going up to you. He expected that you would be mad, if anything feel betrayed that he could’ve used you for Hanasaki clay. Really, he enjoyed your company and developed feelings for you. But he didn’t think that you returned them and after all, there were many other ninjas you made clay for. So, he left without telling you, not thinking it would mean much or have a significance.

- Yet, here he stood, watching you shake hands with the host of the event as everyone applauded you for your speech. “I may be a dumbass but you really would if you don’t go and talk to her.” Tobi chimed into Deidara’s trance. “Don’t tell me what to do. Don’t you think I would if I could. Hm.” “Why can’t you? She’s right there! The gods have chosen you two to meet each other again!” “Would you shut up.” While they were bickering, you slowly walked up to the blond, recollecting your memories of your old friend.

- “Deidara?” His body jolted at the sound of his name, like you scared him or he was caught by surprise. He slowly turned to look at you, his roseate cheeks burning when you were much closer to him than behind the podium. You looked even more attractive to him being a short distance away; the way your lashes distinguished the gold flame in your brown hues, the way the sunlight shining through the transparent walls hit your skin. “Long time no see.” He could only say through his awestruck, expressing his familiar smirk he always given you. Maybe Tobi did hand it to him this time, he could’ve been onto something all along.

Obito Uchiha

- “Tobi” arrived at Nikkōgakure on his own. Instead of it obligating to be a mission, he knew where your whereabouts were and visited the village following as you described.

- “Dear Tobi, It’s a village named Nikkōgakure. It is very beautiful here; there are flowers everywhere and the people seem so happy. You will notice the disappearance of clouds but a clear blue sky, making way for the sun’s rays. I believe Nikkōgakure has made a settlement somewhere near the outer circle of the equator since the village’s weather is always content and sunny—just right. Turns out, I will be included in a meeting with other kages in order to suggest a change in poverty villages or else referred to as slums. They are low income places where people were displaced in from wars. We are planning to be supplementing money and food into these villages so they may rise and expand on shinobi forces. Then we could affiliate our alliances for times of need...meet me at the sun perennial garden. I hope to see you soon. Sincerely yours, Y/N.”

- You met Obito after he was saved from White Zetsu who was following orders from an elderly Madara. You were a subordinate of Madara, who took you under his wing because of your omni-benevolence. Along with his Eye of the Moon Plan; replacing the contemporary world of violence and death with one where nobody ever needs to die, he spent his time keeping a close eye on Konohagakure to find a suitable pawn to take his place.

- Omni-benevolence meant that you had the capacity to be infinitely good and good in every capacity that good is recognized by any sentient being in existence. This associated with embodying virtues that consisted of your capability of seeking unity and being able to join others or have others join you. You subconsciously emitted an aura that could induce emotions; generally that of compassion, courage, peace or charity. The inducement would draw others to you; alluring social attraction to make people feel appreciation, respect, trust or a liking towards you. It would form an allegiance with that person or anyone you encounter.

- Madara observed this and thought he could use it as another tactic for his idealism of world peace. He could use you to align different villages who crossed each other as enemies and end all conflicts that contributed to war. At the time, since you were only a simple villager who worked at an orphanage in Konoha, it took little for Madara to send Black Zetsu to sway you into Madara’s plans. Black Zetsu opted that you were born with supernatural/psionic abilities and could be the aid for world peace, leading you into the mastermind behind it.

- From the moment on, you were by Madara’s side and helped tended to Obito’s injuries; following the procedure of removing his body parts too damaged to be healed and replacing them with limbs cultivated from the cells of Hashirama Senju. Obito felt frightened by the legendary Uchiha but immediately fell comfortable by your mere presence. He felt indebted to Madara for saving his life, along with you and was willing to render any assistance he could, an offer Madara made clear he would collect upon. However, you had no harmful intentions and would often share your backstory with Obito as a way of bonding.

- Being an orphan himself; Obito grew up without knowing who his parents were and was left in the care of his grandmother. Hence, he felt alone in the world and aspired to become the Hokage so that the people of the village could acknowledge his existence. Finding out that you were training your natural abilities by working at an orphanage, made him feel warm and felt as though you were doing him a favor too.

- After witnessing the loss of Rin Nohara by Kakashi unintentionally plunging his chidori through her heart, Obito vowed to do anything for Madara if it could bring him together with Rin and Kakashi again. Now, Madara would explain his Eye of the Moon Plan and imparted all of his knowledge and plans to Obito, taught him abilities he would need moving forward, entrusted him with his possessions and would have you along with Black Zetsu to assist as a guide. Until Madara’s revival, he told Obito that he would act as Madara Uchiha.

- You knew all about the plan moving forward and there wasn’t a single bone of malevolence in your body. Although Obito was technically in leadership of the plan, you walked up to the man while he watched the sunset and made a proposal to him, newly as Madara.

- “How about we go through with the plan in two ways. I would like to go undercover as a Civil Rights activist to create conditions for the healing of the brain as a resolve to world problems and spread more love. To spread a new philosophical idea.” You said. “Look at you, Y/N. Too pure to be tainted by the world’s sickness. You sugarcoat Earth’s harsh realities with the idea that there can be social change. If anything, humans should be wiped off the face of the planet. We take and take from Earth and yet there is not plenty for all because some of us are greedy and seek a profit. God used to be our guide. Now people worship the corruption of money. There is much evilness upon our world. We lust after killing one another. And no one seems to care.” Obito unfolded, his voice almost cracking.

- “Madara has projected his hatred onto you. It is the Curse of Hatred that has imbued your disillusionment.” You softly whispered in his ear. “An Uchiha’s love can instantaneously turn into hatred, leaving them more inclined to do anything and everything in their power to achieve their goals and show their own superiority, regardless of the consequences and repercussions of their actions. I can heal that, I can allege the world in love.” You noticed he became calmer by your words, the pace of his breathing slowed and with the patient intent to listen to you speak.

- You continued, “Love reduces the cortisol, the stress hormone, which alters brain architecture for the better. Of course I agree with you that humans are imperfect, their flaws drilled and fracked into our planet. We aren’t evolved enough to be trusted with love. We’d try to engineer it, alter it, use it, weaponize it. Power addiction is always the wrong route to escape fear. The only way to understand love is to feel it, embody it, embrace it.” Obito stood in silence for a bit, you assuming that he was taking in your words. Then he sighed, “And you have a feeling this could work?” “Well, the question is, how do you know your plan will work? Will everything matter in the end?” He acknowledged your words again, feeling the lightest bit of hope. “Fine.”

- He concluded that you will have to send letters of your progress as evidence that your plan is going through development. Or else, they will result to what was set originally of projecting the Infinite Tsukuyomi on the moon in order to trap the world in a dream, thus saving mankind from destroying itself but robbing free will of the world.

- This lead up to recently, visiting Nikkōgakure to see you. Just like you addressed, you two met at the Sun Perennial Garden; the flower beds of Daylilies, Hollyhocks, Geraniums, Alstroemerias, etc. The huge glass enclosed garden was filled with butterflies and hummingbirds, like an exhibit, with pathways of stepping stones—tiny flowers blooming between the crevices. He felt that warm feeling again, just as he did when he was first getting to know you. He looked at you with your hair braided into dookie braids (or known as jumbo box braids) that lengthened down your back. You dressed in a patterned halter top with a matching wrap skirt and strapped heels, expressing your body to the homely temperature. He thought you looked more prettier than ever, not because of your open honey brown skin, but because of the peace illustrated on your face. It made him realize maybe the death of Rin could’ve meant something. Not that it was good.

- But was it for the sake of moving on? Meaning so he could make room for another? Or so he could realize the inevitability of death opens the door to pure potential that can make you a better, more open and loving person? All he knew was that it all had to wind down with him meeting you and slowly falling in love like you were saying. I can allege the world in love.

Sorry to keep everyone waiting! I hope you all are having a great day and enjoyed reading!🤎🍫

#naruto x reader #obito x reader #akatsuki x reader #Naruto shippuden x reader #deidara x reader #Kisame x reader #naruto x poc!reader #naruto x black reader #Akatsuki x black reader #obito uchiha x reader #anime x black!reader

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gukyi · 4 years

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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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eternally-drifting · 3 years

Text

Eclipsed (Jungkook FF) - Ch.2

Discovering the kings biggest secret leads you into understanding the way he is, and how perhaps you have been just a bit too prejudice. After all, who are you to judge anyone.

pairing: Demon King Jungkook x Reader

genre: fantasy, fluff, inspired by the anime Inuyasha, slight e2l, then f2l, and some angst cuz why not, future smut, oh and a hint of gore.

warnings: mentions / descriptions of blood loss, insinuates d34th of character

word count: 1432

parts: <prev 2 / next>?

a/n: so this ones a little shorter and it’s not edited (nothing ever is). But i have written and re-written this chapter SO many times that this is the first time I’ve actually felt content with it. So... yeah

Without further notice, hope you enjoy this.

Feather light touches skimming across your face sent a shudder through you. The cooling breeze carrying the scent of morning dew, leaving a calming sensation as you inhaled and exhaled. You laid there in the soft, overgrown field of grass, not a single worry clouding your mind. It’s been so long since peace has been in your reach, this being perhaps the longest you’ve felt it. Desperate to stay in this… this realm.

Not having to worry about the usual troubles that occur in you day to day life. The usual weight in your chest – lifted. Never have you felt so light before. Reality doesn’t exist here, there are no mistakes, no judgments, no fears, no responsibilities, no doubts, no regrets!

Here, in this realm, you are whoever you choose to be. Wander however far or close you choose to go, and not have to answer to anyone but yourself. This realm, in this realm, you can be an ordinary woman, or the free wind. In this realm, you can just be.

“___,” it’s so soft, just as the breeze carrying it’s sound to you.

You open your eyes and are greeted with shades of purple transitioning into hues of coral, orange, and light blues. As the breeze continues its dance with the grass, you hear it again. Ever so soft and soothing in the wind.

“My darling ___.” The weight is settled back down. Feeling heavier than when it was lifted.

Sitting up, you turn your body around in the direction of her voice. Her image clearer than when you last saw her. “Mama…”

She smiled and yet; even in this realm it was sad. “You have to wake up now darling.”

“What?” No! not again. You disagreed, frantically shaking your head.

“Wakeup ___.” She reached her hand out towards you, but it was quickly fading away.

“N-no, please don’t. Please, stay here!” You pleaded, but you knew that it would do no good. Anytime you did, it always turned out the same.

“Forgive me ___,” and when you blinked, there she stood again. Drenched in her own blood, barely able to stand, and wheezing with every step she took. The final blow being that she continued to smile, even as her tears flowed down her face, the light in her eyes slowly dying out.

“I’m sorry ___,… I’m so sorry…” She collapsed to the ground, her blood having caused a puddle at her feet splashed, droplets landing on your face. You ran towards her in a frenzy.

‘This can’t be happening, not again, no! Please, not again!’ But when you reached to where she had fallen, her body wasn’t there. Any sign that she was even there in the first place – gone.

‘Wake up ___.’ What?

You twirled around to try and find her, but there was no one there. Even still, the voice continued, echoing through the open and empty space.

‘Wake up ___’

‘wake up… wake up… wake up… wakeupwakeupwakeupwakeupwakeup’

BANG!

You jumped awake, skin slick with sweat that your clothes and hair cling to you, chest heaving as you tried to calm yourself. Your arm throbbing in pain again from the sudden jump. Looking around, you realize that it was another bad dream.

‘Another nightmare mixed with reality.’ You huff out a scoff and shake your head at it all. “Suppose I can’t escape it even in my sleep.”

There was another bang and only when you calmed down enough, did you realize that it was coming from the front door.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you grimaced at the thought. ‘Don’t tell me that he’s here already.’

The banging suddenly stopped, and you dared hope. ‘Maybe he le-‘

“I know you’re in there and awake ___, I can hear your heart beating, open up!” Wretched demon!

Laying back down for a second and closing your eyes, you took a deep breath before releasing an internal groan. Now that you were awake, the pain in your arm was amplified. Images from last night flash through your mind. The horror it was to stitch up the wound on your own nearly knocked you out. With a pitiful sigh, you made to throw your robe on with care to not further injure your arm.

The knocking continued and seemed to only become more and more obnoxious. ‘He waited who knows how long till I woke up, he can wait a few more seconds.’ Grumbling to yourself as you reached the door and opening it just a crack.

Greeting you was the sight of a very flustered and aggravated advisor. His eyes a luminescent ruby and pupils’ slant like a feline, sent daggers at you so sharp – that you’d be chopped into fine pieces. Oh yes, he very much was glaring at you with a scowl etched onto him. You’ve grown accustomed to it. The look of disdain whenever he came over to your humble home.

You assumed he had enough of you as he barged into your home as soon as the door opened. ‘You could at least let me invite you in first! No, just barge in and make yourself comfortable you bast-‘

“You reek of blood.” You can hear the disgust in his voice. Pausing by the door you let your shoulders drop. Quietly closing the door and locking it. ‘Of course, no wonder he was banging on the door incessantly. He must’ve caught the scent of it as soon as he crossed the river.’

As you made your way over to the stove to prepare tea for your interrogation, he turns to your nightstand and begins to rummage through it. You rolled your eyes and returned your gaze to the kettle, too tired to stop him.

‘First, he nearly knocks my door down, then he says I reek, now he goes through my stuff like he knows me. The audacity of these demons!’ Thank goodness he wasn’t one of the demons that could read minds – he’d never let you live all the stuff you’ve said down.

“Found it.” His footsteps laid heavy on the old wooden floors, creaking with each step he took, until he was a few feet away from you. Refusing to look at him, you kept your gaze on the steam that pushed its way through the kettle. The whistling being the only thing that was keeping the room from silence.

“___, let me see it, please.” He did not command you, but he was not asking you either. Grabbing the kettle, you made to the table by the window, setting everything down and gently removing your robe. Leaving you in a loose buttoned sleeved shirt, one of the sleeves having been torn off.

He’s subtly sniffs the air and tries to pinpoint what else besides your blood it is he’s smelling. Once he figures it out, his eyes harden and flash a bright pink before quickly returning to their usual ruby hue. “…You’ll have to come to the palace.” Your eyes widen, head snapping towards him as he puts everything back and reaches for your cloak. Head shaking vigorously, you beg him, “Please, no. Yoongi, I know that I’ve made a few mistakes, but I swear that I have it under control now, I swear!” Even you know how pathetic and desperate you sound.

Standing hastily, you winced at the pain, “Yoongi, I just need a li- “you jumped back as he abruptly turned towards you, face set in a slight snarl, light jagged markings appearing underneath his eyes. Stunned, you slowly stepped back and gave him space to calm down.

The snarl dropped immediately, markings fading away completely. He sighed, closing his eyes and bringing a hand up to rub his eyes. “Your flesh is being eaten away by the poison, which I can now see you haven’t even figured that out yet.” Poison?

He looks at you, waiting for something. Your face must have given away to your confusion as all he can do is shake his head in disbelief. “Didn’t you find it unusual that after you purified the wound it continued to seep miasma.”

You felt your stomach drop, skin going cold. You didn’t smell any miasma whatsoever. In fact, all you felt was pain but thought it was normal from the wound being too big. Now that Yoongi mentioned it, the wound should have healed properly overnight…

The situation only seemed to get worse each second.

“Besides, you would have had to be at the palace anyways.” The way his eyes held nothing but dread, made you even more sick.

“The king has ordered council.” And your heart stopped.

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spacecadetal · 3 years

Text

fireworks

kakashi hatake/fem!reader

word count: 2774 warnings: descriptions of violence, descriptions of blood, descriptions of killing, alcohol use author notes: i wanted to write something a little different than i usually would i kinda got a little tired of my wips lol

the first time i saw him, i was eight years old with a shy curiosity about the world. long story short, his shoulder collided with my own. he wasn’t watching where he was going and neither was i, the hard jolt gave me such a fright that i yelled at him to watch where he was going. i had too much pride to admit i was at fault, lost in a daydream once again. he shared my reaction and my sentiment. saying i should watch myself too with great annoyance in his tone. i scoffed, he huffed, we went our separate ways.

i had always heard his name but never connected the dots until i was much older but still not much wiser. he was a prodigy, i was painfully just above average. as a bright eyed genin, i was out in the world and only starting to understand the true meaning of the path i chose at the naive age of six. his squad was babysitting my own on a mission. his mentor stands next to mine and introduces us and my face sours immediately. unlike him i don’t have a mask to hide it. he avoids me for the whole mission but his teammates are nice.

his red eye was making waves around the world, he was a myth and enemies across the land waited in anticipation for the day to come where they could finally see it in the flesh. great gain had come with great loss, i’m sure he wishes the second hand eye was back with its original owner. i remember the first time i saw him lift up his headband and expose it to the world. the blood red eye and it’s black swirls, chills shoot down my spine like pins and needles. engaging with an enemy was pure violence, animalistic and messy yet he made it seem so graceful.

the pines and the dark forest disappear before my eyes; now he stands on a wooden stage with his foe, dancing under a spotlight. every dodge and weave is smooth and flawless. his strikes felt as natural and as quick as a snake striking at its prey. i watch his performance with a disregard for my own safety and when the last of our enemies hit the dirt, i wait for him to bow. instead he shakes the blood off his kunai and the famous eye is tucked away under his headband. i think i fell in love with him that afternoon.

the girl who died, her name was rin and that one time her team babysat mine, she braided my hair by a campfire and said i had a pretty name. she didn't deserve to die. they whisper about him when he walks by, terrible nasty things. but i smile at him, wave to him when i see him and hope it makes him feel less alone in the world. he sees it and he averts his gaze without reply or acknowledgement. rejection makes my chest tighten, if only slightly. naturally i assume he doesn’t like me, maybe he doesn’t like anyone.

i'm in a village with my squad for a mission, it’s small but the green tea in the wooden cup and the smell of rabbit stew on the stovetop makes me feel at home. the excited teenage boy asks me about the things i've seen. the only thing he knows is chopping wood and shearing sheep. he asks me about a rumour he’s heard by a traveller about the boy that conjures lightning in his hand, he asks me if i've seen it before in the flesh. i smile and nod and confirm that i have. he asks me to describe it. i don't know how to at first.

first, you hear the static snapping and popping and it captures your attention instantly. then the pale blue light grows bigger and bigger in his hand, it takes on a life of its own and i won’t lie and say that it doesn’t make my heart beat out of my chest but he tames it like a wild beast, he has complete control. if you stand off to the side, you can watch the show. lightning surrounds him but he is never burnt. he’s like a god when he strikes, i've never seen something so terrifying but beautiful. he's beautiful. but i don’t tell the teenage boy that and i dont tell him that sometimes the loud crackle of his chidori haunts me when im alone.

when i'm a chunnin, i feel much older than i am. it's not due to the title of my rank but because i keep plunging my kunai into grown men’s hearts and have to pretend it doesn’t faze me to see blood squirting from punctured arteries. i don't see him around the village much anymore. he lives in the darkness, in the shadows but sometimes he comes out into the light. he's grown so much older and taller and i think he looks handsome in his gear. toned arms and biceps and that tattoo on his left upper arm, the one that tells the world where his loyalties lie. walking past him, i prepare to feel the chill of his icy demeanor but i say his name, wave and smile. the only one of his eyes that sees the world widens and the veins of his arms bulge at my greeting, i can’t see his hands because they’re stuffed in his pockets. he always looks away but this time, for the smallest of seconds, he nods in my direction and then he is gone.

when the nine tailed beast attacks the village, i am kept away from the battle in a forest with the rest of the ninja around my age. he’s there, standing by his friend who talks and talks. i like his friend, he always greets me with enthusiasm. i try to ignore the sounds of my village being destroyed and the screams of the unfortunate dying people as i am powerless to do anything. my eyes move on their own in his direction only to find he has the same idea. for a moment, air leaves my lungs and i nod politely before i look away. his eyes meet mine one, two, three times. that night my home was buried under a mountain of rock and rubble and he lost the last person that knew the true extent of the damage this world had inflicted on him.

the elderly lady at the stall with the hair clips told me i've grown into a beautiful young lady and i blush at her comment and insist it isn’t so. she tells me i must have a lot of boys' attention and i buy the deep blue hair clip with the faux sapphire gem. it stands out in my dark hair. it's been a long time since my house was crushed and a long time since he’s sat in the dango store with his friends but here’s there when i walk by. the compliment has me on cloud nine and i'm glad he’s not alone anymore. i smile at the group, say ‘ hey guys ’ and wave. for a millisecond my eye catches his as i'm walking by and my mind plays tricks on me. i think i see his cheeks tinge red.

kurenai came up to me one summer's morning and asked if i was attending the festival. i told her i was but likely alone. maybe i wasn’t such a pretty girl, no fish ever nibbled on the hook of the fishing pole i cast into the waters. her boyfriend looked bored as we spoke and her crimson eyes smile when she brings up the boy with the silver hair’s name, pretending she doesn’t notice my breath hitch for the slightest of moments. ‘ you should ask him, he’s not going with anyone either ’ she tells me and then she drags her boyfriend away. i sit alone on the cliffs for an hour thinking it through, my knees up to my chin as i wonder why she would suggest such a thing. iwashi is pissed that i'm twenty minutes late to meet up with them.

his group joins up with mine hours later and i greet him as i always do. he stands off to the side and plays with his hands and every time i catch his eye he looks as if he wants to say something to me. they say love feels like butterflies but when my eyes meets his, those butterflies turn into angry bees. i want to say something to him too, ask him where his friend got the idea that i should ask him to go with me but the bees within me sting and their venom prevents me from opening my mouth. i avert my gaze and pretend to listen to genma when he talks about his favourite order of ramen.

we all part ways but we’re together again within the hour and i'm waiting nervously at the spot kurenai told me to come back to. my yukata is the colour of lapis and white periwinkles decorate the sleeves and i wonder if i look plain compared to the girls around me dressed in passionate pinks, gentle purples, and bold reds. he doesn’t see me at first but i see him. his yukata is dark grey with light thin stripes and it compliments his bright silver hair wonderfully. it’s the first time i've seen his hair down and his long strands are wild and stick out all over the place, i think i fall in love with him all over again. hes alone and i don’t dare to approach but he finally sees me. he waves, i nod. he's so handsome that i can’t stand to look at him so i don’t.

it’s dark and explosions of many colours light up the sky. i'm so distracted by the loud boom echoing off the hills and the blue, red, white and green lights on a black landscape that i don’t notice he's standing right beside me watching it too. knuckles lightly brush against my own, my chest tightens at the sensation. it’s distracting enough that i tear my eyes away from the sky show. they’re as wide as a possum when i meet his gaze. he doesn’t say anything, he just stares for a moment before he looks back at the fireworks. it was an accident and i forgive and forget but then his fingers awkwardly hook around my own, clinging for dear life. i cannot look, i cannot think nor speak. i hold my breath and blink rapidly while i cling onto his fingers just as tightly. when the fireworks are finished, we consider each other in silence for a minute. his hand leaves mine and we part ways without a word.

every time i see him, i see fireworks and feel the ghost of his fingers wrap around my own. he acknowledges me and we’re rarely left alone around each other; when we are we do not speak of it. we lean against a railing side by side and watch our friends fool around. courageously i say to him that the weather is nice today and he nods in agreement before his friend calls him over. when he leaves my side, his knuckles brush past mine once more. i jump in surprise and tell myself it was another forgivable accident but then he glances back at me as he walks away and i can’t be too sure.

i am frozen still in a shrub waiting for the enemy to pass by. the sound of my heartbeat in my ears is so loud but suddenly it is replaced with the familiar crackle of electricity that haunted my dreams for the longest of times. when i turn around i see a man gasping for life, holding on tightly to the kunai i imagined would have been plunged into the nape of my neck if it wasn’t for the ball of lightning sizzling away in his chest. the man’s body drops to the ground and i finally see him standing there in the man’s place, his lower arm is soaked with blood from the fatal strike. he takes my hand and helps me onto my feet. that famous red eye is hiding behind a porcelain hound mask and he asks me if i'm okay. i assure him i am and thank him, he nods his head in reply and walks away. i don’t mind that he’s left my hand stained with our enemy’s blood.

when i am given the rank of jonin i am months away from being twenty. i’m not allowed to drink just yet but my older friends buy bottles of sake to share in the park and i accept the invitation without giving it much thought. it’s sweet on my tongue and goes down smoothly, the aftertaste reminds me of potatoes for some strange reason i can’t put my finger on. i drink and i drink until half a bottle is gone and my cheeks are red and i laugh too loudly at asuma’s lame jokes. the stars are beautiful tonight but they just look like streaks of light in my blurry vision. i lay in the grass, my head feels light and my stomach slightly churns. out of nowhere he is in my line of sight, standing over me with a touch of concern on the features that aren’t hidden away. he asks me if i'm okay and i say i'm just fine and i think to myself that i'm glad to see him.

when he takes me home, he lectures his friends that i'm too young to get drunk and they reply that i'll be old enough in a couple of months and it doesn’t make that much of a difference. he doesn’t mind my drunken babbling and how my head leans on his shoulder as we walk slowly through the dimly lit streets. his grip around my waist is tight and i try not to say something foolish like the way he fights is a form of art or that i want him to hold my hand again. he drops me off at the door and leaves once i am inside safely. i pass out that night thinking of the ways i want to be his.

i am twenty one when he leaves the anbu and i see him on the streets alone. his nose is in a book and he doesn’t notice as i walk by. i fight the urge to turn around and ask him how he’s going, i’ll be late to meet up with my old squad to train if i do. later when i walk home, i stare off into the distance and think about making dinner and sharpening my collection of kunai when i collide with something hard. i jump out of fright at the impact, ready to snap when two hands land on my shoulders to secure me in place. we’re not kids anymore and he smiles at me and apologises even when i'm at fault. i ask him how he’s been and he says he’s been just fine. he walks me home and we talk about missions and his new role as a squad leader. on my doorstep he says he’ll see me around and then he is gone and i am left greedily wanting more of his time.

one day when we are standing alone he tells me he is in love with me. it is is out of the blue and i brush it off with laugher, telling him he couldn’t possibly be; he takes my hand in his and insists it’s true. he tells me that he has been since the moment i collided with him in the street when he was ten years old. that when the world was unkind to him, i provided enough kindness to keep him going, all in a smile and a greeting. it is everything i have wanted to hear and more. the angry swarm of bees are back and i am stung over and over again. he can tell that i'm paralysed so his lips fall gently onto mine and it allows me to say the things i cannot utter out loud. my eyes are closed and i can see the very same fireworks from the night our fingers touched. when he breaks away from me he says we should get out of here and wordlessly i agree. we walk in the streets of the village and i am unsure of the destination he has in mind. his fingers are wrapped around mine.

#kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi hatake x oc #kakashi hatake imagines #kakashi x reader #my fic #my writing #f

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nylazor · 2 years

Text

Funeral Dress

I cry

Did you know?

There's a scientific theory that people emit tears as a sign of distress

That studies done show most people have trouble distinguishing laughing from crying when the tears were edited away.

I cry big wet tears.

For noone to see.

It's like a wolf howling in isolation

Who will hear it's howl?

No one.

Noone sees my tears.

What's the point of crying if there's no one to see?

If a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, does anyone care?

I iron my funeral dress

Alone.

Tears falling onto the dress to be pressed away with the next pass,

Their cry for help on deaf ears, at least useful enough to press the wrinkles from black cloth

My hair is up.

Freshly washed, products delicately massaged into the scalp as I wait for it to dry.

I'm shirtless.

My clothing needing lines pressed into it.

I have wet eyes

Hurting in the task I need to do.

The last time I ironed I was six

Bouncing on one foot to the other

Peeking over the ironing board as my grandmother eased smooth lines into my dress.

My hair is up.

I'm shirtless.

I have wet eyes.

My grandmother helps me on a chair and teaches me how to iron

Every girl needs to know how to iron their pretty dresses, she says

I do well on the straight parts, but the bust is pleated, to add shape to a non-existent chest.

I inexpertly try to iron the pleats down, only to add lines not meant to be there into the dress

My grandma takes over smoothing lines effortlessly

That's alright, she says, pleats are a difficult start, you did well

I nod eyes still wet

It's a Christmas party and I am to sing, nerves eating at me

I had helped make the punch and desserts

My hair is up, my aunt yet to pull it into braids

I'm shirtless

Chest yet to develop, not yet needing to be hid

My grandmother irons my dress

She has trouble with a line I ironed into it, it refuses to flatten, as she glances at the clock

Noone will notice she says, picking it up and handing me the dress, everyone will be looking at how pretty you are, she says, sticking her tongue out at me

My hair is up

I am shirtless

I have wet eyes

My hair is an undercut, sides shaved severely, with hair on top long, just past my shoulders

My grandma always loved my hair, brushing and braiding it

In a act of rebellion I chopped it all off

Shaved my head

It's grown now and whenever grandma saw me she complemented its growth.

I am shirtless

I had top surgery

Double mastectomy

I am queer and trans

It was my choice

I am happy with it

I still am getting used to being allowed around shirtless

Big purple lines whisper my story without my consent

I have wet eyes

I try to hold back tears as I prepare for my grandma's funeral

It's a scant few days after her death

A private affair

I've never lost a close family member

I am lost

Many people give their condolences

No one tells me what to do

What to do with this grief

What to do with this heavy feeling of loss in my gut

Or the ocean of tears I cry

I struggle with the pockets of the dress

They look wrong no matter how I iron

I put the iron aside and sob

Because I know what my grandma would say

Noone will notice, everyone will be looking at how pretty you are

Tongue stuck out

I gasp out breaths

Noone will say that now

She never saw me after my top surgery

I was a coward

She was ill

I didn't want to see her waste away

I shoved that responsibility on my mother and aunt

To care for her as she got worse

I sob harder

I am a coward

I never told her to her face I was queer

I shoved that responsibility onto my mother

And now I never will

She was dying for a long while

And I was too afraid to see her

There is not a brave bone in my body

My hair is up

I am shirtless

I have wet eyes

I cry

Alone

A wolf howling without a pack

Tears fall on my dress only to be ironed away

They disappear into the fabric for noone to see

Like a tree falling in a forest

And noone around to hear.

#ny talks #death #writers and poets #sad poem #poetry #my poem #poetscommunity #poetsandwriters #poems on tumblr #grief tw #what is grief if not love persevering #dealing with grief

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writerpeach · 4 years

Text

Roommates: Part One

IZ*ONE Hyewon X Male Reader

7813 words

Categories: smut, oral sex, detective! hyewon

18+

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

"Please come in."

The second meeting with Detective Kwon was eight days after the first. Thankfully, you were there under much more pleasant terms, trading being led in handcuffs to roaming freely, greeted with smiles, and offered coffee.

Instead of being tossed inside a windowless cold room, you were meeting Detective Kwon in her personal office, quite the inverse of scenery. Greeting you with a welcoming smile instead of threats, she offered a seat and you sat down, scanning the awards on her walls, the various cabinets, and files as you spotted a small piglet plush resting on one, not bothering to mention it.

You felt comfortable. You weren’t being yelled at or questioned, and you certainly weren’t fearing for your life or freedom. The detective engaged in polite conversation, her friendly tone putting you at ease as she inquired how you were handling the change of being on the opposite side of crime.

Detective Kwon had been promoted due to your cooperation, earning the rank of Chief Superintendent. Changing into a more supervisor role allowed her to command her team more efficiently but still allowed herself to do what she was best at, getting information out of uncooperative suspects in any way she knew how.

Eunbi had a different look since you last saw her, chopping her hair short which gave her a more youthful and vibrant look.

“You look good, detective,” you complimented, earning a blush from the sharply-dressed woman across the desk.

“Thank you. You know, we really owe a lot to you,” she said in earnest.

“I didn’t do much, detective. It turns out you can be a very convincing woman.”

“You gave us valuable information that would have taken us weeks to find.”

Shuffling around papers and organizing a dossier Eunbi looked up and her expression softened.

“But we still have a lot of work to do to take down your former boss. The Goda clan is in shambles. We’ve made several arrests lately, we have them on the run.”

“That’s wonderful to hear. To tell the truth, I was never comfortable with some of the things I saw during my time as a clan member. It still keeps me up at night.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. What you’re doing has been very helpful, we couldn’t have done this without you.”

“If that asshole gets locked up then it’ll be more than worth it.”

“Now, there are still a few high ranking members we don’t know the location of,” Eunbi said and slid three pictures across the desk, two men you recognized and one you didn’t.

“Is there anything about them you can tell us?”

You studied their pictures before speaking. ”Never met this guy. These two were the boss’s right- hand men. When he needed someone taken out, a business shaken down for protection money or anything else that he didn’t want to dirty his hands for he used them as his errand boys.”

“Do you have their names?”

“Afraid not. I was too low down the totem pole to really know them.”

“That’s fine, we’ll work with what we have and I’ll make sure our investigation team makes this their priority. It might take longer but we’ll find these thugs.”

Eunbi smiled. It was different talking to her like this, cooperating with her, and not being threatened to spend the rest of your life behind bars.

“How are you holding up? This can’t be easy.”

“Like I said, some sleepless nights. A lot of looking behind my shoulder, thinking someone I swore loyalty to is coming after me. This is all I’ve known for most of my life, so being on the other side of things is hard to get used to.”

“That’s understandable. The monitoring app we installed on your phone tracks your location with pinpoint accuracy as long as you allow us to. If you ever end up in trouble you know how to activate it right?”

“I do, thanks, Detective. Let’s hope I never have to.”

“Yes, let’s hope. The sooner we can get these scumbags off the streets, the better we’ll all be.”

There was a sudden knock on the door that broke the tension.

“Come in!” Eunbi said.

The door gently swung open and in walked a petite girl, blue mixed into her dark bobbed hairstyle. “Sorry to barge in, boss.”

“It’s quite alright, Detective Miyawaki. You wouldn’t interrupt without a good reason.”

“We’ve got new leads on potential suspects. A stolen vehicle was spotted downtown in an abandoned warehouse, it appears it was used in last month’s weapon smuggling ring that was shut down.”

“And you’re sure they’re still there?”

“According to our surveillance, no cars have been in or out of the warehouse all day. There could be underground tunnels but that’s highly unlikely given the layout of the building .”

“Excellent work, Detective. Put out an APB immediately.”

“Right away, boss.”

The young girl bowed politely and left the room.

“We’re getting closer with each day thanks to you,” she said with a mild sense of relief in her voice.

“You have a good team here it seems.”

“It gets pretty stressful but they’re wonderful and I couldn’t do my job without them. Between forensics, our investigation team, and our computer analysts, there's about twelve of us working non-stop.”

“Impressive.”

“Now, I do need to talk to you about the security detail we promised you.”

“What about it?”

“As you can tell, we’re swamped. We need all the men and women we have working around the clock. At this moment we don’t have the resources to monitor who may be looking to harm you. We’re looking into a third-party security service to protect you but getting approval at a time like this is no easy task.”

“That’s really quite alright. I don’t leave my house much these days, and I have cameras all over my house.”

“No, it’s not, it was part of our terms and I won’t fall back on it. I can offer you an alternative, your safety is a necessity not just as part of our case against the Goda clan.”

“An alternative?”

“Yes,” she responded, pushing a button on the black phone on her desk. “Detective Kang, can you come to my office, please?”

Seconds after the door opened, and in walked an incredibly attractive woman with purple-dyed hair tied in a loose ponytail, dressed formally in a white shirt and gray jacket and almost as busty as Detective Kwon. She took a seat in the wooden chair next to you.

“This is the guy, Detective Kang.”

“Ah, so you’re the reason why we’re putting all these jackoffs in prison? It’s very nice to meet you,” she said, extending her hand and shaking yours gently.

“Nice to meet you too, Detective.”

“Oh, you can just call me Hyewon,” she said with a shy smile.

“You see Detective Hyewon is the second-best detective here. She works really hard, she’ll be sure to surpass me soon.”

“That’s not likely boss. Nobody can interrogate like you can.”

Eunbi proudly smiled and quickly changed the subject. “Now, while we’re unable to offer you the protection we promised, we have an offer that’s a bit unorthodox.”

“How so?” you said with a puzzled look.

Hyewon spoke up. “We can’t monitor you 24/7 at this time but in lieu, I can offer you a safe place to stay.”

You furrowed an eyebrow in confusion.

“As I said, it’s a bit unorthodox but given the situation, we believe it’s a good compromise,” Eunbi said.

“You see, I have a spare bedroom that’s just collecting dust. Equipped with the latest home automation, reinforced windows, and a 24/7 monitoring system. My house is very secure and located away from all major parts of the city.“

“That’s a generous offer but I don’t need a babysitter.”

Eunbi laughed. “We’re not saying you do. These men are out for blood and we don’t know who might show up to confront you. Like you said you don’t get out much and Hyewon can do most of her investigative work from home. It’s a temporary solution, you shouldn’t be there for more than a month.”

“Along with my elite detective skills I spent two years in culinary school, I can cook as well as I can catch criminals,” Hyewon added nonchalantly.

“We won’t force you to live there of course, but you would be safer than at your own home.”

The two detectives looked at you, anticipating your answer. You gave it a moment to ponder over.

“I’ll give it a shot.”

“Thank you. Your safety is our number one priority.”

✦✦

Moving to a new place even temporarily with someone who was a complete stranger was a bit awkward, to say the least. You only brought essential items over to Hyewon’s place, surprised by how large it was and grateful for two separate bathrooms.

It was an understatement to say it was strange living with a beautiful woman you had just met. It took an entire week to adjust to the complicated situation, but each day that passed you both opened up little by little. It turns out Hyewon wasn’t lying, she was a fantastic cook and you had a multitude of things you shared in common.

The first week went by quicker than expected. Awkward exchanges of quiet good mornings gradually turned into full conversations, sharing stories of being on opposing sides.

Hyewon had plenty of tales to share of her short two year career - ranging from month-long investigations to chasing after suspects, to seeing a dead body for the first time. Hyewon shared the unexpected frustrations of being considered the prettiest woman in the station and having to prove that she wasn’t hired for just a pretty face.

After helping her clean up the intricate feast that was a most delicious breakfast, she took a seat on one of the kitchen island stools, refilling her coffee.

“I have to head into the office today to help out our team with some investigations. I’ll be working late most likely. You have both of our numbers if you need anything though, okay?”

“I’m not a puppy, I can survive one night,” you teased.

“I know, I wasn’t insinuating you were...” Hyewon replied as her awkwardness returned, her embarrassment strangely cute.

“The fridge is full of groceries but I didn’t have time to cook anything, sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not that bad a cook myself, It’ll be fine. I’ll hold down the fort.”

“Okay. Call if you need anything.”

✦✦

Hyewon’s spacious two-bedroom house felt rather lonely without her in it. You caught yourself talking a little too much to her living room virtual assistant, the eerily human voice being the only human contact you had that night meant it was time for something else.

Heading to the fridge to grab a soda you conducted your own investigation of your own, having free rein of the house you gave every room except her bedroom a look, well decorated with light red and pinks everywhere.

After watching a couple hours of tv and making a quick meal you decided to sleep early. In the morning Eunbi wanted you to come in and sign a few affidavits and you wanted to be fully prepared for that process.

When you woke up that morning something felt different. You didn’t quite know what time it was, but judging through the light shining through the sheer black curtains of your room it had to be at least 6 a.m.

As you struggled to adjust to consciousness, you couldn’t help realize the obvious weight and pressure on your body. Your vision cleared, and the unmistakable purple hair snuggled against your chest belonged to a feminine figure that could only belong to one woman. Hyewon.

While you enjoyed the comforting warmth of her body, you weren't sure what she was doing on top of you. She felt your movements and stirred awake and you were about to get your answer.

Hyewon lifted her head off of your chest, realizing where she was but not looking any less confused.

"Good morning?" you said, just as confused as her.

"H-hi…” she sleepily said. “I can explain…I think..."

"Take your time," you said.

Hyewon gathered herself and laid down beside you flat on her stomach.

"We had a late night and we didn't get much done yesterday. Our leads ended up as dead ends, so I didn't get home until around 2 am."

"Sounds rough."

"I washed up and going to my own bed seemed so lonely, and your door was open and well...your bed looked so welcoming and inviting. I only laid down for a few minutes but I guess I fell asleep and ended up on top of you and so here we are."

“Sure was an interesting way to wake up.”

"I'm so sorry,” she said as she buried her face in her hands.

“It’s not that big of a deal, Hyewon. It’s all cleared up now so I understand. I’m just sorry I woke you.”

"You didn't wake me. Well, part of you did but.."

She hesitated. "I felt something poking me when I was on top of you," Hyewon blushed.

"Oh god. Now I'm the one who should be sorry."

Hyewon giggled. "Is this the famous morning wood I've heard about? There's nothing to be sorry for..."

"Have you not-"

"Had sex before? I'm not a virgin, I've just never slept with a man before.”

“I see. Do you not like men?”

“I”m not against sleeping with men, I just haven’t had good experiences. Women are gentle and their skin is so soft and they smell amazing.”

“All of that is definitely true.”

“I’m just picky I guess. Meanwhile, Eunbi will sleep with anyone who will put their head between her thighs.”

“I bet that’s a very long line of people.”

“It is. I was at the top of it.”

“You were?”

“She...she was my first. I’ve only slept with a few women after her, and we still fool around from time to time when work doesn’t keep us busy.”

“And here I thought my morning wood was over.”

Hyewon blushed and covered her mouth, hiding against the mattress.

"I'm really sorry, I-"

"There's nothing to be sorry for. It happens…” you said embarrassed.

“I just like having someone to talk to in the morning,” Hyewon said.

“I do too.”

“Would you be okay…” she hesitated.

“With sharing the bed? I don’t mind.” you interrupted. “It’s plenty big for two people.”

“No I-I mean if y-you don’t want-”

“I don’t mind at all, Hyewon.”

Hyewon paused. “I probably snore though. And some days I’d have to get up before you do, I’d hate to wake you. “

“I’m a really heavy sleeper,” you said, trying to deflect her excuses.

“If you really don’t mind, then I’ll sleep here too. My room does get rather lonely…”

Sharing a smile, the thought of sharing a bed with Hyewon made your sudden arrangement more enjoyable.

“I can sleep away from you or put the pillow on the other side of the bed.”

“No, that’s not necessary. Just sleep how you always do.”

“Okay,” you agreed, settling your agreement.

If Hyewon snored in her sleep, you never once heard her. Keeping things casual, you told each other good night and good morning, sometimes both and sometimes neither depending on if your schedules met up.

Hyewon’s sleep attire went from long sleeve pajamas and pants, and as she became more comfortable with the situation she herself became more comfortable and more casual.

Ditching pajama pants for shorts, long sleeves to tank-tops, and eventually settling on oversized shirts enough to cover her up. Except for the time it didn't and you got a glimpse of her cute butt and the black pair of boyshorts underwear she didn’t know she was showing off.

You had reached the third week of living with Hyewon, and you were as comfortable with her as being in your own skin. Sharing a bed wasn’t as complicated as you thought, although there certainly were moments where a leg brushed up against your own and vice versa. Avoiding physical contact completely was impossible though and you didn’t think much about it.

“Good morning,” Hyewon sat as she sat up, yawning widely and stretching her arms high up. You turned your head to the side to greet her.

“Morning. Heading into work today?” you asked sleepily.

Hyewon shook her head and messy violet hair went everywhere. “Eunbi has a bunch of interrogations scheduled, so unless she needs me for something I’m staying here.”

“A nice relaxing morning then.”

“Mhmm. Want breakfast?” she asked, throwing her side of the covers off and standing up, doing a quick stretching routine.

“Breakfast sounds great.”

Lifting your head up you realized you weren’t the only thing that had woken up, gritting your teeth and laying your head back down.

“I’ll...meet you at the table.”

“Morning wood again?” she teased.

“Yeah...You know too much about me now.”

You were more than thankful the blankets weren’t thin. You waited for Hyewon to leave the room so you could make a beeline for the bathroom, but instead, you saw the wheels turning in her head.

“Do you want me to help?” she asked as innocently as she had just asked about breakfast. You nearly choked.

“Help…? You repeated, making sure you weren’t hearing things.

“You’re always hard in the morning. I’ve felt it poking me in the back, and I know how annoying it must be to wake up throbbing like that.”

“H-hyewon I-”

“It’s not a big deal,” she smiled as she threw herself at the covers.

You still couldn’t believe it.

“I’ve jerked off a guy before. He finished in like twenty seconds so I never got to enjoy it.”

“You’re that good, huh?”

“I’m definitely not,” she laughed.

She tossed the covers off, leaving the sight of you pitching a tent through your boxers in plain sight.

“You poor thing,” she said as she stared at the huge bulge poking through your underwear. She took a breath as she grabbed the top of your boxers and slowly pulled them down, revealing your needy cock that throbbed as it was released.

Her eyes went wide. “You’re really big,” she said, not wasting time as she wrapped her slim fingers around your length, forming a tight fist and began slowly stroking.

You moaned at her touch. Her hand was cold which brought a different yet pleasurable type of sensation. “Hard like a rock,” she smiled as she continued pumping and you quickly began leaking all over her fingers. For someone inexperienced, it felt good, but you’d have to try really hard to screw up a handjob.

Hyewon looked at the clear liquid coating her fingers with a curious look.

“So much precum,” she said innocently as she licked one of her fingers clean, waiting a second to form an opinion.

“It tastes good.”

“The real thing tastes better.”

She blushed. Tightening her grip, she quickened her strokes as she settled on a rhythm and looked up.

“Does this feel good?”

“It feels great.”

Hyewon’s innocent eyes as she jerked you off was such a bold contrast. The last woman who had touched you was Eunbi, a master of teasing and anticipation. Hyewon’s straight to the point was a nice change.

“How long does it usually take?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“To cum?”

“Yes.”

“It depends on a lot of things. Who’s doing it, what they’re doing, how they’re doing it…”

“Am I not doing a good job? You didn’t cum yet,” she said, feeling concerned.

“No, you’re doing great. There’s not a lot of stimulation with a handjob, so unless you really know what you’re doing it’s gonna take a while.”

“Anything I can do to make it feel better?”

“Do you have any lube?” Hyewon shook her head disappointed.

“That’s fine. You can spit on it.”

Hyewon listened and did as told, letting saliva drip out of her mouth she spat multiple times on your cock. The friction felt better instantly.

“Anything else?”

You were already at this point, might as well up the ante.

“You could uh. Take your shirt off?” You said, testing her reaction. You waited nervously.

Hyewon thankfully didn’t seem to mind. She grabbed the hem of her large black overshirt and lifted it over her head. There wasn’t a bra on underneath to cover up her pale chest. She had the same pair of underwear you had seen that one time. Her breasts were big, not as big as Eunbi, but still sizable and the perfect shape with perfect pink nipples. Her stomach was toned and tight, Hyewon’s body was downright delicious.

“Holy shit.”

Hyewon smiled. “You like my body?”

“I do, you're pretty hot, Hyewon."

She smiled and kept stroking and you couldn’t peel your eyes off her delicious tits. So large and round, you wanted to dive in immediately but didn't want to get greedy.

After just a few minutes you felt your abdomen tightening, subconsciously fucking into Hyewon’s fist, drooling at her newly exposed tits.

“Fuck, I’m close,” you moaned, leaking even more.

“You’re going to cum?”

“Y-yes,” you replied.

Hyewon gripped harder and stroked fasted, encouraging your release with her eyes focused on your cock, anticipating your release. You were almost there, staring at her beautiful tits bouncing in time with her strokes, waiting for your climax to arrive. With a forceful grunt, you exploded in her hand, hips jerking and groaning loudly as you released and coated her fingers with your hot seed. She kept pumping until you were drained, keeping notice of your sensitivity as she winded down her movements to a halt.

She looked on in surprise as her fingers were covered in your stickiness. She grabbed a tissue to clean herself off, but not without giving one of her messy fingers a sample.

“You’re right, the real thing does taste better.” she smiled. “Now let’s get some food in us.”

✦✦

There was a surprising lack of awkwardness around the table as Hyewon served breakfast. Scrambled eggs, both sausage, and bacon cooked to perfection as per your request. She knew you needed a little extra energy after draining your stamina.

“How is the case proceeding? Any closer?” you asked, not wanting the conversation to steer towards what had just happened.

“Things are complicated. We’re finding it harder to apprehend the suspects we need, they’re on the move constantly. They know we’re onto them but we don’t have the resources to send more teams.”

“They own so many businesses they could practically hide anywhere in the city, sadly,” you said.

“This is so frustrating,” she said. “But we have to move forward, taking any steps we can. I’m going to be spending a lot of time at the office next week.”

“I’ll take care of the house, it’ll be in tiptop shape.”

Hyewon nodded. “You’ll also have to take care of morning wood on your own, mister,” she teased.

“Back to the old ways then,” you sadly said.

Hyewon paused as she finished her eggs, chewing carefully as she formed a thought.

“I feel bad. Although, you know I kind of liked it.”

“Liked what?”

“I... liked jerking you off. Feeling how hard you were, hearing you moan when I touched you. I felt something...seeing you throbbing when I made you cum.”

Hyewon’s typical blank expression morphed into a deadly smirk.

“I can see why Eunbi likes her job so much. That feeling of control is just...intoxicating.”

“Do you like taking control, Hyewon?” you asked.

“In my job absolutely not. But in the bedroom...I don’t know yet. Maybe.”

“We’ll have to do some investigating then.”

“Guess we will.”

✦✦

You didn't see much of Hyewon that week as expected. Your sleep schedules never synced and you ended up fast asleep alone before her, usually waking up to an empty bed.

"Long day?"

"Long week."

Hyewon didn't follow up on the conversation that night, drifting away to sleep. Over the weeks of becoming familiar with each other, you had gotten closer with Hyewon, both figuratively and literally. There was something that was never spoken about but you often woke up with an arm or leg draped over your body, or her chest pinned to your back. You certainly didn't mind the welcome intimacy.

During a rather peaceful sleep, you felt something jolt you up.

"Were you asleep?" she asked.

"No, I wasn't," you lied.

"I can't sleep," she frowned.

"Too much on your mind?

"I guess. What do you do when you can't sleep?"

"I lay there for a few minutes and try to relax. If it doesn't work warm milk usually does the trick," you said.

"We're out of milk," she pouted. "Any other ideas?"

"Honestly when I really can't sleep I just jerk off. Puts me out like a light."

Hyewon felt her cheeks flushed as she hid her head in her hands.

"I can leave the room if you want..." you said.

"What for?"

"So you can…you know."

"Touch myself?” She said innocently. “I've never given myself an orgasm. I just let Eunbi do everything for me."

"I see," you said as you formed an idea.

"Can't you just do what Eunbi does to yourself?"

"I don't think it would be the same."

"Well, I'm out of ideas then. Unless you want to call her in the middle of the night."

"She'd kill me."

Hyewon huffed in frustration. You were fresh out of ideas and sympathized with her. Looking over her it was kind of cute how frustrated she was, bundled up neck-deep under the covers as she watched the ceiling fan, trying to do anything to fall back asleep.

She turned onto her side, her doe eyes facing you. “Can you help me?”

“Help you what?”

“Help me fall asleep…”

“How do you want me to do that?”

“Ah, don’t make me say it.”

You smiled. “Do you want me to give you an orgasm, Hyewon?”

“Y-yes... If you don’t mind...”

“Not at all.”

You threw the covers and sat up, making your way to her position. Hyewon had on a black cotton t-shirt which you lifted up enough to see her hips. Her underwear was pink and lacy, covering up just enough of her skin to still be sexy enough.

“Can I take these off?” you asked. She nodded and lifted her butt. You grabbed the top of her cute underwear and began to slowly pull it off her hips, peeling it off her body and down her smooth long legs.

Hyewon nervously kept her legs locked together, but after seeking her approval you spread her thighs and revealed her beautiful pink pussy. Kissing up her inner thighs you heard her gasp as your lips made contact with her soft warm skin.

“Your body is so amazing,” you said as you planted more wet kisses on her pale thighs.

“T-thank you. It’s not as nice as Eunbi, I wish I had her figure,” she said sadly.”

“It’s not a competition. I’m sure you have things Eunbi is jealous of.”

“I-I guess so.”

Not wanting her to be down on herself anymore you interrupted her and licked up and down her thighs, painting them with long swipes of your tongue. She whimpered.

“O-oh, fuck…”

Making your way in between them, you kissed her center before running a finger through her folds, watching the way she looked.

“You’re wet.”

“I-I can’t help it...”

You started warming her up by licking up her pink slit, giving yourself the first taste of her pussy, and inhaling her aroma. You explored her folds with your tongue, cleaning off her juices until you reached her clit. You blew a puff of hot air against it and she whined.

“You have such a pretty pussy,” you said, and before she could respond you swirled around her hardened clit, running circular patterns along it before taking it into your mouth and sucking.

“Ahh!” she moaned. You continued to eat her out, tasting her juices and licking everything up as her warm thighs wrapped around your head.

Buried against her crotch you went wild, tasting all of Hyewon’s delicious sensitive pussy, suckling on her clit wildly as she squirmed and moaned.

“Fuck, you’re so good at that. No wonder Eunbi likes you.”

You kept the pressure on her clit, suckling hard and you brought a finger inside her cunt, and then another, curling them and finding her spot immediately. Hyewon’s hips bucked as she moaned loud, as you licked and sucked everything that leaked out between her luscious legs, feeling her body trembling and reacting to everything you did.

“Oh god, oh god! I’m going to cum!”

Looking up straight at her buried in between her heavenly thighs, you licked and sucked up her clit, and Hyewon came almost right away, making a mess on your face.

Slowly removing yourself from her pussy and licking your lips, helping her ride out her orgasm, caressing her thighs as she came down from her high, panting, and still seeing stars.

“Hol- wow. You’re really good with your mouth.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep now?”

“I will...but I don’t want you to go without returning the favor.”

“I’ll be fine,” you said.

“You made me feel so good though, I just want to do the same,” Hyewon protested

“I don’t want to keep you up.”

“You won’t.”

“I can just go jerk off in the bathroom, it’s no big deal.”

“You don’t need to do that. After what you just did for me I want to help you too,” she said.

“Besides, I’m already half-naked,” she said as she pulled her shirt off, letting you see her wonderful full breasts for the second time.

“Now I’m fully naked.”

You felt the throbbing in your crotch as your eyes focused on every inch of her body.

“You don’t have to get naked to give me a handjob.”

“A handjob? You deserve much more than a handjob.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I want us to both be tired at the end of this,” she smirked.

You had established Hyewon as the innocent and naive type, and while you were mostly spot-on seeing this side of her changed that.

Hyewon gestured for you to lay down and you took her former position, adjusting the pillows to your liking. Taking a kneeling position, you spread your legs for her, the anticipation high already.

She lingered there for a moment. Her face stayed blank, the same way it had the first time you met her. It gave you the chance to admire her face, her pretty brown eyes, her cute nose, and cherry red lips, lips that you didn’t realize were so plump and kissable.

“Are you going to keep your shirt on? It’s only fair I see you naked too isn’t it?” she asked.

She had a point. Grabbing the collar of your shirt, you lifted it over your head and tossed it off the bed,

“Now we’re talking,” she said, biting her lip. “You have a really nice body as well.”

Staring just a little longer than you expected, Hyewon’s view went to your crotch.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked.

“You’ve never given a blowjob before?”

She shook her head disappointingly. “Jerking off that one guy is the only experience I’ve had with men. And now, you.”

“Just do what you did that one morning, but add your tongue and lips. Be careful with your teeth though.”

She nodded in acknowledgment. “I've seen porn. Just suck it right? Like a popsicle?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “There’s more to it than that, but yeah.”

“What do I do to get you hard?” she asked.

“Well, I’m halfway there, just rub it through my boxers.”

She followed your instructions, using her hands to create friction through your crotch awkwardly. It was cute how clueless she was about this.

Hyewon’s eyes opened wider and within a matter of seconds before a bulge had formed.

“That didn’t take long,” she smiled and knew how to do the rest. Tugging your boxers down, she left you in the same state of undress as her, your cock twitching as it was freed to meet her.

She did the same thing she did before, albeit with more confidence this time, wrapping her cold hand around your shaft and keeping a tight grip. Using smooth movements she stroked slowly, the now-familiar pumping motions becoming more natural.

Using the earlier example a bit too literal, licking up and down one side of your shaft like it was an actual popsicle. It looked awkward but didn’t stop from feeling good. She did this on all sides, and you directed her to move her tongue lower, helping her figure it out one step at a time.

“You’re getting it,” you praised her, as she continued lathering up your shaft.

“Go lower,” you told her and she got the message, licking your balls with shallow swipes of her tongue, causing you to groan.

“They’re sensitive right?” she asked.

“Very, so you have to be careful,” you replied. Hyewon nodded cutely.

“Put your lips around the tip, start out gently. That’s the part that feels the best.”

Licking a little more she traveled up until her mouth found the tip of your cock, eyeing your length. When she was ready she licked her lips and wrapped them around your swollen tip, hollowing her cheeks as she started sucking gently. You let out a deep breath and a moan immediately, the softness of her plump lips indescribable as they surrounded your cock.

“Like this?” She asked as she carefully sucked, trying to keep her teeth out of the way as she drew out your pleasure.

“Yes, that’s perfect. Feels so good already.”

Feeling proud, Hyewon took more inside her mouth, almost reaching the middle of your shaft as she activated her gag reflex.

“Don’t take it all at once,” you warned. She looked so damn pretty giving you head. Innocent Hyewon with her lips all over your dick, it was a wonderful sight, even the first few inches inside her mouth felt absolute heaven. She got used to it little by little, knowing where her limits were as she bobbed her head up and down, keeping her eyes dead centered on you.

“Your lips feel amazing. You’re a natural at this,” you praised, the warmth of her wet mouth driving you insane. Maybe it was the porn videos, or maybe she just had a gifted talent, but what she was doing to you felt so fucking good. Her lips were perfect for giving head, their plumpness sucking the life out of your cock as her throat made loud slurping sounds, infinity pleasing to your ears.

“You can use your tongue too,” you suggested, and after a moment you felt her wet tongue splashing against your underside, causing even more pleasure.

“Fuck.”

You leaned back against the pillows, closing your eyes and listening to Hyewon’s mouth slurping your dick, her warm lips doing their work. You’d have to train her to deepthroat at some point, but if she was already this good at sucking you off you were in for a treat.

Hyewon took you rather deep, gagging herself a few times before pulling her mouth off and stopped, stroking your length.

“You okay?” you asked.

“Mhm. I don’t want you to cum yet.”

She had a determined look in her eyes and you could tell she wasn’t ready for things to end.

“I want us to feel good. At the same time,” she said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’ve never felt a dick inside me. That changes tonight,” she said, growing more confident.

“Not even a toy?”

“No. Eunbi doesn’t want to use them, she thinks I’m not ready yet. But I am.”

“If you say you’re ready then you’re ready.”

“I am.”

With her expression determined she and straddled your lap, giving you even more time to stare at her naked body.

With her warm thighs on each side of your waist, Hyewon grabbed hold of your cock and lined it up with her entrance. Her pussy was so pink, just as pretty as she was and plenty wet. She carefully lifted herself up, and with very delicate movements she lowered herself onto your cock, both of you gasping as she was penetrated for the very first time.

“Shit,” she moaned, the new sensations so overwhelming to her.

“Take your time,” you said, watching carefully and caressing her thighs. She sank down a little deeper, gritting her teeth as a mixture of pain and pleasure hit her all at once. Her pussy squeezed your shaft tight, almost painfully so even guided by her intense wetness.

“How’s it feel?” you asked. She looked unsure.

“I-I don’t know yet.”

Hyewon moved her hips back up until she was almost empty, moving back down and you watched as the tip of your cock disappeared inside.

Giving her time to adjust, you let her do everything, only taking you as deep as she felt comfortable with.

“You’re so fucking big. I feel so stretched already,”

“So tight, Hyewon. You feel amazing.”

“That’s good right?” she asked.

“Yes. You’re even tighter than Eunbi,” you admitted, not that you would tell anyone else that.

Hyewon braced herself by holding on to your chest, carefully trying to position herself. Once she slowly adjusted, her hips began moving, and she began riding you.

“So damn big,” she repeated. “Eunbi must love this.”

She moved slowly at first, hips gently moving up and down, letting herself feel that intoxicating stretch. The pain had subsided and she only felt pleasure, moaning softly already. Her walls tightened more and more as she took you deeper inside her, leaving a trail of slick covering your cock to aid in penetration.

“You feel really good inside me,” she said, at first not letting more than half of your shaft inside her pussy, trying to control her breathing.

Hyewon carefully found a rhythm, riding with a slow but constant pace, her tits gently bouncing with every movement. You couldn’t stop staring, mesmerized by the way they jiggled, adding to your arousal.

“You really like my tits don’t you?” she asked.

“Of course. They’re perfect.”

“You can touch them if you want,” she said.

“Oh I’ll do more than just touch,” you replied, and she beamed, giving the go-ahead. Running your hands up her tight body and feeling her soft pale skin you grabbed a handful of them, groping them as you felt her tight pussy lips squeezing your cock. You didn’t need to compare them to anyone else, they were perfect as is - soft, heavy, and delicious.

She rode a little faster, moaning louder as you buried yourself in her scrumptious tits, sucking on her tits and feasting on them, being careful to not overstimulate Hyewon.

“You’re so wet, Hyewon,” you said, watching her slowly fall apart. She replied in groans and moans, taking as much inside as she could, relaxing herself.

“I’m going to feel this in the morning,” she said, lips curling as she pushed herself all the way down, impaling her pussy to the hilt.

“Oh god!” she moaned as she bounced up and down, riding faster with all of you inside her tight cunt. You wanted to feel all of her body, wandering your hands around her delicate soft skin as you settled on her ass. Plump and tight, you squeezed it, still letting her do the work.

“Fuck, oh fuck! I think I’m going to cum!”

“Then cum for me, Hyewon.’

“I-I will!” she said, louder than expected. Bouncing her ass on your cock she leaned backward, supporting herself on your thighs as she exerted more energy in her hips.

“Oh fuck yes, I’m gon-”

Not even able to finish her sentence, her body lost control as she came violently, rolling her hips as her tight pussy pulsated around your cock and you felt a wave of juices drowning your cock. Her pace slows down significantly, trying to ride out the first orgasm she’s had that wasn’t a woman's fingers or tongue and the pleasure is so intoxicating to her that she might pass out.

“H-holy shit,” she said, as she looked up for the first time in several seconds, almost embarrassed by how loud she was. Her eyes were fully glazed over after her orgasm and her pussy felt even tighter and wet around you, but she had just enough strength to keep her hips moving.

“You need to cum too,” she said, regaining her senses as her whole body leaned forward, pressing herself against your body and you unexpectedly felt her soft lips against yours.

“That’s for making me feel so good,” she smiled, running a hand through her hands, returning to her past pace.

“Now I want this pussy to return the favor.”

With a tired gaze on her face, she bounced again on your cock as you kept your hands around her waist, feeling the sweat misting across her perfect skin. You wanted to freeze the moment in time. The way she moaned with every thrust with that pretty voice, how wet and tight she was, the way her supple breasts bounced deliciously, it was all incredibly arousing and yet too much at the same time.

“I’m gonna cum too,” you blurted out, words becoming difficult to use. Her eyes lit up.

“Good. I wanna see how much you can fill me up.”

Her lewd words and the way her wet pink flesh squeezed your cock made it impossible to hold on, giving a few more thrusts as you buried yourself in Hyewon’s tight pussy. Lustfully staring into each other's eyes, you throbbed inside her and groaned her name loudly as you began filling her hole up, shaking as you emptied wave after wave of plentiful thick seed deep into her cunt.

Once her tight pussy milked you of everything, giving Hyewon every last drop she collapsed on top of you, the warmth of her hot sweaty body and her weight comforting yours.

“It’s so warm,” she said, gasping and panting in your ears. She rested there for what felt like hours as you both tried to breathe normally again. Heaving panting filling the room as Hyewon used your chest for leverage and gingerly lifted herself off of your cock, decoupling your tangled bodies.

You watched together as the mess you left inside her slowly leaked out of her pussy, a steady thick stream of hot cum the was the evidence of the intense pleasure she had given you, dripping down her thighs and splashing against the bedsheets.

Hyewon’s chest is still heaving, her purple hair out of place as she tried to catch a deep breath. She looked at your depleted cock and the combined juices still left on it and instinctively grabbed and took it back into her mouth, sliding it down her mouth as much as she could to clean it off, before using her tongue to do the rest.

“I’m going to need to taste a lot more of this.”

With her stamina used up, she crashed, her skin kissing yours as her wonderful breasts pressed against your chest as if she were using your body as a pillow.

“That was amazing.”

“Are you okay? You rode my dick so well.”

“I...I’m good. I could use a shower, but I can barely move.”

“Probably be worse in the morning.”

“Then I’ll deal with it in the morning,” she said. Her final words before she drifted off, tired, her naked body still rested on yours. It wouldn’t take before you followed, sharing one of the most peaceful nights in some time.

You woke up restful and full of energy for once, Hyewon was surprised to see you wake up a few minutes after she did.

“You’re up! Good morning,” she sweetly said.

“Good morning, “ you replied.

“Sorry if I snored.”

“I didn’t hear you if you did.”

“Are you heading into the office?”

“Yes. There’s been a big break and we have the advantage for once. Eunbi needs the whole team to be there.”

“Want breakfast?” she asked, not bothering to put on pants yet.

“I do, but I have everything I need to eat right in front of me,” you boldly said.

Hyewon blushed. “You’re feisty this morning.”

“When do you have to be there?”

“In about an hour.”

“An hour is a lot of time,” you said.

“I know that look…”

"I don't know what you mean by that."

"I'm sure you don’t…" she said as she plopped on the bed on her stomach, bare feet up in the air.

“I wouldn’t mind one for the road. It’d keep me in a good mood all day.”

“Don’t want you to be late though.”

“I do have to still shower and get ready, but I’m sure Eunbi won’t mind if I'm a few minutes late...”

“We’d save some time if we just went straight for the shower.”

Hyewon looked flustered.

“And water,” you added.

Hyewon pondered, sitting up. “My shower is rather big, so you’ve sold me,” she said, removing what little clothes she had left on and gestured to you to follow her, not that you needed any instructions to.

She liked the water as hot as it would go. Her body was beautiful naked, but as water flowed down her chest and onto her flushed skin, matting her dyed hair to her gorgeous features. it enhanced her naked body even more. Hyewon came on your cock as you fucked her from behind and pressed her against the cold shower tile and she finished you off on her tits, carefully away from the water to make sure you got a chance to savor your handiwork.

Drying her hair off and deciding on what to wear, Hyewon’s phone rang.

“Detective Kang speaking.”

“Yes, boss. He’s right here.”

“Understood. We’ll both be there.”

Tossing her phone onto the bed she took a seat and finished dressing as you waited for her explanation.

“We’ve made an arrest on one of the Goda clan’s lieutenants and we have a potential lead on the patriarch. Eunbi wants you to be there to give any assistance and make sure he doesn’t escape.”

“Why me?”

“You know the way they operated and any potential backdoors they might exploit. We’re looking for any and every advantage we can use. Your knowledge of their operations will be a powerful ally at this point.”

“I’ll do what I can, I can’t promise I’ll be useful.”

“That’s all we’re asking. Now let’s get going, I’ll let Eunbi know we’re on the way.”

#izone smut #hyewon smut #male reader #hyewon #izone #reader insert #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

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leejungchans · 3 years

Text

— juliet’s hair through the eras.

aka i finally stopped being too lazy to make this and also i’m losing track of juliet’s different hair colours so this is also a reminder for me 🤠🤠🤠

note: 99% of these aren’t juliet’s face claim hwjsjw this is just to give you guys an idea of what her hair looked like!!

as for in between comebacks, she will either keep the hair colour from the last comeback or dye it back to her natural hair colour (dark brown) if the break was longer!!

— debut era (pirate king/treasure era);

all throughout her trainee days juliet kept her natural hair colour, so for her debut she wanted to change it up but at the same time not have it be too different ahjshwjs 🤡

the end result turned out to be a slightly lighter brown with blonde highlights

one of her favourite styles to this day!! she likes it especially when it’s curled like in the photo on the right!!

— hala hala/say my name era;

she said chop chop bitch ✂️

her hair was dyed to black and cut to around chin-length

this was a pretty sudden decision ie. the boys didn’t know about it until after she got back from the salon

seonghwa: “BAEK MINYOUNG WHAT DID YOU DO WHERE IS THE REST OF YOUR HAIR?????”

“i ate it 😀 of couRSE I CUT IT OFF WHERE ELSE WOULD MY HAIR BE????”

her hair gradually grew into a long bob throughout promotions which she also loved!!

— wave era;

two hair colours for this era!!

she started with a golden blonde which she liked but then atiny started to joke about it looking like spaghetti 💀

so for revenge juliet dyed it to a light, ashy brown mid-promotions like lmao sIKE who’s the spaghetti now 🤠🤠🤠

another very sudden decision; one day she was blonde and the next day she showed up on stage as a brunette and everyone was like wtf when did that happen????

a lot of atinys thought the brown was spray-on dye but it wasn’t (she dipped like half of her hair in water during a vlive to prove it and sat through the rest of it with sopping wet hair 🤙)

— wonderland era;

haha turns out the brown didn’t last long at all bc juliet went back to blonde for this era!! 🤡

compared to the blonde from the beginning of wave era, this one was a lot paler so it looked more like white than blonde

she liked it but she really felt the hair damage during this era can we get a big yikes in here 💀

it had to be maintained all throughout promotions so she had to keep bleaching it and touching up the roots to make sure it stayed whitish-blonde

one night during practice she was extra emotional from exhaustion and sleep deprivation, so when she accidentally pulled a small clump of her very damaged, very brittle hair out she started crying which scared the boys bc ??? what happened ??????

jongho, very concerned: is everything okay??? who do i need to beat up??????

juliet, holding out the hair for them to see while crying: HHHHHjonghoimgonnabebaldwhatdoidoHHHHHHHHHH

it wasn’t that much hair but she was very tired at the moment oKAY 💀

— answer era;

so yeah after that crying incident she went back to dark hair right at the beginning of december 2019 so her hair could take a break 🤡🤡

she also got those wispy bangs which she really loved!!

sometimes her hair stylist would part her bangs down the middle just for some variety!!

kept the dark hair all throughout answer era; she felt it got a bit boring but she wanted to let her hair rest so she wasn’t complaining too much 💀

overall, nothing too special to note during this era but her hair looked a lot healthier and also more luscious!! i mean it was also thanks to hair extensions but shhhh

— inception/thanxx era;

another one of her favourite hairstyles!!

juliet kept the dark hair but this time she added green highlights!!

she loved it bc it was simple but still had some ✨Spice✨ to it

this hairstyle also made her feel a little like shego from kim possible so she definitely wasn’t complaining 🤩🤩

at first only the pieces framing her face were dyed green but towards the later stages of promotion she added more highlights!! (not really shown in the above collage)

— fireworks era;

definitely juliet’s brightest/most unconventional (?) hair colour since debut

but she loved it!! after having mostly dark hair for a year she was ready to sacrifice her scalp to the hair gods again!! 🤠🙏

in the mv and during early promotions the purple was brighter and more saturated

but as promotions went on it started fading to a more muted shade which she also liked!!

the purple lasted until early april before she went blonde again (a similar shade of blonde from wave era)

she’s bringing the spaghetti back yessir yessir yessir gracias 😋🍝

a/n: writing this made me think of a few things 🤠 1) yeonjun pulling out a clump of his hair mid-interview (?) which inspired that bit about juliet crying when she yanked out her hair 2) just how damaged is rosé’s hair???? 😭😭😭 she’s been blonde since 2019 is her hair okay?????? 3) wanting to dye my own hair kinda like the first one with the blonde highlights 🤠

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ectonurites · 3 years

Note

for the character headcanons ask, tim or steph

i ended up doing both LMAO

so for Tim:

 A (realistic headcanon): i will stand by this being realistic but TIM CONTINUING TO SKATEBOARD! like okay yes in canon he only used redboard like twice, and once he had his car back he didn’t really rely on it, but he put the time into learning how to and really enjoyed it! i think it would be fun to see him do it more and like i think steph could also skate with him (altho honestly she has more roller skate energy to me but they could still hang out at a skatepark together) i also have this idea for a fic im at some point going to write of Damian finding redboard and Tim being like ‘oh i can show u how to use that-‘ and him being like ‘NO i will do it on my own’ but eventually it becomes a whole bonding thing for them

B (hilarious): other people joke about this a lot but Tim skateboarding around Wayne Enterprises will NEVER cease to amuse me. just the general chaos of a seventeen year old in a power position like that. I think like Lucius and Tam would keep record of stupid shit he does (skateboarding in the office, Interesting fashion choices, the mountain of mugs and takeout containers that build on his desk, his use of glitter gel pens on official documents, threats to pull a seto kaiba and make WE’s primary goals be trading card related, etc) and make a lil scrapbook to give him on his 21st birthday or something when he’s like Slightly More of an adult

C (heart-crushing): Young Justice being Tim’s first friends he can feel real around that he doesn’t think are going to just be temporary. like... i’ve done a lot of rambling about Tim and again we know he’s a kid who grew up going from boarding school to boarding school, he could make friends easily enough but they were very... fleeting. they weren’t meant to last and he went into it knowing that. even though at the start of the group he couldn’t tell them everything, I feel like Young Justice were just the people he eventually was able to be himself the most around, since he didn’t need to hide being Robin. (again him needing to hide being Tim for a while definitely created some distance, but it was very different than hiding the whole hero life from people he knew at home and at school) and then ya know the core four group moving onto the titans together further solidifying this sense of ‘we are a group who can get through stuff together’... until it all falls the fuck apart after Kon dies. and Tim & Cassie have their weird bad coping things. and Bart dies. i think for Tim it would just be so crushing to have the first group he was able to consider being more permanent fall apart like that (not to mention his dad and steph dying around the same time on top of it- being two of the other types of relationships [familial and a romantic partner] that had more permanence to him) and even when people come back and bonds heal, that sense of stability would just forever be shattered, he lost them once and knows that it could happen again and that fear would always be there in the back of his mind

D (canon is a coward and won’t): that he is bisexual LMAO

aaand now Steph

A (realistic headcanon): alright this is kinda canon related but okay. we have seen MULTIPLE alternate versions of Steph with really short hair (future state, that time she imagined herself as nightwing, earth-3) so i really feel like by current-ish canon she’s already thinking about chopping her hair off, like it’s one of those ideas that just every now and then she’ll see someone with super short hair and be like oh... i want that... but never really go through with it (like she’s had some kinda short looks preboot but i think the shortest was like a bob. im talking pixie cut here) and like im imagining maybe after some mission her hair gets caught on something or even burned or idk and she just says fuck it and her, Cass and Tim get back to one of their apartments/a safehouse after patrol and cut her hair in the bathroom at like 4am (yes im aware i place many situations in the middle of the night in the bathroom with friends... [like that timkon fic i wrote a bit ago] its just such a special setting okay) like Cass with the scissors Tim’s holding up a reference pic Steph found on pinterest. it looks great once it’s done

B (hilarious): the eggplant vs purple thing. i think that now in this post death metal world of dc, where everyone’s remembering things from before the reboot, steph should have a small mental breakdown about how she betrayed her old self by rallying behind the color purple (‘enemy of crime and people who hate purple!’) vs how she used to be so insistent her color scheme was eggplant (‘its eggplant. purple would look stupid’). everyone else is having their brains break because of like conflicting memories of their traumas (and she’s got that goin on too, dont get me wrong, she’ll get to freaking out about that later) but steph is just sitting there staring at a color wheel trying not to cry

C (heart-crushing): i’ve seen some fics explore this a little but i think she’d end up doing a lot of thinking about her baby that she gave up for adoption. like that was something she experienced so young and i feel that would just always be a lurking thought in her mind, where is the baby? is she happy? gotham’s a dangerous city, there’s a lot to be afraid about there. Not that she wouldn’t already because she is just a caring big sister type of person, but I think Steph looking out for all the kids in Gotham (especially once she’s batgirl) in some small part could tie back to wanting to make sure her kid is safe out there wherever she ended up. (additionally since she had a rough upbringing with her whole dad situation she just especially is protective over kids anyways. Sometimes I think she might get kinda insecure about it… maybe even question herself about why she’s saving people, is it because she genuinely cares or is it something more selfish? it’s definitely a self doubt i could see manifesting)

D (canon is a coward and won’t) not to be repetitive but also that she is bi i will stand by this

#stephanie brown #tim drake #dc comics #batfam #sam writes

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tk-writer · 4 years

Text

Saiou Week Day 2 - Despair Disease

i’m late to the party (as always) but here’s my one (and probably only) contribution to saiou week 2020!

word count: 1301

~~~ “So… you’re saying he can’t tell any lies?”

Saihara directed his question to Nurse Tsumiki, keeping his gaze fixed on a bed-ridden Ouma. His cheeks were completely flushed, and he had tiny beads of sweat that were starting to pool on his forehead. His chest fell in an uneven rhythm, rising up and down as his body battled a wicked fever. He looked so small and frail in this state that Saihara silently swore to stay there until his fever broke, at the very least.

“Th-that’s r-right,” Nurse Tsumiki stuttered as she twirled a strand of chopped hair. “There w-was an outbreak of despair disease on campus this week… Ouma-kun m-must’ve caught it during lecture…”

She handed Saihara a cool, damp washcloth so we could wipe some of the sweat dripping down Ouma’s brow. He grabbed some ice from the bucket beside the bed and wrapped it in the cloth, then pressed it against his round cheeks. Ouma’s eyes fluttered open, and he turned his gaze towards the doting detective.

“... Saihara?”

“Hey, Ouma,” Saihara said with a weak smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired. And hot. And… kinda nervous…”

“Why are you nervous?”

“Because… you’re so close to me…”

Saihara’s eyes widened, and he froze for a moment in contemplation. He knew that Ouma’s symptoms were different from the others who’d fallen ill; while most of them spoke only in lies due to delirium from their fevers, Ouma for some reason was the complete opposite. Even Tsumiki couldn’t explain why the despair disease was acting as a truth serum for him alone.

Either way, he was going to take advantage of the opportunity to get some real answers from Ouma, as dubious as it was. It’s not like he would discover anything different about the ultimate supreme leader, right?

“Why does that make you nervous?” He asked with genuine curiosity.

“Saihara-chan is so cute… and I really like him…”

Hearing those words set fire through Saihara’s veins and dyed his face a deep crimson. He turned back to Tsumiki and barked another question, his voice slightly panicked.

“Tsumiki! Are, are you sure he can’t lie?!”

Tsumiki let out a meek little cry and put her arms in front of her face, backing up a few steps in case of another outburst. The detective felt pity and wished he hadn’t raised his voice so suddenly.

“Y-yes! Everything Ouma-kun says is his truth, I’m sorry!!”

“It’s alright, I’m sorry for yelling like that. I just wanted to make sure.”

Again, his gaze returned to his purple-haired classmate. It was odd, his face was still pretty red from the fever, but it seemed like he was actually blushing now…

“How long have you liked me, Ouma?” Saihara half-whispered, feeling a little flustered himself.

“Since the day we met… but I started liking you more after we were partners in bio that one day...”

As he babbled on, the detective snuck his hand under the bedsheets and found Ouma’s laying limp at his side. He took it in his own and squeezed gently. It felt clammy and cool, contrasting with the heat radiating from the rest of his body. He wished he could wave a magic wand and make this sickness go away. He hated seeing him like this, even if it meant getting the truth out of him.

“What do you like about me?” he asked, rubbing his thumb against the back of Ouma’s chapped knuckles.

“Your eyes. They’re a really nice color. I don’t get to see them a lot, ‘cuz you’re always looking at the floor. And your eyelashes. They’re so long, but they’re pretty. And the way you always ask me questions. You’re the only one who really wants to know me. And you let me lie all the time. And it’s funny when you get all shy when I make dirty jokes. And… and…”

He was starting to ramble, which led to a coughing spree that concerned Saihara greatly. He picked up the glass of water on the table near his bed and put it to his mouth, instructing him to drink until it was all gone.

“Shhh, just breathe.”

He placed a comforting hand on his back and rubbed circles until Ouma’s breathing was somewhat back to normal.

“Sorry, Ouma. I shouldn’t be asking questions like this when you’re so ill.”

“I don’t mind. I like it. I like you. Will you be my boyfriend?”

Taken aback once again, Saihara choked back his own cough as he recoiled from the question.

“Why don’t we talk about that when you’re feeling better?”

“Ookay…”

He stayed until Tsumiki’s medicine finally kicked in and his fever broke, draining some of the reddish color from his skin. Ouma was drifting in and out of sleep, so he decided it was best to leave him be.

“I have to get going now, but you should get some rest. Okay?”

“Ookay…”

Saihara stood up and made his way to the door, nodding to Tsumiki while she bowed so low she almost fell over. Before he left, however, he heard a weak voice trailing across the room.

“Saihara-chan?”

“Yes, Ouma?”

“I think I might be in love with you. I wanted to say that before things go back to how they were.”

The detective’s cheeks burned at the confession, but he responded with a smile and words of reassurance.

“They won’t, Ouma. Don’t worry.”

~~~

“Shumaaaai! I’m all better now!”

A childlike voice greeted Saihara as soon as he entered the hospital room. He was relieved to see Ouma up and about after laying in bed for almost a week. Tsumiki told him that his fever finally broke for good the night before, and it seemed like he was almost back to his old self.

“I’m so glad. I was really worried about you.”

“Awww, really? Saihara-chan was concerned about little ole me? What an honor!”

Ouma flashed a toothy grin while clamping his hand behind the back of his neck, which told Saihara that he really was back to his normal self. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed his playful banter and silver-tongued comebacks.

“Hey, do you remember what we talked about when you were sick?”

As soon as he asked, the signature poker face returned in full force. All traces of emotion drained from Ouma’s face as he stared back at the detective with thin lips pressed tightly together and eyes devoid of expression. It was a dead giveaway, one Saihara had learned after many long years of friendship with the biggest trickster he’d ever known.

“Hmm… nope! I just remember sleeping a lot and Shumai holding my hand while I was in bed. You’re disgustingly sappy, you know that?”

The raven-haired man felt the corners of his lips turn up as he prepared himself for the next move, playing along in Ouma’s little game.

“Alright. Well, in that case, I guess I can’t answer your question.”

“... What question?”

“Ah, nevermind. Anyway, I’m glad you’re feeling better. I’ll see you in bio, okay?”

He turned around and took a few steps towards the door, but stopped in place when Ouma called out to him. With his back turned, he smirked while knowing what was coming next.

“...Wait!”

He looked over his shoulder and saw a determined Ouma staring at him, eyes ablaze with determination.

“Please… tell me your answer.”

Saihara would’ve teased him a little more, but watching Ouma take off his mask and bare his soul to him convinced him to play nice. He mentally patted his own back, proud of himself for dragging the truth out of the notorious liar without the help of an infectious disease.

He gave him his answer and relished the blush that crept across his face once the words finally hit him.

“Yes, Ouma. I’d love to be your boyfriend.”

#saiou week #saiouma #oumasai #ndrv3 #non tk #just a regular old tooth rotting fluff fic!#even after all these years i still SIMP for these two bozos #i wrote this in under an hour and its probably horrible so im sorry!!!#thank you anonymous for the STELLAR ask that inspired this!!

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lyricalimerence · 4 years

Text

Colorful Consequences - JJ Maybank

summary: jj dyes his hair after losing a bet

word count: 1718

warnings: a little swearing, just friendship fluff

a/n: this is so cute don't even look at me + and this is for @maybanktho for the concept prompt

*this is how i imagine the color, but he just dyes the fringe/front part of his hair*

It all started with a bet—as most things do between you and JJ. There had to be a prize and a consequence, it was just your friendship dynamic. You two became friends through a competition he set in the fourth grade during recess. You both played on the field, juggling half pumped up soccer balls and booting them into opposite goals, not wanting to get in each other's way. Until he kicked his soccer ball into your goal on purpose, proposing a bet that he could sink a goal from farther away than you could. However, much to his ten-year-old chagrin, you won. He had to eat a hot dog from the cafeteria the next day—the hot dogs were chalky and an abnormal color. You, however, got to be one of his best friends for life. He would say that he got the winning end of that bet in the end, having you by his side for the past six years outweighed the stomachache he had after eating that hotdog.

This time, it was a surfing bet, and, as were getting gloriously used to, you won. His punishment was he had to dye his hair, and your prize was you choosing the color. A schedule wasn’t set for the day you had to become his personal hairdresser, so you were going about your Saturday morning as usual—half hungover and asleep on your couch, not having gotten to your bedroom before passing out the night prior. Your parents were nowhere to be found, probably on the mainland having affairs with rich people for money, or something along those lines—you didn’t particularly care anymore.

The familiar knocking pattern of JJ Maybank, your best friend, slammed into your eyes, almost abrasively as your head throbbed from the alcohol you consumed last night. Once you collected your thoughts together, you were surprised JJ was awake, not being the “up-and-at-em” type in the slightest.

Somehow, you managed to pull yourself off the couch, the crick in your neck loosening as you stretched.

“You look like shit, Y/N,” JJ announced, leaning against the doorframe as you wiped the sleep from your hardly open eyes.

“Thanks for noticing, Sherlock,” you smiled wryly, pushing the hair from your fringe falling over your face. “What’re you doing here? And why are you handling your alcohol so much better than me?”

JJ walked past you, patting your shoulder as he entered your small house, the homey decor and familiar scent of fresh cookies and linen febreze inviting him in with as much vigor as you did the first time he came to your home. “Today is the day, my friend. And, in regards to the whole hungover deal, I so happen to not be a lightweight, unlike some…” he trailed off to glance at your slouched frame, the cuffs of your paper bag denim jeans bunched up around your shins, and the thick strapped tank from Pelican Marina that you chopped the bottom off of, was pushed up around the band of your bra. Normally, you’d be self conscious of how much of your torso was on display, but you were feeling like a dead squirrel, and it wasn't like JJ hadn't seen you in a bikini almost everyday.

Moving towards the couch to refold the blanket you had knocked onto yourself before you fell asleep, you asked, with an increasing amount of pep and clarity, “Today is the day for what?”

“I’m glad you asked, Y/N! You're dying my hair today. Get ready so we can go to the store.” He seemed a bit nervous, his hand instinctively going to the blond pieces of hair that fell as fringe over his forehead. A goofy smile spread across your face as his words sunk in, the leftover cranky drunkenness fading away as you almost jumped in the air as you ran to your bathroom to get ready.

Once you got out of the shower and changed into a t-shirt and shorts, you met JJ back in your family room, his eyes glued to the phone screen in his hand, his eyes tracing over the photo he was looking at. His phone was open to a picture Kie took of you two on the HMS, having been in the midst of a shotgunning competition. Your hair fell in waves, from your ears down it was a light teal color, matching the oceanic background. JJ zoomed in on the picture, scrolling between the bright, superficial hair color to his photographed blond locks. “Hey!” You made him jump, as you leant against the back of the sofa, looking over his shoulder.

“I was thinking this color?” He sounded a little unsure, but as a hair dying veteran, you knew it was just virgin hair jitters. You took pride in having watched enough Brad Mondo, making you think you could do his hair just as well as a hairdresser.

You reached over, swiping so the camera app was open, and you maneuvered your ponytail to lay over his forehead, the pastel turquoise color of your hair covering most of his face, “I think ya look great.”

He jumped off the couch, grumbling about you being a total dork, and to just get the damn car keys. Having completely sobered up, you grabbed the keys to your old pickup truck and all but skipped out the door. JJ, being blond, had such good hair for dying. You had wondered what he’d look like with crazy colored locks multiple times, he had just never agreed until you won the bet.

Once you two had arrived at the store, a wave of air conditioning hit you, pricking at your bare legs and arms. Having been very acquainted with the beauty supply store, you walked straight to the aisle of hair dye, JJ following cluelessly in your wake. The lanyard holding your keychain was tucked in your denim short’s pocket, the ribbon loop brushing your knee as you bent down to pick up a mixing bowl and color application brushes. You looked towards JJ who was watching you with stitched together eyebrows and evident confusion. “These are semi-permanent colors,” you pointed to a section of the shelves, bottles and tubes or paint like hair dyes sprawling out in front of JJ. “Your hair is light enough that it won’t need bleach… so how long are you committed to this merman look, ya think?”

JJ turned his head to look at you, his eyes lazily gazing at your dimpled smile. “I’m in this for the long haul.”

“As you should!” A laugh bounced from your lips as you nodded, pulling two bottles from the shelf of semi-permanent colors, knowing he’d want to be able to change it at some point. “I used this dye for my hair, if that’s what you want.” He nodded and took the bottle from your hand, staring at it with optimistic intrigue. “C’mon,” you motioned for him to follow you to the checkout line where you two split the bill and you teased him with the cashier with whom you were familiar.

Once you drove JJ back to your house—after going through the McDonald’s drive thru because JJ was hungry—you rummaged through your bathroom, stains of pinks, greens, blues, purples, reds, oranges, and blacks danced along the edge of your sink and shower from your previous dye jobs. You threw a blue towel at JJ to wrap around his shoulders, knocking a french fry out of his hand. “Hey, I was eating that.”

You mock pouted at his indignation but stayed silent so you could pour some of the dye into the mixing bowl. Before slipping on plastic gloves, you sectioned out JJ’s hair with old butterfly clips and barrettes he used to make fun of you for wearing in the sixth grade, claiming you were too grown up for hair clips. Although, he was owning the look now, pretending to flip his fringe sassily before you peeled the strands of blond off his forehead.

JJ was swiping through his phone, looking for Spotify before putting on his playlist and drumming on the counter with his fingers to the beat. You had to hold his head still multiple times with one hand, your other hand otherwise occupied with a brush filled with hair dye. Once he calmed down, you started brushing the color on the ends of his fringe, following the sections you had created. By the time you had finished and worked the dye to the roots of his fringe you handed him a mirror. “Whatcha think?”

He stared at the mirror like he was looking at a foreign object. “I mean I like it… Do you think we could stop here, just dye the front pieces?”

You hummed in response, grabbing the now empty plastic bag from the store and tying it just over his hair to incubate it with heat. “Okay, now we wait for thirty minutes.”

“Let's watch Avatar the Last Airbender.” JJ suggested, as you two walked into the main hallway of your small house on The Cut. Responding with a short word of agreement, you watched JJ jump over the couch to sit on it, aiming the remote at the screen.

After your phone beeped, signaling the end of thirty minutes, you had to tear JJ away from the TV, him having become engrossed by Aang’s adventures. Somehow you managed to rinse his hair out in the basin of your shower, adding to the colorful splotches on the rim. He complained about the water being cold then when you warmed it up, he cupped his hand under the faucet and splashed you with it.

Using all your self control, you extinguished the beginnings of a water fight in your bathroom and rinsed all the dye from JJ’s hair.

Shaking his hair like a wet dog, water droplets flying at you, JJ haphazardly dried his hair before looking in the mirror. “Wait, that's actually so good.”

“Really?” You asked through a grin, excited he liked the color. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and squeezed you into his side.

“Yeah, it's awesome, Y/N!” He let go of you just to grab your hand and pull you through your house, “Let’s go show the others.”

Another bet he lost with more than optimal consequences.

tags - click here if you'd like to be added

@ilovejjmaybank @thelocalpogue @calumbroutledge @drew-starkey @jayjaymaebank @prejudic3 @anonymous0writer @rudys-pankow @lovingxjj @apoguecalledjj @write-from-the-heart @xxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooo @insanitysparkles @bxllasanosa @fandomsinapile @starkeymarkey @beatement-l @outerbanksbro @abigailpankow @popcsheyward @mahleeyuh @queenofthebees003 @kaitieskidmore1 @copper-boom @starlightstarkey @joyfulfrappuccino @king-ronnoc @ultranikilove

#obx #outer banks #jj maybank #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #rudy pankow #jj #obx fanfiction #fluff #jj maybank x you #obx jj maybank #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fluff #obx imagine #outer banks fanfiction #rudy pankow fic #jj is pop punk king

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tthankstoyou · 3 years

Note

headcanons of glee x the álbum lover? (lover by taylor swift, obviously)

for example, when i heard "it's nice to have a friend" i think on kurt singing it to mercedes when she's supporting him in his coming out or in marley singing it to unique bc she's the one who always treats her right <3

Thank you sm for the ask!!!! This was a lot of fun to do <3

• I Forgot That You Existed - Rachel would sing this when she was finally able to get over Finn in s2 instead of ‘Firework.’ She would open ‘Comeback’ with this song (which fits the theme of that episode perfectly)

• Cruel Summer - Mercedes would sing this in ‘The Purple Piano Project’. JBI would interview her and say “Is it true that you and Sam Evans had a fling this summer?” and she would be like “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” After that, she’d walk away from him & sing this while a montage of them spending their summer together played.

• Lover - Imagining we got episodes showing Klaine being all lovey dovey in NY, Kurt would sing this in s5 after Blaine moves in. I’ll breakdown how the lyrics in the second verse would fit perfectly with them: “We could let our friends crash in the living room. This is our place, we make the call” correlates to how they let Sam stay with them until he found a place. “And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you” is about Sebastian, Eli C, Rachel, and Tina. “I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all” They were dated 3 summers in a row & now they’re engaged, it goes with them so well.

• The Man - Skank!Quinn would sing this. Shes done putting up with all of the shit that the boys in Glee club had been giving to her, which is a reason why she left and joined the skanks. She sings this as a middle finger to Mr. Schue. She finally decided to let all of her feminist frustrations out.

• The Archer - Quinn would sing this after Finn breaks up with her at Sue’s sisters funeral. She would leave the car and start singing as she walks away. This would be one of her most vulnerable songs she sings on the show, she feels unlovable with never being able to keep a boyfriend or her parents. She would definitely let herself cry while singing this.

• I Think He Knows - I said this in a different headcanons post, but I think it would be so adorable if Sam sang this to Kurt in glee club (in a universe whre hevans actually happens 😪)

• Miss Americans & The Heartbreak Prince - OKOK Quinn would sing this when she transforms into a skank, kind of like a makeover scene but it’s her crying while chopping her hair off and dying it.

• Paper Rings - This is the Klaine anthem! Kurt and Blaine would sing this together after Blaine gives him the ring made out of gum wrappers <3

•Cornelia Street - Dani would sing this about Santana! A lyric I think fits well is “You hold my hand on the street, walk me back to that apartment.” That line fits so well with Santana walking Dani home after shifts 🥺💗

• Death By A Thousand Cuts - Kurt would sing this after Blaine cheated on him in s4. He’d sing this an episode or two after the breakup when he’s in the stage where he’s filled with anger towards Blaine.

• London Boy - Kurt would obviously sing this when him and Adan start talking.

• Soon You’ll Get Better - The New Directions would sing this at Burt’s hospital bed instead of a religious song that Kurt asked them not to sing.

• False God - Santana would sing this about Brittany in s4 before their breakup when she’s coming back to Lima to visit her.

• You Need To Calm Down - The New Directions would sing this with Kurt as a lead. It would be an ending group number in ‘Theatricality’ after they stand up to Karofsky and Azimio.

• Afterglow - Santana sings this after she breaks up with Brittany in s4. She’ll start singing this as she starts packing up her stuff to go back to the Univeristy of Louisville.

• ME! - They sing this as an ending group number in ‘Born This Way’ (not replacing btw, I’m forcing them to sing two ending songs at the end of this episode lmao)

• It’s Nice To Have A Friend - I’m going to go with your Marlique headcanon for this song, nonny! I think it fits them perfectly since this is the friends to lovers anthem. They’d sing this as Marley confesses her feelings to Unique in the last episode all of the newbies are in.

• Daylight - Kurt would sing this in ‘Silly Love Songs’ after Blaine tells him that he wants the Warblers to help him serenade his crush & right before Kurt finds out the crush isn’t him.

#i always forget how many songs this album has #and they’re all bops!!!!#anyways lover is probably my favorite album of hers #it fills me with so much serotonin #taylor swift #glee #headcanons #long post #asks #nonny #brittana #klaine #samcedes #finchel #skank!quinn #marlique #(blah i don’t feel like tagging everyone)

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