#For crayon x microphone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sylusjinwoon · 9 months ago

Text

{ 184 }

that green gentleman (things have changed).

single.parent!sung jinwoo x fem!daycare worker reader

{ things have changed for me, and that's okay | i feel the same, i’m on my way, and i say | things have changed for me, and that's okay }

you had simply been tidying up the area, placing all of the toys back in its respective boxes as each child went home with their parent for the evening when you heard your coworkers groaning and talking amongst themselves.

"it appears the father of that child is asking us to keep an eye out for suho, since he's working overtime yet again at the station."

"goodness, i would stay back, but my husband's waiting for me."

"same here, i haven't even picked up my groceries for dinner yet!"

you look back to see the cute, 4 year old boy named sung suho remaining quiet, spending his free time drawing as he surrounded himself with a plethora of crayons. being familiar with suho and his father, sung jinwoo, you knew how difficult and challenging it was for a parent to raise their child on their own.

"sorry ladies, but i couldn't help but hear that sung jinwoo may be late in picking up suho?"

your coworkers heave out yet another sigh. "indeed; honestly, i wish i could stay back, but i've got my own errands to fulfill before i come home and prepare dinner."

"and my own husband is waiting for me as well..."

"if that's the case, why don't i stay here with suho and close up the daycare?"

your coworkers' eyes go wide, with them stating your name in an incredulous, but grateful manner. "you'd do that for us?"

"of course! you ladies go on and head home. i'll keep suho company and wait for his father to arrive later tonight."

after receiving their gratitude at least a hundred times, you watch as your coworkers pack up and leave the daycare, leaving you alone with the tiny boy.

smoothing your apron, you come closer toward suho, seeing a new stack of drawings settled next to him. no one else knew this, but you developed quite a fondness for suho, often admiring his imagination and how colorful his drawings were.

"hey there, suho. your papa says that he'll pick you up later, so since it's just me and you, you don't mind spending some time playing with me, do you?"

suho vehemently shakes his head while flashing you a wide smile that had a few gaps between his front teeth. "hello miss, and i don' mind playing with you til daddy gets here!"

you giggle along with him and press a finger against your lips, playfully telling suho to remain quiet (as if you were keeping a well kept secret), "since it's just us, how about i get you some snacks? would you like some pudding and strawberry milk?"

suho's eyes go wide as he presses both hands against his mouth, not saying a word as he gave you a series of nods.

"okay, i'll be right back with those snacks."

you bask in suho's sweet giggles, going into the fridge to grab a cup of pudding with a carton of strawberry milk. returning to suho, you help him open his pudding and milk while giving him a plastic spoon. as the toddler enjoys his snacks, you trailed your eyes over to the stack of drawings.

"mind if i look and admire your drawings, suho?"

suho simply gives you a nod with a spoon in his mouth. you thank him and pick up the stack of pictures, tracing over each crayon mark. there were lots of purple and black shadows that surrounded figures that appeared to be suho with his father. despite how malevolent the shadows seemed, the painted smiles on each of the shadows' faces dissipated any amount of concern you held. if these were suho's imaginary friends, then it was clear that they made him happy (with his favorite one being in the shape of a giant ant.)

as you turn the page, you saw a drawing that broke your heart. in it, suho and his father were settled on the couch while watching the television with a frown on their faces. on the screen was what appeared to be a blonde woman smiling with a microphone in hand as she waved at the cameras.

"that's mama." suho says with a bit of a sad tone. you nod and place the drawing of his mother back on the table for suho to see. he was frowning, pushing aside his empty cup of pudding while pointing a finger at her. "papa says she left when i was two... i don't remember her, but papa says she's happy in the t.v., singing and taking pictures."

"i see. your mom is very pretty?"

suho gives you yet another nod. "yeah, papa says she was so pretty that she left us."

suddenly, tears fill his grey eyes when he turns his gaze to you, filled with a desperation as he shakily asked, "did mama leave because i wasn't a good boy?"

"oh no, honey. no no no, this has nothing to do with you." you automatically bring suho into your embrace, gently caressing at his hair as he cried against your apron. "sometimes, adults have dreams they wish to achieve, too, and such dreams make them blinded. i'm sure your mama still loves and thinks about you, she just wishes to make her dreams come true first and foremost."

suho continues to cry while in your arms, yet still, you remain by his side, comforting him. you trace random shapes against his back while humming a lullaby. soon enough, the tears slowly begin to cease as you heard the soft sounds of his breathing.

with a fondness in your gaze, you turn suho around so that you were cradling him in your arms, rocking him back and forth while placing a gentle kiss against his forehead...

"suho." a deep yet breathless voice was heard calling out to the little boy, and as you trailed your eyes forward, you were met with what appeared to be a much older version of suho himself-

you were met with jinwoo, his father.

{ ... }

jinwoo was cursing all the way toward the daycare, berating himself for being so caught up in yet another cold case. the time was nearing 10 in the evening, which was past suho's bedtime as he rushed toward the daycare.

admittedly, ever since cha hae-in's departure (leading to their inevitable divorce), it was difficult for jinwoo to care for his son. of course, he had his loyal shadow soldiers that protected and kept watch over him-

but what suho needed was that soft, maternal touch he was certain his son had been deprived from when hae-in left and gave him complete custody. in her own way, jinwoo knew that hae-in loved her son-

yet the promise of being more than a simple housewife was a calling that such a gorgeous woman like his ex-wife could not ignore. she had big dreams when she was younger, but was unable to reach them until recently. their child was barely 2 years old when an agent caught sight of her and made her an offer she could not refuse.

jinwoo spent months arguing back and forth with his wife, wondering why their son wasn't enough (why he wasn't enough) to make her stay-

but in the end, he ultimately relented and let her go.

after all, he loved her enough to let her go and help her pursue her dreams-

even if it didn't involve either him or suho.

the memory of it all was enough to make jinwoo's heart twist, his hands clutching at the steering wheel when he arrives at the daycare, parking haphazardly before tossing the door open. he runs a hand across his unruly locks of hair, entering the building while calling out his son's name.

"suho-"

he trails his gaze forward, only to feel his throat closing up in response at the sight before him.

jinwoo sees suho in the embrace of a kind young woman. she meets his gaze while placing a finger up against her lips, humming a lullaby as suho remained asleep in her arms. his heart was racing, practically melting at the sight of her. when she finishes her lullaby, she beckons jinwoo closer, allowing him to take suho within his embrace.

he lets out soft coos of his son's name, feeling him stir the tiniest bit before settling within his arms. he looks back at the woman and thanks her, seeing her name tag while referring to her by her first name, "thank you, for caring for my son. and ah... i apologize for arriving so late."

she merely giggles, waving off his concern while taking off her apron, hanging it somewhere before grabbing her bag. "don't worry about it, mr. sung. it's tough working as an investigator. i don't mind spending a few extra hours keeping watch over suho until you pick him up."

jinwoo thanks the woman once more, this time with his eyebrows furrowed in response. "say, it's getting pretty late. is your boyfriend or partner picking you up?"

he hears a choked laugh coming from the woman. "ah, no mr. sung. i'm afraid i'm single and must take the train back to my place."

"the trains stop running by midnight, ma'am. you'll never make it." jinwoo tells her with a whisper of urgency. "i'm sorry, this is all my fault. let me give you a ride back."

before she could even protest, jinwoo's voice takes on a more authoritative tone. "trust me on this; it's late at night and you're a young woman. do you know how much the rates of assaults have increased this past year? there are millions of depraved men still out there."

his words end up striking a nerve within her, and he watches as she purses her lips before nodding, "well, okay mr. sung. if it isn't too much trouble-"

"don't worry, it's no trouble at all. after all, it's my fault that you had to be here so late. and please, call me jinwoo."

while keeping his sleeping son within his embrace, he watches the kind daycare lady shut off all the lights before locking up the daycare, following him to his car. as he opens up the backseat, he had a hard time getting a good grip on suho in order to transfer him to his carseat. it was during this moment that jinwoo witnessed her unconditional kindness once more.

like it was second nature to her, jinwoo watches as the woman gently ease suho away from his embrace, angling her body so that she had better access to the carseat. with gentle movements, she places suho in his carseat while buckling his seatbelt. "i'll remain in the backseat with this little guy. i can tell you my address as well."

taken aback by her easygoing nature and genuine kindness, jinwoo could only manage a nod in response, watching as she sits next to suho's carseat while he settles in the driver's seat in a bit of a haze. turning on his phone, he types in the woman's address and begins to back out of the parking lot.

with each stop light, jinwoo couldn't help but sneak glances at the kind woman, seeing the way she kept a protective arm around suho's carseat while looking out the window. seeing how soft and nurturing she was makes jinwoo smile, filling his heart with a warmth that he hadn't felt in a long time.

after what seemed like mere seconds, jinwoo arrives at her apartment complex. he was filled with a reluctance to see her go, especially when she gives suho a gentle kiss against his hair. "night little guy, i'll see you tomorrow."

giving jinwoo one last thank you, she exits the car and makes her way toward her apartment building, with jinwoo remaining parked in the front, not moving until she was completely inside of the building.

"papa..." jinwoo's ears perk when he hears suho calling out to him.

"yeah suho?"

jinwoo tilts his head back to get a good look at suho, seeing him yawn before telling him, "i really like her."

he hums in agreement, "well, you've got good tastes, suho. i really like her, too."

suho lets out another yawn before falling back asleep, making jinwoo smile as he started the car once more, thinking about how the next time he went to pick up suho that he'd need to place a soldier within her shadow...

{ ... }

you had fallen into a bit of a routine with jinwoo for the months that followed.

more often than not, jinwoo would end up working overtime at the station while you would always offer to keep watch over suho. and during those late nights when jinwoo picks suho up, he would always take you home.

but lately, it seemed as though you were steadily doing more... intimate activities.

for example, during the weekends where jinwoo was able to take some time off, he would pick you up after your shift at the daycare center and invite you out to dinner with him and suho. whether it be to a nice restaurant, or to a comforting, home cooked meal made by jinwoo himself-

it truly was nothing short of bliss to you.

and it was during moments like these that you found yourself falling utterly and irrevocably in love with the man named sung jinwoo. everything about him was just so perfect to you, and you found yourself thinking on how crazy his ex-wife was for leaving such a perfect family behind-

but you digress, since you were certain that it was simply the jealousy getting to you.

it was your day off, and you were simply doing mundane chores when you heard a knock at your door. drying your hands against a towel, you answer the door, only to feel your eyes go wide when jinwoo was found in front of your apartment. he was dressed comfortably in a black turtleneck sweater with matching jeans and a pair of converses, holding in his hand a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"hey, do you mind spending the rest of your day with me?" he gives you a sheepish smile, placing the lovely bouquet within your hands. you felt flabbergasted, gaping a bit as you looked around for any signs of suho.

"suho's with my parents for the day, so it's just me and you." as if reading your mind, jinwoo reassures you, placing a hand within the pocket of his dark jeans.

"oh, well, yes! i don't mind spending my day off with you. hold on, i'll place these flowers within a vase, and i'll grab my bag, then we can go."

jinwoo chuckles while telling you to take your time, simply watching you while in your doorway as you fluttered around your living room. after filling a vase with some fresh water, you place the lovely bouquet inside and grab your purse from your room. you join jinwoo after locking your door, smiling up at him as he takes your hand in his.

feeling the heat against your cheeks, you remain silent, simply allowing jinwoo to interlock your fingertips together with his. "let's take a walk, there's something i'd like to talk to you about."

you nod, "okay, lead the way, jinwoo."

he tightens his hold on your hand, walking with you out of your apartment complex. remaining on the sidewalk, you walked for about 20 minutes before arriving at a nearby park. he keeps on walking deeper into the park, not stopping until arriving at a gorgeous garden filled with a rainbow color of blooms. spotting an empty bench in the midst of such a wonderful garden, jinwoo gestures at you to sit as he settles beside you.

you both remain quiet, simply admiring the scenery. you were in the midst of counting how many flowers there were in a single section when jinwoo calls out your name. you feel him taking a hold of your left hand and begin speaking.

"you have sparked a fire in me that i didn't think even existed anymore."

the way jinwoo's voice cracked made you look back at him, your eyes being filled with empathy. you felt him giving your hand a squeeze when he meets your gaze. "ever since my ex wife left me to pursue her dreams, i buried myself in my work to forget about the pain of her abandonment. i did my best to raise suho on my own because of how much i love him, but it hasn't been easy.

what suho needs is a nurturing touch of a mother. he needs a gentle and kind love, that unconditional type of love that his own biological mother was unable to give.

truly, i was at a loss; uncertain of what i could even do to help him fill that void. and when i felt as though i were close to giving up and losing it all, that's when you came into my life."

your breath hitches in response to his confession, feeling him reaching out to you with his free hand as he cupped at your face. "you were like the sole beacon of light my soul was searching for. when i saw you that night, cradling my son so gently within your embrace, i knew that my heart was yours."

jinwoo finally lets go of your hand, making you let out a gasp when you saw a beautiful diamond engagement ring settled against your left ring finger. "j-jinwoo-"

"i know, i know, you may find me to be a rash man, proposing to you so suddenly, but i obtained such a trait from my own father." jinwoo lets out a rich chuckle while pressing a kiss against your ring finger, "the sungs have always been men who knew what they wanted and would do anything to pursue it-

and the only thing i want is you..."

jinwoo's eyes begin to glow purple just then, and you felt him framing at your face as he presses kisses that were no heavier than dew against your parted lips, "so please, marry me. make me and suho the happiest boys in the world. suho needs you- i need you in order to feel whole again."

with tears streaming down your face, you lean forward to press your lips against jinwoo's in a searing kiss, knowing that you would simply be a fool to reject his proposal.

[ epilogue ]

suho was getting ready for his first day of school, face frowning into the mirror as he kept trying to adjust his bowtie-

yet still, it seemed like no matter what he did, it forever remained within its lopsided state. with a pout, he stomps his feet and marches his way over to you.

"mom! i can't get this!"

you giggle and put aside the book you were reading, resting a hand over your rounded belly as you beckoned your son closer to you, "come here, sweetheart, let mommy help."

suho hums, remaining still like a good boy as you fixed his bowtie, settling it perfectly in the middle of his shirt. he gives you a toothy grin and leans down to kiss your stomach. "mwah! is my baby sister ready to come out yet?"

"not quite yet, honey, but soon, just have patience, okay?"

suho gives you another pout, ready to say something else when jinwoo's whistle was heard echoing throughout the house, "come on, suho! it's time for school! give your mama and little sister one more kiss, and i'll take you!"

suho listens to jinwoo's words, giving your cheek and your rounded belly yet another kiss before skipping away from you and toward his father, "bye mama!"

jinwoo gazes down at his son with a fondness, catching your stare while giving you a wink before leaving the house. and as your husband and son departs, you were aware of the shadowy wisps that surround you, making you smile as you knew that you would forever be protected by the man who was the absolute love of your life.

a.n. - an early father's day gift for the daddiest of them all lmaooo i'm sorry i need to write something fluffy and sweet for my hubby due to the stress i'm feeling. currently unedited, but i'll make any changes once this is posted 😭

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #.stories

860 notes · View notes

yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy · 1 year ago

Text

Excerpt - Convalesce

Young Jinx flees to the safety of Silco’s arms in search of refuge from the cacophony in her head. He obliges. As always. And a small game is played.

Confirming she possesses no further inclination to retreat, Silco reaches around her to retrieve his cigar, flicking off a generous nub of ash built on the tip. He holds it off to the side as he considers it, mindful of the curling smoke. Silco tilts his head to briefly touch his temple to hers, a silent affirmation.

He holds the next puff of smoke in his mouth until his lungs scream for relief. A hand returns to her back, fingers compelled to draw inane patterns while he resumes watching dust dance in the pale green light.

For some, fear is a sapling to be plucked, grasped and uprooted, giving way with a clod of dirt and a strained tug.

But her fear is not a weed, no. That much is painfully obvious. It is a shadow stitched to heart, a dark mimicry echoing her past mistakes and whispering her shortcomings in her ear, a cacophony silent to all but her. He cannot silence these voices, but he tries to speak over them, drown them out with sense, and for the most part he is at least partially successful. And on the rare occasions when he isn't..

He flicks some ash from his cigar.

The less said about those sleepless nights, the better.

Warm breath wrapped in a giggle settles against his neck, bringing Silco back to the present. ‘Si~ilco, what're you doing, algebra on my back? That's boring.’

The unmarred corner of his lips lifts into a faint smile she cannot see, then parts a sliver's worth to allow the smoke to languidly trickle out from the cavern of his mouth in a thick ribbon-like stream.

Her back transforms into a typewriter in his mind's eye. His fingers switch to skittering and pattering up and down the small expanse with the deftness of a secretary as he taps out a coded message. J-I-N-X-J-I-N-X-J-I-N-X. She giggles again, and the rest of the smoke gusts out from his toothy half-smirk like steam from a grate as he joins her with an amused huff. Such a wonderful sound. He wishes he could bottle it up and distill it into a tonic for occasions like this.

Do you remember the taste of your happiness, child? Drink, and recall.

If only it were that simple. "Or it could very well be nonsense."

Warmth is returning to the youth in his arms, spring swiftly bleeding into summer to leave dreary memories of winter behind. The wires are sparking, filling the air with the scent of sunshine and wax crayons.

She pulls back to grin at him, wiggling like a worm on a hook, or an overly-excited retriever. 'Write something else! Oh, oh, draw something and I'll guess!"

He hums in faux consideration. When she is distraught, her sense of self requires some time to return to form, her whimsical proclivities swinging ungainly between two stark poles, pitifully infantile or soberingly mature for her present age. A broken slot machine with its wheels ever-spinning. He is well aware of the strangeness, but he has never turned away anyone for being odd.

Dustin is oft times unintelligible in his speech, harboring brain damage from inhaling sump fumes in his formative years, yet when given a microphone can sing with the clarity of a lake lark.

Ran has no memory of their life before the age of fourteen--their genesis was upon that of a stained mattress within a rotting room, laces to their breeches untied and their hand trembling around the handle of a shiv sunken into the throat of a naked, disheveled woman looming above them like a gaunt spider—āyí. Auntie.

The Last Drop's bartender Thieram sometimes comes into work as Chella, the heavy-lashed dame with a spine of steel and nails to match; 'she' claims to be a soul residing within Thieram, a psychic fragment formed in childhood of whose existence he still remains starkly unaware.

Zaun as it stood now served as the dumping ground for Piltover's slag and refuse, a rubbish bin into which all things unsightly and ill-reputed were cast off.

Genius often wears the mask of madness, and this child was a prodigy tenfold.

So he honors these innocent, childish requests. Anything to keep her afloat.

He draws a waverider, which she guesses incorrectly as an alligator, then a gecko. 'Wrong genus.'

She groans dramatically. He can practically feel her eyes rolling in her head. Sapphire marbles. 'As if I know what that means!'

'You should,' he teases.

But he hums again, and draws a circle, the basic shape of a Poro. Funny little things, embodying empathy and cat-like curiosity. Thick white or yellowish fur, two curved goat horns, and a comically large panting tongue. Generally as big as an ottoman, though he's heard they can grow to dwarf even men. Their kind are as scarce as sunlight in Zaun given their sensitivity to suffering and conceit. They are fixtures in children's story books as heroes down here in the Lanes just as they are Topside, though a cunning and shrewdness has been allotted to their natures by his fellow Zaunites to afford them more..practicality and believability for the little ones. It did no one any good to fill their heads with naive notions of pure goodness and altruism as unshakeable forces found in nature. The world was not fated to be soft to those born on this side of the Gate.

There is a static-y pause, a taut coil of anticipation. She is waiting for more. He remains still, and when she eventually pulls back, he stifles a chuckle at how her brow furrows and her nose scrunches as if suddenly blinded by floodlight. 'That's it? That's just a circle!’

‘That is the animal's shape.’ He says from behind his cigar. The flaring of her nostrils makes him raise a challenging brow, though he maintains an unaffected air. ‘Anything more than that and it would be too easy. I know you're clever enough to figure it out without a hint.'

It is like a switch is flipped. The mirth buzzing within her stalls, stilts as her head lolls, a secondhand doll with a broken neck socket joint. Her expression darkens, her mouth twisting tight and bunching up like a ruined seam as she glares out from under a contorted shelf formed across her brow. Her eyes, still unchanged from the same brilliant blue that cloud of magic that blew his dockside shimmer operations sky-high, are no longer illuminated by sunlight glittering atop ocean surf. Instead they are mute, flat as cold stone. Unmerciful as kerosene flame.

Silco watches this quiet anger seep to the surface in equal parts caution and patience. He will never tell her that she is disallowed from feeling as she does, to the degree that she does. However, emotions were energy, and among his scores of lessons was how to best economically harness and direct that energy. The hungry black flame that shaped her ire could be better suited to tinkering or testing her projects than gouging out chunks of her flesh, or his. And energy disconnected from a proper set of conduits and outlets was inevitably fated to combust in a multitude of messy ways, perishing the host.

Needless waste.

The seconds tick by.

Poke.

The tip of her small finger darts out to stab his lapel, a spiteful peck with enough force behind it for the point of contact to well with transient ache.

Silco’s aloft eyebrow is joined by its painted brother to form a banner of quiet challenge. But as expected, this gesture only further deepens the creases of her mulish pout, reminding him of those pitiful inbred lapdogs adored by Piltovian ladies.

In her grousing, she fails to consider, or forgets, the presence of his hand hovering over her back. Another lesson to impart. Maintaining one's awareness of the world around them even whilst simmering in their own recalcitrance.

With a bored look, he pokes her in the back. Hard. Right between the vertebrae.

Jinx jolts forward, more so in surprise than propulsion, and makes a show of twisting and turning to dart her attention between his face and his hand, her sullenness now resembling that of a runt resentful of its target status by local bullies.

Her fingers curl into fists, fury building..

But she has not yet raked her nails down his cheek nor grabbed him by the ears to scream in his face, or made a lunge for his hair..

And suddenly, the clouds break. She gives him a thousand watt gap-toothed grin and begins to assail him with a series of rapid pokes upon his chest, little pecks with her pointer fingers that he can feel through his waistcoat. She pairs it with small sounds that simulate punching--'pow pow pow pow pow pow!'

It takes all of his self-control not to displace his cigar. His teeth sink into the filter as his lips pull back in a grin wide enough that he feels the familiar sharp numb-ache of his scarred cheek muscles pull and tug to accommodate. Pain she is able to make him relish as a gift.

'Come on, come on,' she chides, 'you gotta give me more than that, ‘wise 't's too hard! Powpowpowpowpowpow!!'

"Fine." She pauses in her assault, expectant. Bright, bright, bright with held breath.

He pokes two dots to serve as eyes, and grins even wider around his cigar when her anticipation crumples into another one of her frustrated groans.

'Is it a pet rock?'

'A what?'

'A pet rock. You know,' she drawls, bobbling her head as if it was obvious, 'a rock you have as a pet?'

Silco turns this absurd explanation in his head, and comes up blank. 'I still do not understand, but no.'

'Well if you don't get it, then it's a freebie! Point for me!'

'Mm. And how is it your point?'

She wiggles in his lap, pride threatening to spill out of her like unfiltered sunlight. Endearingly volatile and pure. 'I know something you don't know!' She sing-songs, lifting a finger from his vest to wave it back and forth in a tiny circling dance.

'That is not the game we're playing.'

'It is always being played.' She rebuts.

Deeply, madly, truly appreciate any comments. I have a whole lot more but the pieces are stuck in between very unsatisfactory paragraphs.

#my writing #fan fiction #silco #jinx #my fan fiction #silco and jinx

28 notes · View notes

amazing-spiderling · 6 months ago

Note

Ask art🎨! 1. 3. 5. 13. 15. 25. 34

What got you into art? When did you start?

I feel like I was one of those kids who was always drawing. One of the earliest hobbies I remember having was drawing, and since my mom was a teacher, it seemed like we were never at a loss for pencils, crayons and markers in the house. I think I also developed a desire to imitate things I saw on television pretty early on. I remember being TRANSFIXED by the Saban "Grimm's Fairy Tales" that would play on occasional Saturdays as part of Nickelodeon's "Special Delivery" programming. This was old timey anime, but even as a kid I could tell there was something different about it that I liked, and I tried to imitate the style as best I could in the margins of my notebooks.

Later, I got into comic books, and I remember wanting to draw my favorite characters from those (Batman was an early one, eventually giving way to Nightcrawler and the X-Men.) Again, I'd copy pictures out of comics I snuck in my bag to school. By the time high school came around, I was holding pieces of paper up to a paused video on television to get anime characters exactly right (please understand the internet was still in its infancy, and google wasn't even a thing yet). So I guess the thing that "got me into" art was seeing things I liked, and wanting to make them too.

3. What digital programs, if any, do you prefer?

I pretty much only use CSP for drawing, and then I'll hop onto Photo Pea if i need to do any grunt work (resizing/reformatting etc)

5. Who is your biggest inspiration?

Mostly, other people in my fandom circles. When I see people creating art of the things I love, it makes ME want to make art of the things I love. Sometimes this is people posting art that makes me think "I want to try that" and other times it's just conversations that spark something in my mind, but I know I'd be waaaaaaaaay less productive if I didn't have a community of awesome creatives to keep me fueled up!

13. Where do you draw inspiration from?

Hmm. Stories, I think? Sometimes I have an idea with a story connected to it, but I don't know if it could sustain an entire fic, and would rather see it as one powerful image. Other times, I'll hear a song and it will spark a visual in my mind I want to get out. And of course, I love a good redraw. I'm quick to draw associations between things I like, and a lot of time that has to get expressed as art.

15. Any tips and advice?

So, I actually originally went to school for painting hahahaha. I was convinced I wanted to be a fine artist. But I spent a lot of my time in art school convinced that I had to reach certain (totally undefined) thresholds before I would be capable (or allowed?) to do certain things. Use certain materials, attempt certain projects. And to be fair, I was limited by some things, like money, my ability to go places and *get* said materials, my available time etc. But that wasn't the roadblock in my head. Many years later, I was sitting in on a panel of female creators who had made a place for themselves in the digital space, and one of them asked the audience how many of them had an idea for a website, a podcast, a webseries etc- anything creative they wanted to do. A lot of people raised their hands. Then she asked how many of them had a cellphone. Everyone raised their hand again.

"Then you already have everything you need to get started. This isn't the best camera or microphone or computer in the world, but it's enough for you to get going. You don't need anyone's permission to get started."

I think that she did a really good job of articulating an issue I'd given myself- I was waiting for permission to do things, and I didn't need it! I try to keep that in mind now whenever I want to try my hand at something new.

25. Most frustrating thing about art?

Having an idea you're really excited about. Wanting to draw it. And being unable to make yourself get up and do it. I probably spend just as much time figuring out ways to have better habits and rituals around making art as I do actually making it.

34. Piece you didn’t think would get noticed as much as it does?

I cranked out that Scott Pilgrim deleted scene redraw (the comic with Murderdock at a Mary Janes concert) in the course of a single evening because the idea came to me all of a sudden and I knew that if I didn't do it RIGHT THEN i never would. Since that movie kinda only has a cult following, and the scene was only available on the DVD version, (and Murderdock was more niche than he is now) it was really something I did for myself. The fact that a bunch of people have found the idea s funny as I did still surprises me.

#thank you for the ask!

3 notes · View notes

the-real-things-tournament · 2 years ago

Text

0.5mm Pencil Lead

2002 Honda Civic

320 Pack Glitter Gel Pens

A Blunt

A Candle That Smells Like Fragrant Evergreens

A Copy of "The Book Thief" (2005) by Markus Zusak

A Daisychain

A DVD Copy of Over the Hedge (2006)

A Train

Ace of Spades Playing Card

Adderall

Adipose Plushie

Adorable Cow Creamer

Airpods

An Innumerable Amount of Lost DS Styli

Animal Shaped Rubber Bands

AP French Exam Packet

Argon (The Element)

Aviator Goggles

Baguette Body Pillow

Battery

Bead Maze

Beaded Curtain

Beanbag Chair

Bed

Beehive

Best Rock

Big Drinking Fountain

Black Out Curtains

Blanket

Blue Jeans

Blåhaj/Ikea Shark

Bread

Bright Orange VHS for the Rugrats Movie

Broken Alarm Clock

Bubble Toy

Bucket

Bur Oak Tree

Buttons (for clothes)

Can of Beans

Cast Iron Pan

Cat Collar With Bell

Chalk Boards

Cheese Grater

Chew Necklace

Chicxulub Impactor

Claw Hairclip

Clip-On Earrings

Clock

Coconut Broom

Colored Fairy Lights

Comically Oversized Lollypop

Construction Cone

Contraception

Crane Machine

Crayons

Dead Baby Possum Killed by Chihuahua (RIP)

Digivice V-pet

Dildo

Dirigible

Dirty Glass Bottle You Find In The Woods

Disinfecting Wipes

Dice

Dragon Ball Z Volume 4 (Manga Paperback)

Drinking Bird Desk Toy

Earth

Egg Slicer

Elementary School Yearbook

Empty Pizza Box

Every Basket

Every Knife

Eye Mug From a School Ceramics Sale

Fake Dictionary Lockbox

Fancy Showerhead

Fantasia 2000 VHS Tape

Fencing Mask

Ferrofluid

Finger Cymbals

Finger Cymbols

Fingerless Gloves (made of wool)

Flower Bush By The Pavement On The Street

Four Seasons Puzzle

Froggy Chair

Furby

Garden Gloves With Claws

Garlic

Gendang

Generic Paw Of A Monkey

Geode

Glow in the Dark Celing Stars

Glow Stick Liquid

"god i wish that were me" Screenshot

Golden Acorn Statue

Googly Eyes

Guitar

Half An Onion

Halloween Skeleton Decoration

Hand Mixer From The '60s

Haunted Callie Calamari Doll That Drinks All Your Pepsi and Calls You a Bitch

Heart-Shaped Glasses

Holly the Dragon Beanie Boo

Homemade Hand Sanitizer

Hurdy Gurdy

Ice Cube

Ice Maker

Japanese 5 Yen Coin

Kids Watercolor Set

Kitchen Sink

Knockoff Garfield Plush

Knäckebröd

La Croix Sparkling Water Pamplemousse

Late Night Infomercials

Lavender Scented Candle

LEGO Spring 2007 Catalog

Lightning McQueen Crocs

Lindt Gold Bunny

Lint Roller

Lip Smackers Watermelon Chapstick

LNER Peppercorn Class A1 60163 Tornado

Lobster Ornament

Loch and Nessie, the Loch Ness Monster Ladles (one solid, one with strainer holes)

Loofah

Lun-Class Ekranoplan

Mammatus Cloud

Manatea Tea Infuser

Meat Cleaver

Meat Tenderizer

Mechanical Pencil

Microscope

Microwave

Mini Cuban Flag on Plant

Mini Fan

Monopoly Dog Piece

Mop

NA Mazda Miata (Specifically With Googly Eyes)

Native American Fire Opal Blade

Nebula

Nokia Phone 3310 (2000)

Occlupanids

Old Faithful

One Crouton

One Flavor Blasted Cheddar Goldfish

Onion Chopper/Mini Food Processer

Opalized Fossil

Oumuamua

Our Sun

Paint Tube

Palm Leaf Rose

Paper Crown

Paper Leaves

Paracetamol Tablet

Pencil

Pizza

Plastic Lightsaber

Plastic Play Food Set

Polly Pocket Website (circa 2005)

Popstar Microphone

Potato

"Previously on X-Men" (YouTube Video)

Rainbow Desk Lamp Christmas Gifted By Aunt

Rainbow Pride Flag

Red Bouncy Ball

Rice

Rocking Horse

Roller Skates

Rounde (Sheep Plush Adored by Friend Group)

Rubik's Cube

Russian Nesting Doll

Salt and Vinegar Chips

Sand-Filled Frog Toy Named Floppy

School Chair Attached To Desk

Screwdriver

Seattle Space Needle

Seki Edge Nail Clippers

Sewing Pin

Sharpie

Shoe Insoles

Shoelaces (From The President)

Silver Hoop Earrings

Simply Southern T-Shirt

Single Macaroni Noodle

Siren Percussion Instrument

Slap Bracelets

Sliced Bread

Slinky

Slip N' Slide

Slotted Spoon

Snowman Headband

Solar Eclipse Sunglasses

Soviet-Era Apartment Complex

Spamton Plush

Sparkly DND Dice That Look Like They Should Be Edible But Aren't

Spoon

Squirmles

Squishmallows

Squishy Water Tube Toy

Stained Glass

Stand-Up Bass

Starbucks Coffee Cup

Steel/Metal Pipe

Stick (From the Ground)

Stop Sign

Stuffed Animals

Styrofoam

Subway Employee Hat

Swiffer

Tamagotchi

The Bible

The Demon Core

The Entirely Of Wikipedia Printed Out

The Giant Canadian Rubber Duck

The International Space Station

The Internet

The Kaaba

The Milky Way

The Mona Lisa

The Moon

The Spinx

The Statue Of The Shoe That Almost Hit George Bush

The Tiny Jack Hiding In The Wall Of My Trunk For When I Have A Flat Tire

The Transistor

The Voynich Manuscript

The Wheel

The World Trade Center (WTC)

The Zener Diode

Theremin

TI-84 Graphing Calculator

Tofu

Tom Scott's Best Thing Survey

Torn Apart Skunk Dog Toy

Trans Flag

Tumblr Anon Hatemail

Tungsten Cube

Two Paper Cockatiels On A Wire Stand On My Desk

Umbrella Hat

Unicorn Pillow Pet

Vicks Vaprorub

Vincent Van Gogh's Sunflowers Painting

Vintage Railway Poster

Walkable City

Water

Water Bottle

Water Snake Wiggler

White Boards

White Out

Wind Chime

Wings of Fire Slightly Used Coloring Book

Wireless Headphones

Working McDonalds Ice Cream Machine

www.hasthelargehadroncolliderdestroyedtheworldyet.com

Xbox 360

Yoga Ball

Yu-Gi-Oh Cards

Zipper

Ōdachi

#info stuff #prep stuff #the real things tournament

9 notes · View notes

lavender-romancer · 2 years ago

Text

Tired of Me

Part Six

Tommy Shelby x Reader

CW: angst, fluff

Neither of you are strong enough to talk about your problems, you coexist in a state of sleepless nights and last chances but can any of that change when you start visiting a therapist?

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

previous part

Tommy had gone away again but it hasn't been as bad as before, he called you regularly and had begun organising dinners to be served to you that changed day by day. You could feel his presence more than ever before and it felt so much better than you could have expected.

"The phone for you Ma'am," one of the maids told you as she entered your studio. You thanked her and went to your desk where you picked up the phone.

"Hello?" You asked with a smile on your face because you knew who it was.

"Hello, darling. How have your drawings been going lately?" Tommy asked in a tired but interested voice.

"It's been okay, I've been experimenting with some different crayons and oil paints and it's been coming out alright so far, I've got a portrait of you planned." You smiled as you held your knees close to your chest.

"I'm not worthy of your work, darling. I just love hearing your voice." Tommy sounded so sad it made you concerned.

"Are you okay, Tommy?" You asked, chewing your lip anxiously.

"Some things have happened but I don't want to worry you with the details," he sighed "I know you want me to let you in but some things aren't for the ears of angels like you."

"I understand, Tom. I just wish I could help you with everything." You rubbed your forehead.

"Darling, hearing your voice helps me more than you can ever understand." Tommy's line had some speaking in the background and there was a pause where he seemed to reply through a muffled microphone.

"Are you okay?" You asked.

"Yes, but I need to get off now. I'll call you again in a few days to hear how that portrait is coming along." Tommy sounded like he was smiling and jr made you blush.

"Okay, my love. Have a good evening, I love you."

You carried on keeping yourself busy in the studio with experimentation to try not to worry about what trouble your husband was getting into. It was helping but only slightly by this point as it had been a few days since you'd heard from Tommy and that always heightened your anxiety around it. But the thought that he wanted to change and was making actual changes to your relationship was making your heart warm. Regardless of the anxiety around his safety it reassured you that he was trying to be better and make you feel more loved.

Working on Tommy's portrait was healing for you because it felt like a portion of him was with you all the time. You chose to paint him in a happier moment, sitting at his desk in a shirt with the sleeves rolled up with a cigarette in hand. He was smiling at the viewer but you would know that he was smiling at you, sometimes Tommy would ask you to do some drawings whilst he was working at his desk so you could both work silently but this time you had begun sketching this happy expression on his face intermixed with sketches of him at his desk. So you had a pretty good reference to start from for your pencil guide, your favourite part to paint were always his eyes. They were so intoxicatingly blue, drawing you in and keeping you under his unmistakable spell. By the end of the sketch guide you felt so drunk on the love you had for his figure, for his face and his brain that it was almost ridiculous.

Your love for him could withstand anything, you didn't worry for your marriage as you did before and your therapy sessions had gone to every fortnight rather than every week as you felt more stable. At least… that's what you thought was the truth.

Later that week Thomas rang you again and you picked up with a smile on your face and a spring in your step. You'd missed his voice more than you cared for admit and wanted to soothe him with information about your mundane day because you knew he craved normality.

"Afternoon my lovely," you smiled against the phone.

"Hello, darling." Tommy replied.

"Your portrait is coming across nicely. You'll be happy to hear even if you won't appreciate the lack of a serious expression on your face." You joke and he let out a chuckle.

"You always say these sorts of things and they never really are true, if I smile around you then I am happy. You don't see it as weakness and I don't if I am around you," Tommy paused "There's so much shit going on here that I just want to hear how it's going, tell me everything that's happened."

"Well I've started with the desk, I want to paint your eyes last so I can just stare into them and get lost again. You're so beautiful to paint, Tommy." You rubbed your hand up and down your hand that held the phone.

"I'm glad you think so, I can't wait to get lost in yours again. I look at your photos so often I can't get them out of my head." Tommy hummed against the phone.

"You really think of me so often?" You asked with a smile dancing across your face.

"All the time my love, you never leave my mind at most points of the day." Tommy sighed at the other end of the line and you suspected he was rubbing his face.

"I admit I can't stop thinking about you at most points of the day either but you're always so busy my darling, hope I'm not distracting you too much." You tucked some hair behind your ear softly.

"Y/n, you're my favourite and only distraction I invite." Tommy told you and you smiled.

"You always know how to reassure me lately, I really appreciate all the changes you've made." You rubbed your neck that was aching from standing for so long.

"I love you, darling. Forever and always. Don't ever forget that, I must go now but I will contact you soon." Tommy put down the phone and you smiled.

The following day you were woken up with a knock at your bedroom door, a maid came in with a small package on a tray. You thanked her and set the package down on the bed, it was addressed to you but not in Tommy's handwriting so you weren't sure what it was going to contain. You pulled apart the brown paper that had a thick envelope slotted into it that you took out, opened it up and your eyes widened.

There were tens of photos of Thomas and Arthur with women. Photos of them entering a grand house and photos of your husband with women, but most of this with one woman with dark lipstick and darker hair. She was beautiful, there were labels or comments or something written in Russian on the back of all the photos and you didn't know what to say. But before you could think you saw the letter enclosed, it said few words but they spoke volumes.

Greetings from us Mrs Shelby,

We hope you enjoy this olive branch of honesty

Your breath caught in your throat but that was when you heard the ticking 'tick,tick,tick,tick'. Peeling back the other layers of brown paper you saw a timer triggered bomb and fled from your bed. You screamed 'bomb' from the staircase and fled for your life out of the house as the staff followed. You didn't get out of the doors in time before a world shuddering boom erupted. As you fell to the floor, your head dazed and foggy you realised you were holding the photos that your mind couldn't escape from. They were a bit crumpled from your fall but the incriminating nature of them was all the same and tears began to fall from your eyes as you lay on the gravel outside your home that was burning.

You were helped to your feet by one of the maids, you couldn't hear anything apart from the thumping inside your head as you walked back into the house. The portrait of you and Tommy that was on the grand staircase was burning at the edges of the frame, it served as a sick reminder that nothing had changed, nothing was different.

You coughed as you walked around the corner and leant against the wall for support, your arm was bleeding from the fall onto the drive but you just wiped it with your hand and carried on. The maids calls to you falling on dead ears as you entered the studio and looked at your easel. Your portrait of Thomas smiling back at you made your eyes well up and the rage within your body rose up into an almighty fire as you took a pallet knife in your hand and dug deep into his face. You ran the knife down to the bottom of the canvas and continued to retract and stab the knife into the fabric with a hopeless ferocity that made your arm hurt.

"You fucking bastard," you whispered to yourself as you took a step back and looked at the mangled portrait before you.

You wanted the fire to consume you, to take your body with the house and never return it to the earth. Why couldn't the sweet release of death take you? Why couldn't you just fucking cut yourself out of your husband's life and leave this god forsaken world behind. Even when he hurt you so intensely you felt such loyalty to him that it made you feel sick, no, no, no- not sick. Your breath caught in your throat again as you realised you had to vomit and you turned around, sinking to the floor Infront of the bin and emptying your guts. You couldn't be? No, no you… fuck.

Sinking against the floor you sobbed, holding your stomach you cried for the suspected unborn child that would be born into a world of fire. The child that would never understand why their father was never here, why he was never in their life. If you were with child you didn't know what to do. Pushing yourself up with shaking arms and a pulsing headache you packed up some of your sketchbooks and your materials, threw on an overcoat and some shoes the were under your desk and sat in your desk chair. Your feet were bleeding out into the soles of the shoes and you didn't seem to care, it was the least of your worries at the current moment. You could smell smoke and fire but you didn't move for a great while even when you could hear the fire engines approaching you didn't rise. You just gripped the photographs in your trembling hands and held yourself.

Thomas couldn't breath when he got the telephone call, he continued to hold his breath when he was told that you were alive but outright refused to talk to him. He didn't know how to react, what had made you so angry toward him? A few days ago there was no animosity, no anger at all so what had changed especially after such a tragedy? He came home on the first train he could but as he entered the house on Watery Lane he was met by Ada who had never looked so angry in her life. Before Tommy could say anything she had slapped him extremely hard round the face.

"You're a fucking bastard, Tommy. I mean that with every bone in my fucking body because of what you've done to her." Ada's eyes were full of malice.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Tommy asked and Ada looked at him with a knowing look.

"She knows, Tommy. She fucking knows what you did on that trip." Ada commented and Tommy rubbed his forehead.

"How the fuck-"

"The photos were with the fucking bomb, with a fucking note saying hello and labels in Russian on the photos of you having a great time with other women. She's sick with smoke inhalation, she's temporarily lost her hearing and fuck, she's absolutely broken." Ada yelled as she walked into the kitchen and sat down.

"What are you talking about, how could she know anything?" Tommy followed her and sat down.

"They look photos of you, everywhere in that fucking house and it's you there is no denying it. How have you fucked up this bad Tom? The moment before she nearly dies and all that is in her memory is you being with another." Ada shook her head and Tommy sighed.

"I need to see her and-"

"No! Don't you get it? She doesn't want you, she doesn't want to see you." Ada yelled and Tommy rubbed her forehead again, he was exhausted after his journey but he wanted to see you so badly he couldn't focus on it.

"Then what am I supposed to do? If I can't explain myself what should I do eh, Ada?" Tommy sounded like he could be pleading but his voice was so monotone you would never be able to tell.

"Fuck if I know, Thomas. But she doesn't want to see you. I'm going to the hospital now so if you want to say anything to her you'll have to write it down." Ada left the room and Tommy put his head in his hands and closed his eyes.

Your hearing was starting to come back day by day but your eyes hurt the most, they were constantly getting washed out and examined to make sure the smoke hadn't done any more damage but they were red and swollen. Nothing major was wrong that you could tell but the doctors were concerned for your lungs so you couldn't leave the hospital, not that there was anywhere for you to go. You assumed you'd go to London with Ada but you didn't know if you could stand the journey or if Ada would want you. The feeling of being unwanted was palpable in your soul, you couldn't count how many times you'd cried yourself to sleep and it was almost a miracle you had your own room.

You couldn't rationalise what was happening and that had always been the advice of Dr Molina, to stop and think about what was going on and if your brain was blowing something out of proportion. But what else could this be other than the most cardinal sin a husband could commit? How were you to feel anything other than abandoned? Even though you didn't want to see Tommy you couldn't despise him in the way you felt like you wanted too. You wanted to see his face and feel anger erupt from your body and into words of malice like on the day of the explosion but you couldn't. When you saw his face in your head all you felt was sadness at a life missed out on.

Ada came to your bedside later that day and you felt grateful that she was such a frequent visitor. No one else was here for you in the way she was, you had no one to turn to except her. She sat by your bedside and explained how she saw Tommy today and your heart rate quickened. Holding your hand she discussed how she told him that you didn't want to see him and you nodded with tears in your eyes. When she handed you a letter your brows furrowed but seeing your name written in Tommy's handwriting made it clear. Ada left you to read the unopened letter on your own and you didn't know if you really wanted to hear his words or not.

My darling y/n,

I suppose, no I know that you don't wish to see me and I won't break that promise I make to you as I have many others. I expect nothing from you after reading this, just confirmation from my sister that you have read it is enough for me. It is unexplainably heartbreaking to not be able to see you and yet I understand why, I have betrayed you whether it was for business or not I have betrayed you. I hold no ill intent toward you in my actions but I did them all the same and I know that is what is important. I have asked your doctor to give me regular updates on your health so that you do not have to contact me further as I know that would cause you great discomfort. Know that I have put in place payment for any new things you may need whether it be clothes or painting supplies just tell Ada and it will be done. Your life can continue without interference from me or we can reconcile at a later date. Either way I love you, I love you so deeply it pains me so intensely to be apart from you. I still remember my vows to you and I have broken them on so many occasions I know that you deserve more than I can give you.

I am and will always be, your Tommy.

You put down the letter on your bedside table, rolled onto your side and cried yourself to sleep, your pillow growing wetter as the minutes went on. In the back of your mind Tommy was dead, he was fucking people who looked nothing like you... Tommy lusted after these women who were nothing like you and he carried this guilt within the things he bought for you. He told you he wanted to love you forever but he didn't, you wanted to fall in love with him everyday but he wouldn't let you. Thomas came with all this stress, you were joined with him for life, you'd given him your best years and you couldn't escape now. These weren't mistakes, these were calculated decisions he chose to make.

He killed you, inside he had murdered you and your sense of self and it was all coming back to hit you like a wave. You weren't crying for him, you wouldn't cry for him anymore than you needed too. Instead you cried for yourself, you wanted to believe you could kill him in your mind and not let out a single tear but you didn't know if that was true. Everyday of your life you had waited for someone who would try, someone who who would love you everyday of your marriage and you thought you had found it. But the regret that pooled your stomach ended with a hatred of your husband that you didn't believe you would ever forget. You covered your eyes with your hands and sobbed as you mourned the life you would never have with the man you loved more than life itself.

next chapter

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

Taglist:

Peaky Blinders Taglist:

@queenofkings1212 @severewobblerlightdragon @cl5369 @fairypitou @stressedandbandobessed7771 @shadow-of-wonder @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns @curled-hair-red-lips @lucystivinsky1315

@kathrinemelissa @wolfieellsworld @archivallyfound09 @hopefulinlove @globetrotter28 @buttercup32sstuff @teamfreeavocados @just-a-blackhole @sabbbyn @sillyfreakfanparty @lovelyreader22 @leaked-adrenaline @ghxst-heart @esposadomd

301 notes · View notes

issaxcharlie · 4 years ago

Text

Always You

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Fem Reader

Summary: {We Play Pretend Series} Charlie decides to stop overthinking and finally proposes to his best friend at his very own way.

Songs Used: Black and White by Niall Horan and I’ll Follow You by Echosmith

Word Count: +2k

Charlie finally finishes preparing the fire as Y/N comes out of the tent in his orange hoodie, one of his bandanas adorning her high ponytail. Her dazzling smile blanks him for a few seconds, and the day he asked her to be his girlfriend for the first time appeared on the back of his head.

He was maybe even more nervous than he is right now, and he blurted out the question without realizing it. It wasn't until Y/N jumped into his arms and pressed her lips against his that he finally understood what was happening. That day was the happiest day of his life, but then it was overcome by the day their paths crossed again, then by the day they became a couple again, then by the day they moved in together, and if everything goes well, now it will be overcome by this one. He smiles fondly at the memories. One thing is for sure, with Y/N everything always gets better.

She sits next to him, reaching out to sink her face into her boyfriend's neck. When he suggested for them to take a little camping trip before they returned to Canada for the holidays, she said yes without hesitation. First of all, because she loves to experience moments like this with him. Memories of all the times they camped in the Gillespie's backyard when they were children lighting up her heart. And secondly, because she knows that he needs the peace and calm that being here gives him, after all, she has no doubt that Charlie has planned to propose to her during the trip back home.

“Did you enjoy the day? I know you wanted to rest before the trip, it means a lot to me that you agreed to come.” He confessed while wrapping his arm around her, lifting the hoodie slightly to caress the sensitive skin on her waist.

“Char, we spent hours blasting our favorite albums, we elegantly ate ridiculously delicious gas station hotdogs, you spilled the soda down your pants which was quite entertaining, and now I'm under the stars by your side on a beautiful night. If you ask me, this is the perfect day.” She declares without hesitation, raising her head a little to give him a soft kiss in his jawline.

Charlie blushes, happiness flooding his soul just as always with his precious girl. “I couldn’t agree more. Everyday I get to spend with you is a perfect one.” She smirks at his words, her raised eyebrow indicates she's ready to fight him.

"Oh yeah? Even the time I convinced you that Santa was obviously born in Canada and we searched for his house all over the city?" He snorts thinking about two really small ten year olds doing mischief around the town.

"You had very convincing arguments. Shame our parents didn’t think the same and punished us for a month."

“It’s not really punishment if we get to spend it together anyways.” Y/N added, remembering all the hours of fun they managed to have in the Gillespie’s leaving room.

"They had no other choice, we were attached by the hips. I mean, we tried to elope and live in the park a year earlier just because we were sick of saying goodbye every night.” Charlie reminds her while breaking into laughter.

“Mom had to convince us to come back, telling us that one day we could get married and be together in a way nicer place than the park. And you didn’t believe her because what could be nicer than the park?” Y/N recalls, the image of their 9 year old selves swinging with their backpacks full of important prized possessions like Charlie's collection of rocks or Y/N’s toy microphone making them laugh.

“She had to explain to me everything about that marriage thing she was talking about on the way home.” Charlie says with a smile.

“And then you propose a few days later in your backyard, with a red ring pop and a beautiful original song you played on your guitar.” She hugs him tightly, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“I was nine, I'm sure it wasn’t beautiful. It probably didn't even make sense. But, I wrote it with a lot of love, just for you to eat the ring five minutes later.” He calls her out, sticking out his tongue in a playful way.

“And I’ll do it again.” He pretends to be offended but Y/N just needs to kiss him and whisper that she loves him against his lips for him to smile again. “We were quite intense children, huh?”

His eyes light up, and he winks cheekily. “We still are.”

Charlie gently kisses her hair and gets up to take his guitar, meanwhile she sits a little further away from him to give him enough room to play, and he tries to control the shaking of his hand while playing a soft sound he has been working on.

Once he finally calmed down a little, he starts to play the song he drove so far away to play, deciding it’s time. “That first night we were standing at your door, fumbling for your keys, then I kissed you. Ask me if I want to come inside, 'cause we didn't want to end the night. Then you took my hand, and I followed you.” Y/N had never heard that song before, which immediately surprises her because they live together, how come she never heard it? She puts attention to the lyrics and realizes he is talking about the night they became a couple again, after the Stand Tall presentation.

“Yeah, I see us in black and white, crystal clear on a star lit night, In all your gorgeous colors, I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life. See you standing in your dress, swear in front of all our friends there'll never be another. I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life.” Then everything clicks. How nervous he has been all day, his "sudden" desire to camp before the holidays, the eyes full of emotion with which he has looked at her all night. And suddenly this day is even more perfect than she ever believed it could be.

“Now, we're sitting here in your living room, telling stories while we share a drink or two. And there's a vision I've been holding in my mind, we're 65 and you ask when did I first know?" Tears begin to fall down her cheeks, the purest smile she has ever had stuck on her face. “I always knew.” They whisper at the same time in a broken voice, Charlie trying very hard not to cry at their matched answer so he can finish the song.

“I want the world to witness, when we finally say I do. It's the way you love, I gotta give it back to you. I see us in black and white, crystal clear on a star lit night, In all your gorgeous colors. I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life.”

He finishes the song, puts down the guitar while taking a deep breath and kneels carefully in front of her. “It has always been you. It was you when we were 8 years old and only you could borrow my best crayons, It was you when we were 16 and I learned to drive because you had no one to take you to your auditions, and It was you when we were 22 and I asked you to move in with me because I couldn’t stand be apart from you again. You are the only one with whom I feel as ecstatic as when I jump into the sea, and all you have to do is look at me to achieve it. You are light, Y/N. This beautiful bright star that for some reason, always chooses me. I love you so much, beautiful. You are the love of my life, It will always be you.”

She can't stop the tears falling down her face, her hand lovingly caressing the cheek of the man in front of her. "Y/N Y/L, will you marry me?" She doesn’t give him time to react and joins their lips hard, trying desperately to make him feel everything she is feeling in those moments. He responds fervently, taking her with one hand firmly by the thigh while with the other caresses her neck, confidently putting his hand inside the hoodie.

She bites his pouty lower lip to smoothly slide her tongue, and he strokes her breasts gently before removing his hand from the collar of her clothing. When they finally separate to breathe, Y/N's eyes move to what Charlie is holding in front of her, a precious ring dangling from a golden chain that she has apparently been wearing as a necklace for who knows how many hours.

“Yes, yes, yes. I would always choose you Char.” Y/N gets up and helps Charlie to his feet, only to pull him close and bring his body against hers, her hands entwining in his hair while his arms wrap around her hips. His face shining with happiness. “The necklace was a smart move. Since when have I been wearing it?” She asks while staring deeply at his dazzling green eyes.

“You are unable to keep a ring on your finger for more than three days, there was no other option. I put it on after you fell asleep on the road.”

"This is the first time you managed to fool me. I totally thought you were going to propose in Canada."

“I know it wasn't glamorous but-”

“Shh, it was perfect. The song is beautiful, the ring looks just as I always dreamed of and you are all I want and more. I have never been happier. Heck, you could have asked me this morning while we were in our pajamas watching cartoons and I would have cried with joy anyway. Char, you're everything I need.” He kisses her deeply, releasing all the emotions that had had him stressed throughout the day, enjoying the company of his future wife and the way that only she knows how to melt him.

He lets go briefly to search something in his phone, and the melody he just played starts to fill the comfortable silence.

“It’s my favorite song already.” She whispers against his lips, a small smile in the corner of her mouth.

“It’s all yours, just like me.” Both laugh at how cheesy it sounded, dancing in each other's arms under the stars. Silently thanking God for having found their soulmate in this life.

Although he swears he has enough energy to dance the night away, after an hour Y/N notices just how tired Charlie actually is, and drags him to the tent to get some rest.

“Baby, I’m okay. I want to celebrate all night with you.” He whispers in her ear, catching her by the waist the moment she leans his head against the pillow to prevent her from getting up.

“Easy there, tiger. You can't even keep your eyes open. You drove nonstop for hours without complaining once just because you know I don't like driving. You did the hardest work with the tent and the fire, plus all the time we spent hiking. You need to rest.” His grasp on her loosens and she moves quickly to his side. He turns over his shoulder and leans on her chest, wrapping his arm around her waist.

She smiles at the sight and starts to softly play with his curls while singing him to sleep. “I fell in love at first sight, green eyes that fix it all. Your heart, it feels it all.” All the times she seeked the comfort in his beautiful eyes during the years replaying in her head. The way they shined with love and confusion that first day at the jatp bootcamp replaying in her mind.

“And I, I can't believe that you're mine.” She lets go of his hair to admire the ring around her neck with more attention, but his hand instantly reaches for hers and puts it back on his hair, making her chuckle. “You take away every breath. I can't believe I'm still speechless.” She whispers, planting small kisses on his hair, inhaling the scent of his shampoo as she wraps him in her arms.

“Charles Gillespie, It will always be you.”

Thanks for reading ✨

Taglist: @writerinlearning @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15 @magnet-girl @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05 @twist3dtinkerbell @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01 @lunashadow6955 @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @blackhood5sos @dpaccione @tuttigunner @calamitykaty @owensgoathat @magicalxdaydream @sunsetcurvej @ss-tipton @rangerelik @badwolf00593 @fobobozobo @justalittleweirdoo

#charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie imagines #luke jatp #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson fic

344 notes · View notes

brywrites · 4 years ago

Text

Little Beautiful

Summary: In which Max’s art exhibit is a gallery of beautiful things, and Spencer Reid finds himself surprised by what it includes. Spencer Reid x Max Brenner

.......

Spencer Reid can name many beautiful things. He can talk in depth about the natural splendor of the Golden Ratio and why humans love symmetry. He can explain the history of the Venus de Milo and the Mona Lisa, recount the painstaking detail with which the Taj Mahal was built. He’s seen desert sunsets and shooting stars and the faces of parents reunited with children they thought they might never see again.

He loves all the great and beautiful things in the world. And nobody quite makes the world look as beautiful as Max does. She’s protective of her art, fiercely private about it, but the glimpses she allows him stun him. Then again, he figures he shouldn’t be surprised. After all, she’s beautiful.

Reid thinks he could never tire of looking at her. Her wide, brown eyes, her long eyelashes, the way her cheeks are painted pink each time he pushes her hair back from her face. Her smile just knocks him out. Her movements are graceful, elegant. And the sight of her bare body in the soft light of his bedroom makes him think that no word in any language could ever even hope to come close to describing this sort of perfection.

Everything about her puts a sunset to shame. Her laugh. The way she makes him smile on the worst days. The softness of her touch when her skin is on his. The warmth of her embrace. The kindness of her heart. There’s no doubt, Maxine Brenner is beautiful, in every sense of the grossly inadequate word.

But beauty has a way of reminding him of his own inadequacies. For all his love of lovely things, Reid knows the word is never one he could hope to claim. His face won’t ever inspire poetry. His hair is, at best, an unruly mess. His stubble is always a little scruffier than he’d like it to be. And while he managed to get physically stronger after Milburn, getting in shape didn’t quite happen. He can hold an unsub on the ground without worry, but he’s absolutely terrified each time he undresses before her.

But he loves her. Which is why when she hands him a flyer that reads, Little Beautiful, he knows he’ll say yes to whatever it is before she even explains.

“I have a confession to make,” Max says. “I didn’t want to tell you sooner because I was afraid I might jinx it, but now that it’s all official – I’m going to have an exhibition at Jolie Laide!” Jolie Laide is one of the District’s most revered contemporary commercial galleries, and Max is understandably over the moon.

“What?” he gasps. “When did this happen? How?”

“There was a call for submissions, and well I’ve been working on this idea for a while and I figured why not give it a shot? Spencer, they loved it! They actually loved my art!” she says, and the little hop of joy in her step makes him want to kiss her right there in the middle of the street. Is she even aware of how adorable she is?

“That’s incredible. I mean, I’m not surprised. Everything you do is incredible. But what’s the title mean?” he asks, pointing at the flyer.

“It’s a Van Gogh reference,” she says, and he smiles. Of course it is. The Dutch master will always have a spot in her heart, and in the small “Starry Night” tattoo on her inner arm. “Find things beautiful as much as you can,” she recites. “Most people find too little beautiful.”

She takes his hand in hers. Her hands are small and dainty. He could almost close his fingers around hers completely. It makes him think he must look so strange beside her, a mess of lanky limbs.

“I know that big parties aren’t really your scene,” Max says. “But the opening night is kind of a big deal and it would really mean a lot to me if you came.”

“Are you kidding me?” he laughs. They turn down the street to his apartment. “You’re my girlfriend. We’ve been dating for five months, three weeks, and five days. Of course I’m going to be there.”

“Well good. And tell your friends! The more the merrier. I think you’re really gonna like it,” she adds, with that mischievous sparkle in her eyes that makes his stomach flip.

“If you made it, I know I’ll love it.” Deciding the doorstep of his building is close enough, he leans down to kiss her.

Two weeks later, he finds himself standing in the lobby of Jolie Laide with the rest of his team. Many of them have decided to make a date night of the event, as it’s not often profilers have the excuse to attend a formal event. Reid shifts nervously from foot to foot as they wait for the doors to open. Somehow he still feels out of place in nice suit, wearing the “Starry Night” tie she bought him at a work trip she took to the MoMA. Everyone here looks so beautiful, and he feels like he’s playing dress up, like they’ll all be able to tell he doesn’t belong in a place like this. He’s all too aware of the way he hasn’t managed to tame his hair, of the way his shirt fits a little tighter than it used to, of the way the people around him exude an air effortless cool that he could never hope to.

To ease his mind, he takes comfort in counting the people waiting. They’re all here for Max, for the beautiful things she makes. The last time he was at a gallery opening like this he was standing in a sweater vest next to Gideon who was flirting with the artist while Reid tried not to stare too much at Lila Archer. The memory makes him want to laugh – how infatuated he felt at that time with her. And now with Max, he can’t imagine thinking such a feeling was love. It’s so different than the consuming warmth he feels when he’s with her, the way hearing her voice can bring him back down to earth when his mind moves too quickly, the way he he’s always hated touch but never seems to mind when it’s her. Rather he craves the feeling of her hand in his, her arms around him, her lips on his skin. He’s in love with her, and he’s in deep.

The clock strikes seven and the doors are opened. They step into the bright white gallery space. The moment he’s inside, he is in awe. He recognizes Max’s work immediately, and it’s everywhere. There are large canvas paintings of small objects that take up so much space. There are paintings that must be zoomed in, hyper-focused views of much bigger objects. And it’s all beautiful. Max’s work has the same mastery over colors as the Impressionists, but with contemporary details and precision. Her paintings don’t just look like something, they feel like something. There is a series of pieces of stunningly detailed school supplies – a crayon, a yellow pencil, a bottle of glue. They seem to reflect light, possessing colors far too rich for items so simple.

Max has made them lovely with her gaze, with her hands.

In one painting, a vibrant sunset is seen through a small window. In another, the trunk of a tree is made to look so close that the leaves the viewer stares up at are but a golden blur. Fruit, a butterfly’s wing, and a flower are made into a kaleidoscope of colors. He catches glimpses of familiar faces in portraits – her sister Michelle’s eye, her father’s hand, identifiable by his watch, holding a baseball with vibrant red stitching.

“Wow,” Simmons says, standing beside him. “This is amazing. I mean, I don’t always get art, you know? But damn. Max is talented.”

“She sure is,” Reid says. But he’s only half listening, because he’s taken in by it, by all of it. This is the world through Max’s eyes. All these little details, all the little beautiful things that she sees. And she has reflected them back to the world in a way that takes his breath away.

The unfamiliar voice of an man calls the gallery to attention through a microphone, and Reid makes his way back towards the entrance where all the guests are slowly gathering.

“I now have the pleasure of introducing tonight’s guest of honor, Maxine Brenner,” a man with tiny wire-rimmed classes says.

Reid joins the crowd, falling into place beside Garcia and JJ just in time to see Max walk over in a white lace dress. She is utterly radiant, resplendent. His heart quickens at the sight of her. She takes the microphone and thanks the man with a dazzling smile. “Thank you all for being here,” she says. “It’s truly an honor to share this night with you, and I’m thankful to Jolie Laide for the opportunity to do so. It’s no secret to anyone who knows me that Van Gogh is my favorite artist. He once said, find things beautiful as much as you can. Most people find too little beautiful. The concept for this exhibit was to find all the beautiful things that we overlook. I wanted to pay attention to their little details and find new ways to show the world what beautiful is and what it could be. Every painting is of something I’ve found lovely – whether it’s a natural phenomenon seen through a new lens or an everyday object that just needs someone to notice it or a person–”

She pauses and her gaze moves over the crowd until she spots him. And that mischievous glimmer returns to her eyes. “– who doesn’t realize how beautiful they are. I hope that tonight helps you all to see the beauty around you and in yourselves, and maybe encourages you to see things a little differently, and to find the world a little more beautiful.” As she bows, the room bursts into applause and he swells with pride. This is her moment, and she’s beaming, and he couldn’t be more happy for her.

He wants to go up and hug her, but a swarm of admirers immediately descends upon her with enthusiastic questions and curious remarks. This is her night. He knows that when she wants to talk to him, she’ll let him know. For now, he’ll let these strangers have their moment with her – he can have all of the time in the world with her. The team opts to take a break to help themselves to the refreshment table and Emily offers to grab him a drink, but he politely refuses. He wants to keep walking around.

He can’t help but smile as he does so, hearing the praise and wonder in the words of the other guests. Yes, he wants to tell them. Yes, she’s that talented. Yes, she notices things nobody else does. And she’s hilarious and generous and gorgeous and somehow, somehow I am hers. But how unsightly it would be of him, in his suit and crooked tie, with his messy hair and off-balance gait to interrupt these strangers reveling at the beauty before them. So he stays quiet, happy just to be here. Happy to have the privilege to even witness such beauty.

When he turns the corner, he’s grateful he declined that drink because if there were a glass in his hand, he surely would have dropped it. Many of Max’s pieces are gathered on walls or in corners in groups based on themes or subjects. And in this particular nook, he finds himself uncomfortably familiar with the face staring back at him from one of them. The same face he has stared down in the mirror a thousand times.

It strikes him – Max has painted him. Reid steps closer and realizes it’s not just one painting. The whole wall is him. There is a painting of just one honey-colored eye, gazing down. A hand on the spine of a book. His lips, slightly parted, just a little uneven. His shoulders and collarbone, the slope of his neck and the curve of his chin, a few wild curls visible in the narrow view of the painting. And two portraits where his face is fully visible.

The brushstrokes are so careful, the colors so soft. She paints him in curves and edges and tiny hints of unexpected hues. She paints him with such detail, as though she has tried to memorize every inch of him. She has painted him beautiful.

And for a thirty-six seconds he can’t breathe. He just stares. Because this is how she sees him. And she’s put it on display for all the world to see.

“There’s a level of precision in these that I didn’t see in the other portraits,” an older woman says to a young woman beside her. “I can’t explain it, but it somehow feels like they were more… lovingly painted.”

“Like she knew exactly how they should feel,” her companion agrees.

“The subject has such a striking jawline,” a man says to the woman holding his hand. “And I like the way she painted his hair. Every curl is so careful.”

“It’s really beautiful,” she says, pointing to one of the portraits. Max has painted him smiling, gazing upwards, and he isn’t even sure if he’s capable of looking that way. “I think this one might be my favorite overall.” When they step aside, he can read the small placard on the wall naming the paintings. It reads, “And if I asked you to name all the things you love, how long would it take for you to name yourself?” Series. Oil on canvas. 2020.

Reid swallows hard, past the lump of emotions lodged in his throat, and turns quickly to walk to another corner of the gallery, both to avoid recognition and because if he keeps looking he thinks he might cry. But when he turns, she’s standing right there. Looking up at him through her long lashes, her graceful hands clasped in front of her as she waits in that lovely lace dress.

“Do you like it?” she asks him, nodding at the corner.

“I don’t understand,” he says. “Why did you paint me?”

Max smiles. “I told you, Magic Man, I wanted to paint pretty things.”

He shakes his head. “But I’m not – I mean, look at me, I’m–”

“I am looking.” She reaches up to brush her fingers against his cheek, having to stand on her toes even in heels to do so. “And you are beautiful. My beautiful. I wanted to show you the way I see you. Because of all the beautiful things, none of them make me feel quite like you do.”

Max takes his hand and walks up to the paintings. She says nothing, just waits as he looks at them close up, unafraid of someone realizing he’s looking at himself. He stares at the light and shadows created by her paintbrush. The bright colors that draw attention over painted skin. The soft gaze, the eyes that seem to look so alive. Stray freckles, flecks of tan and gold. It feels so astonishingly intimate. There’s no denying that her work is remarkable. It is beautiful.

And this is how she sees him. Worthy of that sort of attention. Capable of bringing those kinds of colors to life. And when he faces her, he realizes – the painting with the smile. He does look that way. He can feel the movement of the muscles in his face forming a near mirror image as he realizes he only ever looks that way at her.

“Thank you,” he says. Max pulls him down to kiss him, her lips so sweet, and it feels beautiful. He thinks that if they were not here, surrounded by other people, that he would love nothing more than to avail her of that beautiful dress and paint patterns of her skin with his fingertips, give every inch of her the same level of attention with his lips that she did with her paints, and whisper over and over to her just how lovely he finds her.

But they’re not alone, not yet. “Well I’ll be damned,” Morgan says. All of his friends are there, having discovered this nook of the gallery. “Look at that! She somehow managed to make you look even prettier than usual, Pretty Boy.” Reid flushes crimson as they praise Max’s work. She joins them to walk around the rest of the gallery, her hand in his, and from time to time he swears he can see someone staring at the two of them, and he knows they recognize his face. But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care how the rest of the world looks at him, so long as he knows the way he looks through her eyes. For the first time, he can see himself the way she sees him. As he is, not as he fears he is.

Somehow, this has become his life. Walking through a gallery of paintings made by his favorite person, while she gazes at him like he’s her only muse, telling him that he belongs among lovely things. Somehow believing it all. Somehow at home surrounded by strangers and a few of the people he trusts most. This is his life. And what a beautiful life it is.

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x max #spencer reid x max brenner #max brenner #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #criminal minds #fanfiction #imagine #little beautiful #brywrites

89 notes · View notes

leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 5 years ago

Text

BTS DRABBLE

Anon Request: Dad!Bangtan and their kids get jealous of them kissing you.

Tags: BTS, BTS Drabble, anon request, fluff, jin x you, yoongi x you, hoseok x you, namjoon x you, jimin x you, taehyung x you, jungkook x you, dad!bangtan, Dad AU, Husband AU

Genre: Fluff

Title: “Me too!”

KIM SEOKJIN

“Why do we have to take daddy to the airport?”

Your daughter asked from the backseat, intently focused on the coloring book in her lap as she scribbled with crayons.

You didn’t look back at her as you focused on navigating the car through the busy Seoul traffic, taking the exit for the airport as you saw Jin turn around in the corner of your eye as he said, “We told you, baby. Daddy has to go on a trip for awhile with your uncles.”

You flashed him a soft smile as he turned back around to face the front after addressing your daughter, and he returned the expression, reaching over to lay his hand on your thigh as you drove.

“But I miss you when you’re gone.” You heard your daughter pout from the backseat.

Glancing in the rear view mirror, as you reached the airport and found the departure gate, you noted your daughter’s furrowed brow and pursed lips, as you laughed softly and said, “I know, baby. Mommy misses daddy when he’s gone too. But he’ll be back before we know it.”

Stopping the car at the curb, the traffic flowing smoothly around you, Jin turned around once again in his seat and offered your daughter a dazzling smile, as he reached back to take her small hand in his, her dark eyes, so much like his own, scanning her father’s face worriedly. “Hey, baby. Don’t worry. I promise, I’ll call you and mommy every night. And we can even video chat whenever you want.”

After a brief hesitation, she nodded, and Jin released her hand, turning back to you. He noticed the slight pout on your own face, as he chuckled softly, and reached out to cup your cheek in his hand, running his soft thumb over your lips as he said quietly, “Hey, don’t tell me you’re gonna miss me too.”

“Of course not” You scoffed out teasingly, covering his hand on your face with your own. “I’m just sad I’ll have to be the one to cook for a month.”

He laughed, and leaned over to press a kiss to your lips. Pulling back just a bit, he breathed out, his breath warm on your cheeks, “I love you.”

Giving you one more lingering kiss, the moment was interrupted by your daughter’s voice, loud in your ears, saying, her tone insulted, “Okay, okay, my turn now daddy!”

You felt him smile against your lips before you broke apart and you both looked back to see your daughter, released from her seatbelt, standing in the space between the two front seats, her arms folded across her chest grumpily as she glared at the two of you.

“Sorry, baby.” He leaned over, cupping her rosy cheeks in his hands as he smacked a loud kiss onto her lips.

When he pulled back, she glared at him again, even more deadly than the first time, and said indignantly, “No fair. Mommy got two kisses.”

You laughed at the look of surprise on your husband’s face, and then he grinned as he said, “Oh, my bad. How about I give you three?”

Leaning back over, her pressed two more kisses to her lips, as she giggled under his attack.

Sighing, he pulled back reluctantly, reaching for the door as he glanced between the two of you. “Well, I guess it’s time.”

“Be safe.” You said, as you waved to him, before he got out of the car and retrieved his bags from the trunk.

With one last wave back at the two of you, he disappeared into the airport and was gone from view.

MIN YOONGI

Glancing up as your husband flopped down on the couch beside you, you watched in amusement as he carded his hand through his hair, before he sighed and said wearily, “She’s finally in bed. Bedtime was a damn battle tonight.”

“Ah, baby.” You pushed yourself up from the couch and moved over to straddle him, your knees pressed into the cushions on either side of his hips, your hands holding yourself up on the back of the couch on either side of his head. He let his head fall back against the couch so he could look up at you, as you said teasingly, pushing his hair back from his forehead, “My brave soldier. You fought such a good fight.”

“You know.” he raised an eyebrow at you, offering you a half smile, his lips curled up, his voice suggestive. “Usually there’s some type of reward for the conquering hero.”

“Oh?” You grinned at him, leaning closer, your lips almost touching his, as you murmured, “What did you have in mind?”

“You’re such a brat.” He growled out, and you laughed, but the sound was cut off as he abruptly covered your mouth with his.

His lips were soft and full against your own, his breath hot as it escaped from his parted mouth, and he darted his tongue out to trace the inside of your mouth, causing you to let out a soft gasp. You felt his fingers dig into your hip bones, warm and rough against the skin underneath your shirt, as he pulled you down to sit fully in his lap, your hands going around his neck and your fingers burying themselves in his dark hair.

His hands, long fingers stroking your skin, had just started to slide their way up your ribs beneath your shirt, when you heard, “Mommy? Daddy?” from behind you.

“Shit.” You breathed against his open mouth, as you felt him grimace in response to the voice, pulling away from him instantly, scrambling off his lap and onto the couch beside him as you smoothed down your hair, your eyes darting to the small form of your daughter in the mouth of the hallway.

You glanced over at Yoongi, as he hurriedly pulled a pillow across his lap, trying to hide the obvious signs of arousal awoken by kissing you from his young daughter.

“What are you doing out of bed?” You asked, trying to keep your voice normal, as she stepped farther into the living room, her favorite stuffy held in her arms, her eyes darting between the two of you.

“I needed a drink.” She said innocently, and then asked, “What were you and daddy doing?”

“Um.” You glanced over at Yoongi for help, and he raised an eyebrow at you, shrugging. Rolling your eyes, you turned back to your daughter. “We were kissing.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion, and then a weird look came over her face, as she said, her tone slightly hurt, “But that’s not how you kiss me.”

Stifling back a chuckle from beside you, Yoongi finally spoke up, as he said affectionately, humor in his voice, “Yeah, baby, we know. That’s a special kind of kissing. Just for mommies and daddies.”

She glared at the two of you, obviously put out by his explanation, and still upset that you didn’t kiss her “that way.”

Sighing, you stood from the couch, pushing her in front of you as you headed back down the hallway. “Okay, that’s enough little miss. Back to bed.”

As you tucked her back into bed, she glanced up at you, still a little grumpy, as she muttered out, “I still don’t think it’s fair.”

You laughed slightly, as you pressed a kiss to her head before turning out the light. “I know, baby. But some day, you’ll understand. Some day you can kiss someone like that too.”

She harumphed and buried herself under the covers, and you shut the door quietly behind you, laughing to yourself as you went back into the living room. Sitting down on the couch beside Yoongi, one arm thrown over the back as you faced him, you raised an eyebrow and glanced at the pillow still in his lap, saying in amusement, “How’s the situation under the pillow going?”

He groaned and flopped back on the couch as he covered his eyes with his hand. “She totally ruined the moment. I don’t even know if I’m in the mood anymore.”

Grinning, you took his hand and pulled him up from the couch, pushing him toward your bedroom as you whispered in his ear, “I bet we can get the mood back.” Pressing a kiss to his ear, you finished in amusement, “But in our bedroom this time. Behind locked doors.”

JUNG HOSEOK

You watched, a large grin creeping across your features, as the twins danced around the practice room with their father, “Mic Drop” blaring across the speakers.

Jungkook, leaning on the table beside you, chuckled as one of the twins tried to copy Hobi’s movements, his hands going out to the side to signify the drop of the microphone as he struggled to follow his father’s fancy footwork. “They’re naturals.”

You laughed in response, glancing over at him, as you leaned closer to him to be heard above the music. “Well, they do have dance in their DNA.”

The song ended, as the three dancers struck up the ending pose in the middle of the room, and one of the twins dropped the toy mic onto the floor, copying his Uncle Yoongi’s face almost exactly, before you burst into applause.

Laughing, you watched as Hobi scooped up the twins in his arms, covering their faces with kisses as they giggled and squirmed, as he called out proudly, “That was so good, guys! Daddy’s so proud of you both!”

Releasing them, they ran over to where you and Jungkook were watching, grabbing their young uncle’s legs as they looked up at him, shouting over one another in chaos, “Did you see us, Kookie? Did you??”

Hobi approached you, and you handed him a water bottle, as he gave you a slightly breathless smile in thanks, pushing his sweaty hair back up off his forehead as he took a deep swig of the drink. Sighing out contentedly after another gulp of the water, he threw his arm around your shoulders, both of you watching the boys talk to Jungkook, as he said, pride evident in his voice, “They were good today, huh?”

You nodded, watching the twins as they excitedly gestured to their uncle, telling him some sort of story loudly and with vigor. “Yeah, they’ve really caught on fast. But It’s not a surprise, considering who their father is.” You grinned over at him, reaching out to sweep his damp hair back once again from his forehead.

“They’ll outdance me sooner than I expected.” He grinned back at you, his whole face lighting with the action.

“Now, don’t get ahead of yourself. You are the king of dance after all. I think you’ve got a few years left.” You patted his cheek affectionately, as you teased him gently.

“Yeah, yeah.” He leaned over, fitting his lips to yours, just briefly, as he placed a kiss on your lips, the salty taste of sweat lingering after he pulled back from you.

“Hey!”

You glanced over your shoulder at one of the twins indignant outburst, and you were met with two boys, their hands on their hips, glaring at the two of you.

“Uh oh.” Hobi muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes as he stared at his sons, their faces lowered into dark scowls. “Here we go again.”

“You can’t kiss her! That’s OUR mommy!” The other twin yelled out, as his brother nodded avidly in agreement.

Jungkook looked over at you, his brow raised in amusement, his lips open slightly as if to ask what was going on. “You remember how I told you we were going through a possessive stage?” You asked quietly, as you moved to crouch down in front of the twins, glancing up at the boy standing behind them. At his nod, you continued, glancing between your sons, their attention still grumpily on their offending father. “Well, that also applies to me.”

You reached out, lying a hand on each of their shoulders, forcing them to look at you, as you said gently, trying to hold back a smile, “Boys, we’ve talked about this. I’m your mommy, yes. But I’m also daddy’s wife. And that means he gets to kiss me too.”

“No! Why?” The twins yelled out in unison, their brows furrowed in confusion at your words.

“Because, she was mine first.” Hobi sat down beside you on the floor, crossing his long legs in front of him. At your elbow in his side at his teasing and unhelpful words, he winced slightly and then hurried on with, “Besides, mommy has lots of kisses. She can give some to you and still have some for me.”

“And other people too.” You piped up, the gentle smile now on your lips as you watched the confused boys in front of you. “Kookie, come here.” You motioned to him and he sat down beside you, and you leaned over to him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before looking over at the twins. “See? Kookie can have a kiss.” You leaned over and kissed Hobi’s cheek, lingering for a brief moment before you pulled back. “And daddy. And now, you.” You grinned at the twins, as you gathered them into your arms, peppering kisses all over their face as they giggled. “Everyone can have mommy kisses.”

The twins, seemingly satisfied with the explanation, grabbed Jungkook’s hands and dragged him off into the practice room. Letting out a sigh, you leaned back on your hands, as Hobi glanced over at you and said quietly, “Okay, but I can get extra kisses later, right?”

You laughed at the jealousy now apparent in his own voice. “Always.”

KIM NAMJOON

“Ah, do you remember how nice the weather was that day?” You asked, a smile slipping across your lips as you watched the footage play across the TV screen. “It was practically the warmest day of Spring we’ve ever had in Seoul.”

You watched for a moment, as you appeared on the screen in your white gown, standing at the end of the aisle in the park, as the crowd of your families all rose at your entrance. You held your bouquet tightly in your hands, your face covered from sight by a lacy opaque veil. But you knew, underneath, out of sight, you were smiling. Because this was the first time that day that you had seen Joon.

Watching yourself walk down the aisle toward him, your steps measured, your dad at your side, your handsome husband to be waiting at the end of the aisle, his eyes slightly teary, it felt as if it had all just happened yesterday.

“How have we been married for so long already?” You asked, slight disbelief coloring your words, as you glanced over at your husband. “Wait, are you crying?” You whispered to him over your kids’ heads when you caught sight of him, a slight grin coming across your lips at his show of emotion.

He was so cute.

“Well, yeah, I mean.” He returned your gaze, wiping at his wet cheeks as he sniffed slightly, his voice hoarse “It was the best day of our lives. And I feel like I’m living it over again when I watch the footage.”

“Ah, babe, you’re so sweet.” You rubbed his shoulders with your fingertips, your arm stretched across the back of the couch, as you smiled softy at him.

He returned the gesture, reaching up to clasp your hand in his own, as he turned shiny eyes back to the TV screen. You watched as Joon, on the screen, leaned forward and flipped your veil back over your head, revealing your face. You both grinned at each other stupidly, so clearly in love that no one else mattered, and then he leaned forward, and your lips met, amidst a chorus of cheers from the audience.

Glancing down at your daughter, sitting tucked in to your side, you noticed a disgruntled look on her five year old face as she watched your wedding day. “Hey, baby. What’s wrong?” You asked her, tousling her long hair as you did so.

She glanced up at you and then said, crossing her arms over her chest, “I wanted to go to see you and daddy get married. I wanted to wear a pretty dress too!”

Chuckling, you leaned over to kiss the top of her head, as you said soothingly, “I know honey, but you weren’t born yet.”

The movie ended, and Joon pushed himself up off the couch to turn on the lights. When the light revealed your son, who had been sitting next to Joon, there were large, crocodile tears rolling down his cheeks, as his little face scrunched up in despair.

“Wait, wait, wait. Why are you crying?” You asked, trying to hold back your laughter as Joon sat down on the couch beside his son, putting an arm around him as he pulled him on to his lap. The three year old snuggled against his father, as you raised an eyebrow at your husband, saying in a slightly amused tone, “There’s too much crying going on in this room. This was supposed to be fun!”

“But I....I wanted....” The little boy stuttered out through his tears, his voice shuddering as he drew in dramatic breaths. “I wanted to see daddy and mommy kiss. And I wasn’t there, so they didn’t kiss me too!”

Joon shot you a devastated look, as the toddler continued to wail over the unfair circumstances from his father’s arms. Glancing down at your daughter, who was still being grumpy about not getting to wear a fancy dress, you said, letting out a sigh, “Alright. I have an idea.” The kids looked over at you, the younger quieting as you spoke. “Let’s go put on some dress up clothes, and we can do the wedding over again, with both of you there this time.”

“Yay!” Your daughter leapt off the couch, your son, his tears forgotten, sliding down to toddle after her as they disappeared down the hall.

Grinning at Joon, he grinned back at you and then said, “I can’t wait to marry you again.”

PARK JIMIN

You arrived backstage the night of the concert, your daughter perched on your hip, your diaper bag thrown over the other shoulder. Smiling at some of the make up artists and stylists and saying hi to a few as you passed down the halls of the large venue, you finally reached the boys’ rest area.

Pushing through the door, you could already hear excited chatter from the other side, as they readied themselves to perform the large show in a few hours. Your daughter giggled when she heard the familiar voices, and she squirmed in your arms, pointing with chubby fingers toward the room, her eyes lighting up as she babbled out, “Dada?”

“Yeah, princess. Daddy’s in here!” You told her as you entered, slinging the heavy diaper bag down gratefully on the nearest couch as you did so.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” A chorus of cheerful hellos filled the room as the boys caught sight of you. Jungkook cam over and hugged you, pinching the little girl’s cheeks as she laughed at his antics, and Hobi came over for a moment to plant a noisy kiss on her chubby cheek, making her laugh again at her uncles.

“Baby!” Jimin’s voice carried across the room, as he spun around in his chair where he was having his hair done. He stood up, already in his stage outfit, and your breath caught as he crossed the room to you, a large smile gracing his perfectly full, pink lips at the sight of you two. You would never get over how handsome he was-his silver hair falling perfectly across his flawless brow, his lips a perfect bow, his cheekbones high arches across his face.

How did you get so lucky?

“Baby? You okay?” You startled out of your thoughts at Jimin’s pet name for you, as he looked at you worriedly and placed a hand against the small of your back.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m fine.” You said, a slight blush marking your cheeks as he suddenly grinned at you rather slyly, as if he knew what you had been thinking about.

You were grateful when he remained quiet, and instead, turned to his daughter, who had her arms held out to him as she said over and over, “Dada, dada, dada.”

“Hey, princess!” Jimin took the little girl from you, his eyes sparkling, as he set her on his own hip, poking her cheeks playfully as she grinned at him, her two bottom teeth flashing against her pink gums. Leaning over,he pulled you closer to the two of them, as he pressed a deep kiss to your lips.

“Me!” You heard your daughter’s voice say, and you both glanced over at her, Jimin’s mouth open slightly in an “O”, his trademark expression of surprise, as she watched you intently, and then pursed her own lips toward her father.

He raised a slender brow at you, and leaned over to her, pressing a quick kiss to her tiny lips, before he said in amusement, “Wait, let’s try that again. Maybe it was a fluke.”

You grinned at him, as he lowered his lips to yours once more. And once again, as soon as your lips met, you heard the little girl on his hip call out, “Me!”

Laughing as he gave her another kiss, he jiggled her a little on his hip as he exclaimed, “Looks like someone’s a little jealous.”

“I mean. Now we know for sure that she’s your kid.” You shot him a wicked grin as you playfully cupped his cheek in your hand. “She has to have all the attention on her.”

“Hey!” He shot you a playful glare, and you laughed, making your daughter laugh as well at the sound. “Anyway.” He glanced over at his daughter, as she reached up to play with one of the silver earrings dangling from his ear. “I want to kiss mommy again. Can I do that, princess?”

She looked at her father, shook her head, pursed her lips, and shouted, “Me!”

You both laughed, as he gave in, pressing one more kiss to your daughter’s lips.

KIM TAEHYUNG

“Hey guys.” You said, as you came into the bedroom, setting down your briefcase with a sigh, as you glanced over to where your husband was playing with your daughter in the corner of the room.

They looked up at your entrance, your daughter dressed in play clothes and a crown, and Tae wearing an outfit that looked slightly like a pirate, complete with bandanna tied around his head in a haphazard manner. He flashed you a large grin, as your daughter said, “Hey, mommy. Wanna play with us?”

You smiled at them, crossing the room to kneel down beside her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, as you settled yourself onto the floor next to them. “What are you playing?”

“Castle.” Your daughter replied matter of factly, handing her father a bowl and a spoon and ordering him, “Drink this.”

He raised an eyebrow at you as he sipped whatever was in the pretend soup, and you laughed at his faces as he drank whatever your daughter had just pretended to cook for him.

“Where’s Tan? is he not allowed to play with you?” You asked, as your daughter handed you a plastic pink tea cup.

“He was, but then he got banned.” She said, not looking up from pouring your “tea, “ her lips pursed in a line as she concentrated. “Because he chewed on Mr. Stuffy.”

“Oh.” You hid your smile as you raised the teacup to your lips, sipping it as you glanced over to Tae.

“How was work?” He asked, handing the bowl back to your daughter, who was busy stirring something. .

“Long. And I missed you guys.” You said, letting out a sigh as you set down the teacup on your knees.

“We missed you too. Speaking of which...” A sly look came over Tae’s face, as he came up in his knees and leaned over to kiss you, his tongue darting out briefly to flit across your bottom lip before he pulled back.

“No! Stop!” The quick kiss had drawn your daughter’s attention, as she screeched at the two of you, pointing at Tae with a play spoon as she said, glaring, “You can’t kiss her. The prince can only kiss the princess!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, my lady.” Tae bowed his head, hiding his smile, as he answered her apologetically. He leaned over to kiss her cheek, and she seemed satisfied, as she went back to cooking.

“Are you the princess then? And daddy’s the prince?” You asked, as you watched her intent movements, banging around the plastic pots and pans as if she were running a top tier kitchen.

“Yes.”

You raised an eyebrow at Tae in amusement, before you asked, “So who am I?”

“You’re the ugly witch.” Your daughter said, without missing a beat, her voice obvious, as she didn’t even look up at you.

Your mouth dropped open, and Tae laughed loudly at your reaction, reaching out to put a large hand on your knee, his skin warm against your own, as he wiggled his eyebrows at you and mouthed, “I’d still do you.”

“Shut up.” You grumbled, as your daughter handed you another cup of tea to drink, and hiding your shame behind the plastic rim, you stuck your tongue out at Tae as he once again began to laugh.

JEON JUNGKOOK

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The beeping of the alarm clock was loud in your ears, as you groaned and reached out blindly, slapping a hand against your husband’s chest as you muttered, “Kook. Turn off the alarm.”

When there was no response, you opened your eyes and let out a heavy sigh, pushing yourself up to glare down at your still sleeping husband. “How do you sleep so heavily?” You muttered under your breath, as you leaned over him to hit the off button on the alarm clock.

“Kook.” You leaned down into his face, you breath brushing across his skin, before you pressed a kiss to the skin below his ear. He stirred slightly, letting out a long breath, and you smiled to yourself, as you said again, a little more loudly, “Kook.”

He groaned this time, and threw an arm up to cover his eyes, as he grumbled out, his voice still thick with sleep, “What?”

“It’s time to get up.” You lowered your body on top of his, so that you were lying on top of him, your bodies flush against one another, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in his chest as you said, your voice muffled, “The alarm went off.”

“If you want me to get up, why are you laying on top of me?” You heard him murmur out, as you felt his arms go around you in return and his hands start to soothingly stroke up and down your back.

“Because waking you up made me tired again.” You offered, smiling against the material of his t-shirt, your face hidden from his view.

He heaved a sigh beneath you, and then said, his voice slightly clearer and more awake, “Do I have to go?”

At his words, you tilted your head back, resting your chin on his chest, as you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his dark ones. “It’s a mandatory meeting. About your tour. Yes, you have to go.”

He groaned, and you laughed, reaching up to push his dark hair off his forehead as he whined, “But you’re warm. And our bed is so comfortable.” He buried his face in your hair, nuzzling his nose against your head as his arms tightened around you once again.

“Mommy? Daddy?”

“You glanced toward the doorway of your bedroom at the voice, your son standing there, watching the two of you. “Come here, babe.” You motioned with your fingers, Kook’s face still buried in your hair.

Dragging his favorite stuffed animal behind him, your son crawled up onto the bed beside the two of you, snuggling down against his father’s side, as you reached out to brush through his hair with your fingers, the dark locks so much like his father’s “Did you sleep okay, babe?”

He nodded, and you felt Jungkook stir underneath you, pulling back a bit to look down at his son as he said, his voice warm with affection, “You okay, buddy?”

“Yes. I just wanted to see you before you left.” He said, glancing up at his father with wide, dark eyes.

“You’re just in time. I was just getting up to get ready.” Jungkook reached down and tousled the boy’s hair, before he looked at you, reluctance clear in his eyes as he said, “I guess I’d better get moving.”

Pushing yourself up on your hands, you kissed him, lingering for a moment, before you rolled off of him to release him.

He went into the bathroom, and you heard the shower start to run, as your son said, “You kiss daddy?”

“What?” You looked over at him in surprise, a slight smile going over your face at the odd question. “Yeah, babe. You’ve seen daddy and I kiss lots of times.”

“I know.” His brow creased in worry and he hugged his stuffed animal to him. “But what if you run out of kisses? And there’s no more left for me?”

You laughed, but tried to let him know you were serious, when you snuggled down next to him, wrapping him in your arms as you pecked kisses all over his face, making him laugh. “I promise that will never happen. Daddy and I will always have enough kisses for you.”

270 notes · View notes

musicblocks · 1 month ago

Text

height difference- canon x oc x canon implied inanimate insanity oc post!

Microphone isn’t the tallest out of the three of them😔😔

anygays I want to draw them a lot so if you have any drawing requests for this silly like poly ship then drop them in my ask box

#Crayon box #inanimate insanity #ii oc #inanimate insanity microphone #taco inanimate insanity #tacomic #colorfulbowties #Is the offical ship name for them according to my mom #My mom is a shipper of them now Apperantly #She watches ii with me and my brother and supports taco mic #Oc x canons #canon x oc x canon #rat rambles #my art

9 notes · View notes

waternilly · 4 years ago

Text

The End of an Era

Ship: Blackleg Sanji x f!OC Language: english Word count: 1.5k Warnings: none Ao3 link: here | Wattpad link: here Summary: Musicals! But what if this time the rivals were lovers in real life?

Many weeks and hours of hard work had come to their end. Tonight was the big finale of the musical Florence had built with both old and new friends over the semester. It hadn’t gone without troubles, but they had made it in the end.

As she waited between the wings on the side of the stage, the young woman let her mind drift off.

She thought back about the moment Mozart l’Opéra Rock had been announced as this year’s project. How all the students who would graduate in June shared the same excitement and thrill at the prospect.

She remembered the audition and how learning the lyrics to “Si Je Défaille” had been easy, being engraved in her memory ever since she was ten. She also remembered when she had to show up at the next audition to sing “Tatoue-Moi” on demand of her professor.

Florence had already performed as a male character in a previous project and she knew the professor’s demand was far from innocent. They had something in mind.

And she was right. The next week, once auditions for both singers, actors and dancers alike were over, the results were published.

1. Florence Moire ..... Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

A smile had crept on her face instantly. But what made her even happier was the name just two lines under hers.

3. Sanji Vinsmoke ..... Antonio Salieri

Not only would she perform as the main character of what was probably her favourite musical. The one to act as her rival was her own boyfriend.

Images of her sweet Sanji in black hair and eyeshadow had immediately crossed her mind and she couldn’t wait to see it happen.

That evening, the entire crew had gone to a local student pub and celebrated all night long. Florence lost count of how many times she got congratulated or all the teasing her and Sanji had gotten for acting out rivals.

It was one of Flo’s favourite memories. Everything felt right. No pressure or stress related to the production, school or the internship yet. Only pleasure, joy, excitement.

Rehearsals had started the same week, beginning with a script reading. Songs from the original musical were played whenever they were reached throughout the session. A few voice cracks and poorly acted sentences were uttered, but they were laughed off.

Florence and all the singers then went through some coaching first. Even though they were all decent already, they were still merely amateurs. Some had gotten such lessons the previous years, but everyone welcomed the tips from the teacher with open arms.

While those were reaching their end, they simultaneously started rehearsing with the actors. Their friends had already started learning their lines and now it was time for them to do as well.

To help with that process, Florence would often play the entire musical as background noise while studying or working on anything, to Sanji’s greatest amusement.

He early on realized that the one he tenderly referred to as ‘princess’ was nervous about the pressure put upon her shoulders. He often reminded her that the professor wouldn’t have given her the part if they didn’t believe her to be capable of it. He also loved to add that she would make for a great Mozart and an amazing rival, which would often help her calm down, at least temporarily.

As the dates approached and the rehearsals became longer -every song being performed in their entirety, accompanied by the dancers- the pressure among the whole crew rose. People started worrying about costumes or set pieces not being finished on time, about black outs on stage, about wigs falling off or ladies tripping over their massive dresses.

All of these faded shortly after luckily and everything was done in due time. The final rehearsal in full costume and make up also reassured everyone about what they had created. Which meant, representations could start. But not without some last minute preparations.

Bonney was left with her bright pink hair despite the professor’s reclamations who feared she would steal the show. The young woman’s determination was stronger however and she refused to incline, making her the very first pink haired Constanz Weber.

Luffy, who interpreted everyone’s favourite comic relief, Rosenberg, got his hair coloured grey with sprays often used for Halloween. It was slicked back and his face was painted bright white with two outrageously red spots on the cheeks. All of it, topped off with pencil-drawn eyebrows and two fake moles.

Sanji agreed to changing his style for the occasion. He got his hair dyed in a dark brown and slicked it all back except for one rebellious lock. Needless to say he was a sight for sore eyes like this. But every evening, before the representation, the benevolent make up artists who were fellow students painted his eyes with black eyeshadow, crayon and eyeliner. Black lipstick had also been considered at some point but was eventually discarded. And aside from all of that, he also walked around with black painted nails for a week.

As for Florence, the main thing she had to do was get a haircut. Her pixie hair had grown out during the semester and it required some touch ups. She was the one who had the wildest, most natural hairdo. It only got comped and sprayed to create some extra volume, but nothing too perfect. Her eyes got the same treatment as her lover’s however, which they liked to point out.

And then it was time.

The premiere.

Everyone was nervous to their core while simultaneously trying to help their friends calm down. Singers and actors alike reunited back stage to warm up their voices, a loud buzzing sound filling the room. Dancers took that opportunity to stretch and prepare as well. The entire crew was in its own bubble, in symbiosis with each other. Any conflicts that might have existed before were forgotten for now.

“Are you nervous, my love?” Sanji had asked his girlfriend just before she had to walk on stage.

“Yes,” she admitted.

With a smile, he had said: “You’ll feel better once you’re up there.”

She thanked him with a smile.

“Maybe turn on your microphone before it’s too late though,” he had teased.

Florence agreed, flipped the switch and ran up on stage. Sanji had been right. Merely seconds later, as she was uttering her very first line, she was calm, confident, poised. Every movement, every sentence flowed naturally. She felt good, at home.

To everyone’s surprise, nothing went wrong during the entire first act, which their professor naturally pointed out backstage during the break. They also complimented everyone’s acting, singing and dancing, clearly ecstatic with the result.

Flo knew what would come next. Someone started playing music while another person shouted to turn off the lights. Everyone jumped around and loudly shouted in unison with the music. A few even climbed on the table in the middle of the room to dance on it in a silly way, making the whole crew laugh.

That little tradition remained during the entire week of run, lasting the entire entre act every time. A twenty minute break of partying halfway through the musical.

Except it was now time to walk back on stage for the last time.

A loud ominous music played and Florence stepped into the light.

She gave everything she had in her, jumping and running around on stage.

Sanji then walked up himself, followed by Bonney who gave her best vocal performance yet.

Before long though, they reached the end of the musical and with it, the famous “Vivre à en Crever” scene. The only time Flo got to sing with her boyfriend throughout the entire performance.

She started, careful to keep a steady and clear voice. Then Sanji joined in. And ultimately, they sang together.

It was always one of the most poignant parts of the show and Florence had lost count of how many times she had almost kissed Sanji during it, never giving in however. Until now, whoever didn’t know them personally couldn’t have guessed they were a couple.

But that was about to change as it was time to salute and Florence had an idea in mind.

Once everyone had bowed in their usual position, they all started singing the most famous song of the musical -”Tatoue moi”- to celebrate the final representation. Florence took advantage of the context to ask Bonney to switch places with her since she was traditionally between her and Sanji. Florence wondered if the audience would react and how if they were to. By now, majority of the public wasn’t even from their college.

She started by just tangling their fingers but soon enough they were smiling at each other while singing eye to eye. When they reached the end of the song, Florence stood on the tip of her toes and pecked Sanji’s lips. He only grinned down at her before kissing her back.

Audible gasps, soon followed by extra cheers, could be heard throughout the audience. The public’s reaction was even better than what Flo was hoping for. She imagined the surprise it could be to see two people you pictured as rivals during the past two hours suddenly kiss. It amused her as well.

It might have been her last performance with this great crew of people but Florence had no reason to be sad. They had all gone out with a bang; Ace, Kid, Bonney, Sanji, herself. That night wouldn’t be one of mourning the end of an era. It would be a night to celebrate what they had achieved.

A/N: Bit of a cheesy ending yes, but oh well ^^” Please let me know what you thought of it, I haven’t written 3rd person fanfics in English in literally so long! Also, yeah, OC! Long time since I last wrote one. Any comments are welcome ^^ Thank you very much for reading <3

#one piece #one piece x oc #one piece scenario #one piece imagine #sanji #blackleg sanji #sanji x oc #blackleg sanji scenario #sanji scenario #nille writes #english #mor #mozart l'opera rock #mozart l'opéra rock

0 notes

milkchu · 6 years ago

Text

❝anyway the wind blows❞ ♔ fourteen.

Summary: (Y/N) Mercury’s journey of love, fame, and pain, alongside what would become one of the most legendary bands ever, Queen.

Pairing: Borhap!Queen x Reader, eventual Brian May x Reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of dying and drinking, fighting. THIS IS IT, GUYS.

⇦ previous chapter // series masterlist // next chapter ⇨

“Convinced our voices can’t be heard,” You sang out, your voice cracking a little bit, “You just wanna scream it louder and louder and louder.”

“What the hell are we fighting for?”

You hand came up to your throat, feeling a warm ache as you sang the next lyric, “Ah, just surrender and it won’t hurt at all,” before finally holding a finger up, gesturing for them to stop playing.

“Yup,” Deacy said before looking over to Brian, “Let’s call it, yeah?”

Shaking your head, “Sorry,” you let out a light chuckle, “I sound like shit.”

“You all are lovely, you sound good,” You smiled to everyone, placing your microphone back on the stand, “Been a while.”

Holding onto your throat, you tried to clear it again, “My throat feels like a vulture’s crotch.”

Each of them let out a chuckle before Roger said, “We still got a week. We’ll get there.”

“Yeah, we’re in a good place, (Y/N/N),” Brian added, “You just need a bit of rest, that’s all,” He looked towards you, your back facing them, before you softly replied, “Yeah.”

Eventually the three of them got into their own conversation, your heart beginning to beat faster than normal as you looked up to Miami, who had a knowing look on his face.

Your stomach hurt with anticipation, but you still fought it. Nodding subtly at Miami, you turned towards them, “Before you leave…”

“Could I have a second?”

“Yeah. What’s up?” Roger asked.

Before you could chicken out and turn away from them, you blurted out, “I’ve got it.”

Each of their faces held a confused look, Deacy shaking his head before asking, “Got what?”

“I’m dying.”

“I wanted you to hear it from me.”

Deacy immediately felt tears rush through his eyes, sighing and looking up at the windows to avoid breaking down in tears in front of you.

Roger just felt numb, frozen in place, staring at you in shock, secretly begging you to break out in laughter and laugh at their reactions to the joke you just made.

As much as Brian was thrashing on the inside, he contained himself, though the ache he felt in his chest couldn’t be ignored, he resorted to looking down at the floor, biting his lip before looking back up to you, “(Y/N/N), I’m so sorry.”

“Brian, stop.”

You shook your head, “Don’t.”

“For right now… it’s between us,” You smiled softly at them, “All right? Just us.”

“So, please… if any of you fuss about it or frown about it, or worst of all, if you bore me with your sympathy, that’s just seconds wasted. Seconds that could be used making music… which is all I want to do with the time I have left.”

“I don’t have time to be their victim, the face of a front-page news cover, the poor, sickly, dying girl…”

“No. I decide who I am,” You looked at the three of them, your mouth curling up into a small smile, “I’m going to be what I was born to be.”

“A performer… who gives the people what they want.”

“Touch of the heavens,” You pointed your finger up, a smile gracing its way to Brian’s lips while Deacy nodded, tears pouring down his cheeks, but with his own smile.

“(Y/N) fucking Mercury.”

“You’re a legend, (Y/N),” Roger said.

“You’re bloody right I am. We’re all legends.”

“But you’re right, I am a legend,” You added, making the three burst out in laughter, “Now you give me a chance to get my bitchy little vocal cords in order…”

“And we’ll go and punch a hole through the roof of that stadium.”

“Actually, Wembley doesn’t have a roof,” Deacy corrected, all of you letting out a chuckle before Brian added with a strained voice, a tight-lipped smile on his face, “He’s right, it doesn’t.”

“Then we’ll punch a hole in the sky,” You raised your arm up.

After putting your arm down, you walked towards the three of them, Brian bringing his arm around your shoulders before you all circled together in a hug.

“Now, even though you’re crying like three little girls… I still love you,” You grinned, Brian’s hand patting your hair.

Before you could break down in tears yourself, you pulled away, “All right, enough of this.”

“Drink?”

“Yes!”

“Or ten,” Deacy replied, sniffing.

Church bells rang loudly as both white doves and rice flew everywhere, showering the newly-wed couple in all of the guests’ best wishes for them.

Leaning against the bark of the tree that was several feet away from the church’s main entrance, you smiled softly as you watched the happy couple, your face hiding under the large, black hat that rested on your head.

Hearing the sound of grass crunching nearby, you looked to your side before chuckling softly, “You know, your hair gives it away all the time.”

Brian let out a chuckle as he stood next to you before you continued, “Still not thinking of cutting it?”

He shook his head, “Never.”

“I can already see seventy-something year old Brian Harold May, still rocking the curly hair,” You joked, Brian letting out a laugh before you mumbled, “It is one of your best features anyway.”

Warmth rushed to your cheeks immediately, realizing what you just said, before Brian cleared his throat, changing the subject for you, “They look so happy,” He watched the two lovers at the front, before looking over to you, many things running through his mind at that short moment.

“They do,” You watched as the couple took pictures, before you let out a light chuckle, “I always thought that I would be here for this.”

“Just not in this way,” You shook your head, feeling tears at the corners of your eyes.

“Oh, (Y/N),” Brian sighed, before bringing his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him.

You let out a sniff, before rubbing your eyes, “All right, let’s not waste life on sadness, now,” You chuckled, Brian joining along, but keeping his arm around you.

“How about a drink at my place, huh? Rog and Deacy are probably too busy having their own drinks with their wives,” He chuckled.

You looked up at him with a smile, “I would love that.”

As you passed by the main entrance, you couldn’t help but look over to the couple. On him.

Matthew smiled at the guests, thanking them for coming, while his lovely bride, Daisy held onto his arm, giggling at whatever her friend told her.

He looked around, trying to find you, before his eyes finally locked with yours, his lips curling up into a smile as he saw you walking away with Brian.

You sent him a sweet smile, your eyes filling up with tears again, with joy this time.

In that moment, you thanked him. For everything. Taking care of you, putting up with all your shit, all those times you made love with one another, all the sweet, unforgettable memories you’ve made together, all the pain you’ve went through together, and for making you feel loved. Truly loved.

Thank you, Matthew Adams.

As if he read your mind, Matthew nodded his head your way, with the most genuine and heartfelt smile on his face, Thank you, (Y/N) Mercury.

Before finally walking away from him.

While you and Brian walked towards to his car, your eyes were locked on him, the rays of setting sun in the sky shining through his curls.

“What?” Brian chuckled, noticing you staring.

You giggled as you shook your head, “Nothing.”

“Is anyone home?” You asked Brian as you stepped through his front door, entering his large home.

“Dianne,” Brian replied, “Goes back to Chrissie’s in a couple days.”

“Auntie (Y/N)!” A tiny voice cheered, before you felt little arms wrap around your legs.

You let out a giggle, “Hello there, little darling,” You kneeled down to her level, wrapping your arms around her tiny figure, “How’s my favorite troublemaker?”

“Better now that you’re here!”

“Oh yeah, ignore your dad, why don’t you?” Brian huffed.

The four-year old let out a cute giggle, before switching to her dad’s legs, wrapping her arms around them, “Daddy!”

Brian kneeled down to pick his daughter up, before placing a soft kiss on her forehead, “Hello there, munchkin.”

Putting her back down on the floor, Brian added, “Why don’t you go get your fine works of art and show Auntie (Y/N)?”

“Okay, daddy!” Dianne cheered, before her little feet start running up the stairs to her bedroom.

Later on, you were both sat down on the living room floor, Dianne showing you all her drawings, whilst Brian sat down on the couch behind you, watching you both.

“See the angry lion? That’s Uncle Roger,” Her tiny finger pointed at the hand drawn lion that was burning with anger as shown by the excessive use of a red crayon, “And the other lion, the nice one? That’s Uncle Deacy.”

You giggled at the drawings that were somewhat accurate to real life, “You’re going to be a wonderful artist one day, Didi.”

“You really think so, Auntie (Y/N)?” She looked up at you with glimmer in her innocent eyes, Eyes that were undoubtedly her father’s.

You placed a soft kiss on her forehead, “I know so.”

Brian smiled softly as he watched you interact with his daughter, he never thought he’d say this but, you would definitely make an amazing mother.

“Yay!” She cheered, “I have one last drawing! A new one!”

“Let’s see it, then,” You clapped.

Dianne then brought out a picture of three people holding hands, the figure with a lot of brown swirly lines along its head was obviously her father, the little figure in the middle being her, and the other figure of a woman, “Is that your mommy?”

“Mm-mm,” She shook her head, “That’s you, Auntie (Y/N)!”

Looking at the drawing more intently, you felt your heart become warm. Especially at the thought of having a family like that. With someone.

But before you could compliment her on her newest masterpiece, Brian interjected, “All right, now. It’s way past your bedtime, young lady.”

Dianne pouted, “But, daddy!”

You let out a soft giggle, stroking her hair softly, “Don’t worry, next time, we’ll draw together, but now, you have to go to sleep so you can have enough energy!”

Her pout grew into a excited grin, “Okay, Auntie (Y/N)!” before marching up to her bedroom.

As soon as Dianne left the room, Brian asked, “She only listens to you, you know?”

“Maybe I should be her mother then?” You joked, before plopping down on the couch, beside Brian.

You both laughed before Brian stood up to walk to get some drinks, and as soon as he got back and handed you your drink, you felt the air become thick.

“It’s been hard,” Brian took a gulp of his drink, “Not getting to see Dianne all the time.”

“Chrissie has her on most of the days. Me being so busy with the band and all. I bet it’s hard for Didi too, always moving, not having both her parents all the time.”

You sighed, “It is hard. But she’ll get used to it.”

“Yeah. She seems to like you a lot, though,” Brian chuckled.

“Like me? Darling, please, she loves me,” You replied, “I am her favorite person in the world after all.”

A chorus of laughter bursted from the two of you, and from there you just talked about random things, like talking shit about that one asshole that you left distressed at Munich.

“So, what are you going to do now?” Brian asked, his shirt almost completely unbuttoned whilst your jacket was thrown off to the side.

“I don’t know,” You shrugged, “Live life to the fullest? Is that what people say?,” You let out a light chuckle, before taking a sip of your drink, “As long it’s with you, Rog, and Deacy, of course.”

Brian smiled softly, “Of course, I’ll always be by your side, (Y/N).”

Looking over to him, you reached for his hand, gently stroking the back with your thumb, “Thank you, Brian.”

You continued to look at him. For the first time in fifteen years, you got a proper look at him. Brian Harold May. One of your best mates ever since you formed the band. And now someone you would want to spend the remaining years of your--

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You ripped your hand away from his.

“What do you mean, (Y/N)?” Brian asked, a look of concern on his face because of your sudden change of mood.

You slammed your glass down the coffee table and stood up, “Did you even notice?” You pointed your finger at him in anger.

Brian stood up, shaking his head, “Notice what, (Y/N)? Fuck’s sake, I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Paul. Everything. Everything that’s been ruining me! Ruining my life!” You shouted, tears burning the edges of your eyes before you broke down and let everything pour out of you.

It was the first time Brian saw you cry like that. The first time you broke your walls down in front of him. Your real emotions.

Kneeling down in front of you, he tried to pat your shoulder but then you shoved it away. You had a little too much to drink but he knew that everything you said was real. And it hit him hard.

So, Brian finally did what he should have, he wrapped his arms around your figure, pulling you to his chest, resting his chin atop your head.

You thrashed around, and just punched him everywhere in his grip but he stood still, and let you pour everything out on him.

Your fists kept hitting him in his chest, “Why didn’t you do anything, Brian?” You sobbed, “I needed you. I fucking needed you every fucking time.”

“But, you never needed me,” Your red eyes looked up at him.

“That’s not true, (Y/N),” Brian said, looking at you with his own tears in his eyes, “I always needed you.”

“But why the fuck didn’t you do anything?”

“Because,” He gulped, “I was so fucking stupid and blinded by everything. I was selfish, I thought that thinking you were fine would feel better and hurt less than actually seeing what’s behind everything. I was a stupid fucking idiot, (Y/N).”

He looked down at you, “I knew I had a choice. And I regret not taking that chance,” His thumb stroked your tear-stained cheek, “Now, I’d rather die than seeing you get hurt again.”

“Brian…”

“And I still am selfish, (Y/N),” Brian continued, “Because after all the pain I’ve caused you…”

“I still want you all to myself.”

And that’s when he broke down in tears, his face burying itself into your neck.

“I fucking need you in my life, (Y/N) Mercury,” He sobbed into your neck.

Feeling his tears run down your neck, you stroked his curly hair a few times before pulling him back, “How dare you?”

Brian looked up at you, “I know, I’m so fucking sorry, (Y/N)--”

“How dare you make me wait this long for you to say that?”

“What?”

“For fuck’s sake, Brian, It’s 1985! We met in 1970, so it took you fifteen years to actually say those words to my face?”

“I don’t understand-”

“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me, you wanker.”

And he did.

Like he should have when he first saw you at the pub.

a/n: omg omg omg idfk what to feel about this chapter omgshdmfogod whatthefucktheufuck

tags: @b-hardys // @spideyyypeter // @hunterswearingplaid // @livingforrt // @bensrhapsody // @jennyggggrrr // @little-weirdo-13 // @kemeryyyy // @yoonlatte // @geek-and-proud // @everything-you-dont-wanna-be // @itsametaphorbriansblog // @marequeenii // @killer-queen-xo // @jedi-dreea // @achernarsaa // @nevaeh-potter15 // @banana-tree-freddiemercury // @rogertaylorssunglasses // @pyrotechnic789 // @mirkwoodshewolf // @stuff-exists // @toger-raylor // @langdonzvoid // @imamazzellhoe // @tbird20165 // @theswedishblonde // @oliviaharddyy // @sunflower-borhap-boys // @rocknrollsavedmysoul13 // @sincereleygmg // @mylifeissucky123 // @teenwolflover28 // @perrythefrickinplatypus // @deakysmisfire // @simonedk // @rockyroadthepastryarchy // @warren-lauren // @sarai-ibn-la-ahad // @danny-fucking-mercury // @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen // @gracelynn318 // @sargent-barnes // @anonymouse-not-so-anonymous

[i couldn’t tag some of you for some reason :/]

#atwb #hardyzello #queen #queen band #borhap #bohemian rhapsod #brian may #brian may x reader #brian may imagine #gwilym lee #gwilym lee imagine #gwilym lee x reader #roger taylor #ben hardy #john deacon #joe mazzello

123 notes · View notes

thefemalethatwrites · 7 years ago

Text

Love Again (Jason Todd x Reader)

Request; Nope.

Prompt; You’re an Outlaw with Jason, Roy and Kori and you go out for celebratory drinks.

Relationship; Jason Todd x Reader

Warning; Cursing?

Word Count: 1220

A/N: Please request by sending me it into my inbox or asking anonymously either way I don’t mind (I’m running out of ideas!). Anyway enjoy!

~~~

(Y/N)’s POV

“I don’t see why you’re so scared of telling him” Kori said as we sat down in a booth as Jason and Roy got drinks,

“Because telling him could f*ck up our entire friendship if he doesn’t feel the same way” I explain,

“You’re scared, for someone who can take down an army, you’re scared” She chuckled, I narrowed my eyes at her

“Shush” I say sticking my tongue out at her,

“A wine for Kori, and ‘strong stuff’ for (Y/N)” Roy said as he set our drinks in front of us as they sat down, I raised an eyebrow at my drink, “Pure Jägermeister, or can’t you handle that?” Roy teased as he went to remove it from me, I smack his hand away and down it, not breaking eye-contact with him, I placed the empty glass down making his jaw drop, “How are you not throwing your guts up?” He asked, I smirked

“Like I said, I’m a ‘strong stuff’ drinker. I used to drink this sh*t in college for a wake-me-up” I explained,

“You went to college?” Roy scoffed,

“Don’t make me hurt you Harper” I threaten, he smiled taking a mouthful of his pint, “I’m going to get another round” I say noticing that Jason and Kori were close to finishing their drinks, I approached the bar,

“What can I get you beautiful?” A drunken male asked as he stood next to me,

“Two pints, a large white wine and a bottle of bourbon” I smiled, he nodded and ordered it, I smirked as he paid for them then I felt a presence behind me,

“You alright?” Jason whispered as he placed a hand on my waist,

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve just got us a round thanks to this guy” I reply facing him,

“There you go sweetheart” The guy smiled as he turned to me only for his smile to drop as he noticed Jason,

“Thanks bud” I smiled as I took mine, Kori and Roy’s drinks over to the table as Jason stayed behind to talk to him, I sat back down only to notice Roy smirking, “What?” I asked,

“Nothing” He chuckled as Jason sat back down,

“Neither of you go to the bar alone” Jason demanded mentioning Kori and myself,

“We can get free rounds from random guys” I state,

“You also give them guys the idea that they have a chance with you” He growled, I rolled my eyes as I took a mouthful of bourbon and it fell silent on the table.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, the karaoke is open!” The manager announced,

“I’m going for a smoke” Jason mumbled as he got up, Roy shortly followed him, I sighed

“I need a refill” Kori said as she got up and headed to the bar, I kept a close eye on her as two men approached her, I took a swig of the bourbon before getting up and heading over to them,

“Get your hands off my girl” I growled as I pulled their hand off Kori’s ass,

“Come on darling, there’s enough of us to have” He chuckled, I raised an eyebrow and punching him square in the face sending him backwards, his friend grabbed a hold of me so I stomped on his foot, elbowed him in the gut then flipped him over my shoulder into the other male,

“You’ll leave her alone” I growled as I glared at them, they quickly disappeared from my view, “You okay?” I asked turning to Kori, she nodded sipping on her wine making me chuckle and shake my head as we made our way back to the table, moments later Jason and Roy returned.

“What have you done?” Jason questioned as he took my hand in his, I pulled it from his grip and noticed the slight bruising, I rolled my eyes

“I showed some low-lives what happens when they touch Kori” I explained, he went to say something but was cut off by the microphone screeching,

“I don’t think anyone would be able to top that performance” The previous singer said as she walked off the stage, I smirked as I finished the bottle and headed towards the stage.

Time's been ticking, hearts are runnin' Think that Cupid's up to somethin' You asked me how I feel, I say nothin' But lately colour seems so bright And the stars light up the night My feet they feel so light I'm ignoring all the signs I keep on frontin', Yeah, I stay bluffin' I keep you wonderin' Keep you huntin' for my lovin' But I crave us huggin' Yeah, I stay stubborn Cause I can't admit that you got all the strings And know just how to tug 'em I think I'm in love again (in my head, yeah, you're in my head) I think I'm in love again (in my head, yeah, you're in my head) I didn't think it could be true Let alone that it would be you I think I'm in love again (I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love) My heart's pacin', I'm confused, I'm dazin' I saw something I never seen in you, It's got me shakin' I must be hallucinatin' I hear it happens, I'm just sayin' Babe, I'm just sayin' Someone give me some paper Someone give me some crayons I'm feeling like a child, I need something to play on I'm trying hard to trust you When you say, "Give me your hand." Baby, I'm fallin', I hope you catch me when I land I think I'm in love again (in my head, yeah, you're in my head) I think I'm in love again (in my head, yeah, you're in my head) I didn't think it could be true Let alone that it would be you I think I'm in love again (I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love) In my dreams you're the dutch and I'm the duchess And your blunts are always loose, so I'm in charge of rollin' dutches And we getting so high, we always get the munchies And we go for early brunches that turn into late lunches And we ain't gotta label, we're just rollin' with the punches I make fun of your belly and tell you to do some crunches And you say, "Yeah, well, your ass jiggles, go and do some lunges" I say, "F*ck you," while I'm thinking of you as my husband I think I'm in love I think I'm in love again (in my head, yeah, you're in my head) Baby, I think I'm in love again I think I'm in love again (in my head, yeah, you're in my head) I didn't think it could be true Let alone that it would be you I think I'm in love again (I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love) I think I'm in love again

I finished the song to be met with the crowd cheering

“Looks like I topped your performance” I smirk as I looked over at the previous singer, her face turned sour making my smirk widened before I was turned around and met by Jason, more importantly his lips on mine, I smiled as I pulled him closer deepening the kiss,

“F*ck yeah!” Roy yelled as we broke a part.

#Jason Todd #jason todd x reader #red hood and the outlaws #dc #DC comics #batman #red arrow #arsenal #roy harper #koriand'r

183 notes · View notes