#somebody with talent pls consider

[cuntpuntcowboy]

Need Hannigram squid game au fics where Hannibal is the frontman and Will is 456 EXPEDITIOUSLY!!?!!

[wheresmymilliondollarman]

reader x xander Hawthorne please 🥺

xander hawthorne x fem!reader

hcs about meeting & dating xander hawthorne

a/n: HI IM BACK! & tysm for the request!! xander is so underrated 👎 thats my bae fr🫶 currently working on other stuff but wanted to do this request bc i immediately had ideas for this!! i still don't completely get how school worked in the books, so if there's any wrong info please bare w me. if this wasn't what you had in mind feel free to send a specific request! again, this is kinda fic like but still calling it hcs.

word count: 7.3k

warnings: long backstory again, mentions of death, sexual themes. (pls lmk if you see anything else that should be labeled as a warning)

you’ve always lived on the middle side class of things. you were, thankfully, never poor, but also never rich enough where you could afford the more luxurious things in life.

your mother owned a small bakery 3 blocks away from your home, while your father worked for an electrician company. both jobs were stable enough to provide for necessities and both your parents enjoyed their occupations.

your parents always told you to never worry about money, but it still made you reluctant to ask them for things you wanted in fear they couldn't afford it. which is why you always tried to fix your problems yourself.

if you ever needed money, you would work for your mother at her bakery in exchange. while it was still your mom giving you the money, it made you feel better that you earned the cash. 

you later found yourself working at the bakery even without needing money. you liked working with your mom, and it was fun to learn how to make different types of sweets. 

at school, you were always a studious person. you worked hard to get a's and never anything below. you wanted to make your parents proud and feel as if their hard work toward the family wasn't for nothing. 

you knew it would be practically impossible for your family to afford your college career without going into debt. so you always looked at scholarships and what they looked for in students, so you tried to make yourself appear well-rounded. 

you joined student council, mathletes (although math wasn't your forte),library club, chess club,art club, film club, yearbook, culinary club, asl club, and a few others over the years. to say your schedule after school was always booked was a major understatement.

although your favorite was always the art club. you never even knew you had an artistic side until you joined. you explored it more with your membership and soon became quite good. 

during your freshman year you took your first art class. you were excited to learn under a professional for the first time. 

after a few lessons, your first major assignment was realism project; draw somebody in your everyday life. 

you were both excited and a bit nervous. you had drawn people before, but never someone you knew, and you wanted to make a great first impression on your teacher. 

you ended up choosing your mother as your muse; your father could never stay still enough to be drawn. it took a lot of long nights when your mother wasn't working to finish your drawing. you could've just taken a photo of her and drawn that, but you pushed for the extra mile of drawing her from real life.

you were satisfied when you finished, and your parents were in awe by your work - telling you over and over how talented you were and your teacher would surely be impressed. still, you were anxious about turning it in the next day in class. 

your assignment was a big hit with your teacher, you got a perfect A+. she commented on your beautiful handiwork, noting that your drew from real life. she also advised how you should consider switching to an advanced class since it was obvious you were already beyond a beginner course. 

you wanted to decline at first, being intimidated by the thought of being in a class with others who were just as good or better than you - but your gut instinct told you it was the right choice to make. 

it proved to be right because by the spring you were already one of the best in your art class. you expanded into all types of art: abstract, realism, expressionism, digital, etc. your favorite and most notable works tended to be the realistic ones of people, place, and objects. art had become a part of your life in the best way. 

you entered a numerous amount of competitions and always come back on top; it got to the paint your shelfs had all been filled to the brim. you parents of course were elated with your success and were never prouder. 

you soon were able to make some money with your art skills as well. you got commissioned for mainly portraits of family and friends, mostly to give as gifts or to have in their household. it made you feel proud someone out there had a piece of your art and that people loved your work enough to want you to paint their family. 

the biggest commission you've ever taken was a 40x30 portrait of an older man. the request was anonymous, so you weren't sure who the man was or if the request was for himself or another person. 

the project took a few weeks due to your work load and having to paint such fine details on a huge canvas. you were happy with the outcome and were astonished to find out the anonymous buyer had given you 10k for your work. it was way over your normal pay grade.

your success didn't end there. in the summer before your sophomore year, you received a fancy envelope in the mail. it was addressed to you and sent from heights country day school. 

at first, you were confused as to why they would send you anything. everyone in texas knew of heights country day, it was one of the best private schools in the state. almost all parents want their kids to be a student there, but the tuition was awfully expensive, so if you weren't rich you were most likely not getting in. 

you didn't wait to tell your parents before your ripped open the envelop in anticipation. you unfolded the letter inside and skimmed over the introductions.

you were shocked to find out you were being awarded a full paid scholarship to attend heights country day school for the rest of highschool. 

your first thought was to assume it was a prank, or a scammer trying to get your info. but you examined the letter further; the seal of the school and the dean signature did look quite authentic. then you noticed the number listed on the bottom of the page. 

you figured you should just call and check for confirmation. you told yourself the worst case scenario would be they laugh at your face and tell you the letter isn't real. 

you definitely did not want to inform your parents until you made the call, that way if it wasn't real, their hopes wouldn't be crushed and they would never even know about it. 

it took an hour of pacing in your room to finally work up the courage to make the call. you kept tour expectations low to avoid disappointment. 

the secretary of the school was quick to pick up after two rings, and you briefly explained the letter you received. you held your breath for a second until she told you to "please hold for a moment." 

when she returned she informed you you were being transferred to the dean's phone. your nerves were through the roof at this point. you wanted to believe it was a good sign the dean wanted to talk to you, but maybe he wanted to tell you himself the letter was unfortunately a phony and they do not give scholarships to art students.

the dean finally picked up the call and you both exchanged greetings. from there he explained how the letter was, in fact, very real.

the school had seen a work of yours and dug deeper into your portfolio and academic career. they were very impressed with your achievement, especially given your age. the board was all unanimous in agreeing to offer you the scholarship because of your artistic talents and would love for you to become a part of their school. 

the rest of the call was a blur to you. when the call ended you stood stunned in your room for a minute. you had to pinch yourself to remind yourself this was real and happening. 

once you snapped out of it, you were jumping up and down in joy. you truly were elated to possibly be a student at one of the top private schools in texas or even the country. 

you wasted no more time informing your parents when they arrived home. they also thought you were just pulling their leg, but after you told them you had confirmation - you swear their jaws hit the floor. 

your parents were just as excited for you. your mother took the liberty of baking all your favorites in celebration, even lemon scones, which were your favorite.

before you knew it, summer was over, and it was time to get back into school. you spent the rest of your break prepping to attend heights - gathering books, supplies, and a uniform (which was mostly paid by the school). 

this was your first time wearing a uniform, and you were a bit delighted to wear it. it was a burgundy blazer with a navy crest embossed, with the school motto in latin, a white dress shirt, and a pleated plaid skirt. 

it screamed, "i go to a really expensive private school."

it was nerve-wracking that you were now going to school with some of the richest and elite children in america. you'd hope it wouldn't be obvious where your social class stood, or if it was, they wouldn't think of you any less for it.

you did your best to stray from stereotypical assumptions, but then again you've never interacted with people of a such higher social class - you really had no idea what to expect. 

nonetheless, you wanted to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, so you held your head up high when the first day came around. 

the school in no way looked like a regular public school, it shared way more similar qualities with college campuses. it was beautifully constructed, and you had a feeling the inside was even more stunning.

your parents dropped you off in front of the twin archways of the school, wishing you a good first day, and they were only a call away if you needed anything. you responded with your goodbyes and now stood on the pavement of heights day.

a part of you was glad your parents left so soon; you loved them to death, but their older modeled car stood out amongst the other deluxe cars parked and driving into school grounds. the last thing you wanted on your first day was to stick out like a sore thumb.

you took a deep breath before you took your strides through the front door.

you were happy to see no one gave you obvious looks and stares when you walked through, like those of a movie. everyone seemed preoccupied with their own things. you were silently thankful for that.

you made your way to the office on your own; luckily it was very near the front entrance with a big sign that said 'office of registrar'. making it very easy for you to find it without having to awkwardly ask another peer.

you walked to a desk of who you assumed was a secretary and gave her your name and stated your business. she instantly recognized your name and made a swift move to hand you your schedule.

the secretary informed you about the school's modular scheduling, which means they operate on a six-day cycle, and classes meet anywhere from three to five times a cycle. you were free to fit in lunch where you saw fit. you honestly didn't quite grasp it, but you figured you'd just learn along the way.

she also let you know another student had been assigned to show you around school. that's how you ended up meeting rebecca laughlin.

rebecca was a shy and a bit nervous girl, but seemed sweet nonetheless. you briefly got to know her as she showed you the different rooms; the archive room, the reflector (basically the cafeteria you realized), gym, the art center etc.

she was in the same grade as you, and had a twin sister named emily also in the school. from the small mention of her sister you sensed it was likely a sore subject. you took over from there talking a bit about yourself and your interests.

rebecca mentioned she was also new this year, having moved to texas just recently with her family but frequently visiting before that. she was able to go on a private tour with her sister over the summer, which is why she knew the place quite well already.

you two chatted a bit more until the tour ended. the last stop was the art center, and you were more than thrilled to go inside and check it out. rebecca was about to enter along with you before she saw her twin sister and people who you assume were her friends , a boy and a girl.

you turned around to glance at them and saw they were waving her over. you could tell rebecca was hesitant to just leave you for them, but you reassured her she provided an excellent tour. she reluctantly went off toward her friends, not before giving you her number and letting you know if you had any questions you could reach her.

you took a peak back at where rebecca and her friends were walking away. they all look straight out of a teen vogue catalog. emily was identical to rebecca, same red hair, eyes, and face. you could tell emily was more confident than rebecca however. there was another girl, dark eyes and even darker brown wavy hair - she was so beautiful it felt unreal. and lastly with them was a boy, he was quite tall, dark-skinned with light honey brown eyes, and a head full of curly hair. he was handsome and easily fit in with the rest of the model-looking girls.

you must've looked a second too long because he turned his head in your direction and you both made eye contact.

you quickly snapped your head away,not waiting for his reaction, and made your way to the arts center. you cursed yourself for being caught looking a bit, and now you were slightly embarrassed.

when you reached the arts center, you were amazed. it was a big building with different rooms, it was decorated as if was a museum, marble floors and pillars, archways, etc. and everything about it was engaging.

you took the time to explore the whole place; you found several different art rooms you assumed were open to students, different supply closest, classrooms for teaching, and even a few soundproof rooms. at some point you ran into a few teachers and got to know them and what they taught. you had a few of them in your schedule, so it was great to know where their classes were.

before you knew it, it was time for your first class and then eventually to your last of the day. for lunch you had opted to eat what you brought from home in the archive because you didn't feel like going through the anxiety of finding somewhere alone to sit in the refectory.

it ended up being ironic because you made a friend in there who was also eating lunch. you were sitting alone at small table when a blonde haired girl with her lunch approached you.

her name was mia, and you both instantly clicked. mia had noticed you eating at the table alone and thought she'd introduce herself since she hadn't since you on campus before. she was also a sophomore, seventeen, and she was part of height country day dance team.

she has almost always eaten in the archive since her freshman year; she enjoyed the quiet and privacy since few students ever ate or hung out there too long - you both had that in common.

after that great first meeting, the two of you became best friends. you would occasionally have a class or two with her depending on the schedule, but you both always made time to see each other throughout the day and eat lunch in the archive room.

she later on introduced you to a few of her other friends, that were now your friends as well. they were all pretty wealthy, but it didn't change the fact they were all genuine and friendly people. the fear of making friends at your new school was gone by the end of your first week.

that's set up the rest of your fantastic first year at heights country day school.

you fit in immediately with the art center and other art peers. you all carried the same passions, and it was very fun to learn from others. of course, you all intimidated to be around people so advanced and mostly rich, but it only pushed you to work even harder.

your teachers were all so great. they were also tough critiques, being professionals and all, but you took any critique you got with stride- making you a better artist.

your non-art-related classes were more difficult and work-loaded than you were use to, but you were quick to catch up with the rest of the class.

a few kids at school were stuck up and pretentious, but mostly the students weren't too far off from normal teenagers. and like high school there were cliques and popular people. you never bothered yourself with any of that, yet you always heard three reoccurring last names - hawthorne, laughlin, and calligaris.

you knew laughlin meant rebecca and emily, and it didn't take you long to figure out the other last names must belong to the other two people she was with during your first day. it made sense to you they were well-known, just their looks alone made you feel like they're superior to you.

you could've asked mia or literally paid attention to gossip around you if you wanted to know the first names of the boy & girl with the laughlins, but it honestly slipped your mind. frankly, you were too occupied with navigating your new school life to really care too much about it.

the most shocking event to happen that year was the dead of emily laughlin.

you weren't close friends with rebecca - you two did have a few chats and texts here and there; she once or twice joined mia and you in the archive. but you still felt horrible her sister died and felt the need to reach out.

you gave her your condolences when you saw her back at school, and let her know you were there for anything. she thanked you, but you could tell she needed space to grieve.

you still felt the need to do something, so you came up with the idea to make her a portrait and gifted it to her wrapped. you didn't see her reaction to it (she opened it when she got home), but she let you know she deeply appreciated it.

after that the rest of your year was quick to come and go. and before you knew it, it was summer again.

your summer stayed uneventful, but fun. you worked almost full-time with your mom in her bakery and spent time with your friends.

one afternoon, you were working the counter and you saw a familiar face walk in - a certain handsome, honey-eyed, curly-haired guy.

you greeted him as you normally did customers and asked for his order. he replied, asking for blueberry scones.

you nodded and went to get the scones from your display. that's when he spoke up again, commenting on how he'd seen you from school.

you were taken aback he’d remembered you but you nodded agreeing and replied you were new sophomore year.

"what happens to be your name, baker girl?"

"y/n. and what happens to be yours, new customer?"

he gave a dramatic offended look, hand over his heart - "you mean your telling me you don't know the name of the most dashing man at heights country day school?"

you shrugged, "i suppose not."

"when then i ought to fix that, the name is xander, milady," bowing down to give a kiss on the dorsal side of your hand.

oh he was charming alright. 

to hide your blushing face you busied yourself with packing his scones into a paper bag and rang him up to the register. 

"very serious question...how do you feel about blueberry scones?"

"they're good, but i think the lemon ones are better." 

you've never seen someone look so taken aback as xander did in that moment. he looked as if he'd just got the news his favorite boy band broke up. 

"are you alright-"

"what do you mean you prefer the lemon ones!"

xander then went into a tagent on blueberry scones stomp the lemon ones any day, and only psychos favored the lemons. you countered his claims, defending your favorite treat. you both were going back and forth until a bell rang throughout the bakery, signaling a customer has entered. 

"i suppose that's my sign to take my leave, but trust this debate is not over."

you rolled your eyes playfully, but you fought back a smile at the implication you two would speak again. 

he handed his black card to pay, and you tried not to look astonished at his casual display of the card. as you were swiping his card, he pulled a scone out of his brown bag and laid it on the counter in front of you. 

"here, it's my treat. this is the start of my fool-proof plan to convince you blueberry scones are far more superior." 

you tried to decline or offer him a refund for that scone, but ever the gentleman, he wouldn't allow it. he was out the door before you could protest anymore. leaving with a, "until we meet again," and a wink. 

you hated yourself for liking his annoying handsome beautiful smirk. 

as he requested, you did eat the scone. you admit blueberry is delicious, but nothing compared to the citrus of your lemon ones. plus, you found a new motivation to keep favoring them. 

that was the first of xander's many visits to the bakery that summer. always the same order, and always leaving one for you to eat. he really was on a mission to change your mind. 

sometimes out of spite you'd slip in a lemon scone into his bag to rile him up when he opened it. it always resulted in xander coming back the next day throwing a dramatic hissy fit. you kinda found it cute. 

you two continued your light banter about scones, but ventured into different topics such as school, hobbies, and exploding robots (his favorite topic). even as you worked behind the counter aiding customers, he was there talking your ear off. not that you minded at all, it was nice to have someone other than your mom to talk to. 

you found out xander was very smart; he builds replicas of star wars droids and was a three-time world champion at building machines. you'd never known someone with such intellect. whenever you brought it up, however, he'd brush it off saying it's a family thing and his brothers are much wiser. 

you briefly got a synopsis of his family, and it was quite intriguing. he had four half-brother; nash, grayson, and jameson - all sharing the same mother, but none of the boys' fathers seemed to be in the picture. all of them were basically raised by their grandfather, tobias hawthorne, who was obsessed with riddles and games. he sounded like an interesting man to say the least. 

you opened up to him a bit about your family and getting a scholarship into the school. which now looked not as impressive talking to a genius yet, xander was amazed at this, asking to see some of your work. 

you were suddenly self-conscious about your art. you thought a rich guy like himself probably had seen hundreds of artworks better than yours and done by people younger than your age. 

so, you lied and said you didn't have any pictures, and that you'll show him another time. you're gonna stall that as much as possible.

you guys later exchanged numbers, now being able to communicate outside your bakery hours during the week.

xander favorite thing was to spam you with pictures of himself eating blueberry scones, and you swore you were gonna block him everytime.

summer went by in a flash, and the school went back into session; you were entering your junior year. 

xander and you continued to hang out all the time, even more than you did with your own friends. he was always the one to find you around school, no matter the schedule you had that day.

he loved to sneak up on you and jump scare you, making your heart leap out your chest everytime. you would hit his arm in retaliation everytime and swore you were gonna unfriend him if he didn’t stop. you never actually did though.

xander made sure to pull you out your comfort zone. he sometimes dragged you (sometimes physically) to the refectory to go and eat with him. occasionally, his friends would join as well. rebecca was easy to talk to since you already knew her, and thea was…. complicated, but she had her good parts once she warmed up to you. 

you then demanded xander eat lunch with you and mia to compensate for eating at the refectory every now and then.

he obliged, but you told him it was better if he didn’t after he got kicked out the archive for talking loudly. he swore the archive keeper had it out for him.

he continued the ritual of giving you a blueberry muffin made by the chefs of his home. sometimes you'd bring your own lemon scone and give it to him, negotiating that you'll eat your scone if he eats his.

he'd always agree, but eat it begrudgingly. you swore he was warming up to the scone.

you two took your hangouts to after school. if you worked, it'd be at the bakery and if not, you'd go to the park and just walk.

you invited him over to your house one day after school, xander excitedly accepted. you were a bit nervous he'd think poorly of your home since you were sure he lived in a glorious mansion.

you introduced him to both of your parents, and they greeted him kindly, but your mom embarrassingly asked if he was your boyfriend.

you were quick to make a joke to cover your pink cheeks, "mom, we'd never work out we have complete different tastes in scones."

xander cut in, "well, you know what they say, opposites do attract."

was he flirting with you, or were you reading into it? and why did you like it.

xander ended up really enjoying your house; he even once said he found it more peaceful than his own. so, you guys now frequently hung out at your house after school to talk, banter, study, and or even help each other with projects.

even though you tried to avoid it, xander ending up seeing your art.

it was unintentional; you were seated at a table in an art space working on a sketch, of whatever came to mind, with your earphones in. you didn't hear xander walk in and call your name.

you noticed his presence when he swiped your drawing book. you quickly took out your earphones and tried to reach for it back, but he'd already seen your drawing. and to make matters worse it was a sketch of him.

you were mortified, but he just looked at it in admiration.

he asked if you made it, and you shyly said you had.

"can't believe you were trying to hide your talent from me. now, as an apology ur going to let me keep this."

you immediately said no, and went to take it out of his hand. but xander was quicker and took the page from the journal and held it above his head, out of reach.

after a lot of jumping to reach it, which was required because he's very tall, you gave up and let him have it. xander was pleased with that, and has carried it everywhere in his wallet since then.

he now always pestered you about your art, wanting to see it or wanting you to make a piece for him. you had to admit, you found it flattering.

to make it fair, you wanted to see him in action working on something. he was delighted to show you his robots, and some of his process making them.

you were amazed at his talent, but he could be careless at times.

for instance, you two were in the lab room and you were watching him working on a new formula to fuel his robots. he turned on bunsen burner and before you knew it, it exploded.

he ended up with a missing eyebrow, and you were laughing hysterically. you still have pictures of him without it much to xander's dismay.

you knew you'd grown a crush on the charismatic guy, but you were too scared to admit it.

you weren't sure if he felt the same way, and a part of you felt silly for even thinking he would.

you confided in mia about it, and she was convinced xander was head over heels for you. but you still weren't quite sure, and you didn't want to damage a really good friendship.

in middle of october, xander's grandfather, tobias hawthorne passed away.

he wasn't at school that day, but you assumed he was out sick or doing something important. it wasn't until you heard the news from peers talking about it did you put it together.

you immediately sent him a text sending your condolences and asked if he needed anything.

you didn't hear from him for the rest of the week, which worried you - but you knew, like rebecca, people tend to want their space when loved ones pass.

it was a friday night, you were studying for an upcoming test in your world history class on monday, when you hear a sound from your window.

you ignored it at first thinking it was a wondering animal or just trees against each other. but then you heard it repeatedly, and you realized it was sounding more like a tap against the glass.

you carefully slid your curtains from the window and took a peak outside. you then came face to face with the boy you hadn't seen all week.

it took you a moment to register it was him, you yelped at the first sight of someone outside. but then he started motioning for you to open the window and then you noticed it was xander hawthorne.

you unlatched the lock on your window and slide it open enough he could fit through. but it didn't stop him from tripping on your window still and falling onto the ground with a 'thud'.

"shh! my parents might've heard that!"

"wow, instead of helping a poor fallen man up, you scold him. what ever happened to warm hospitality?"

you ignored him and held your hand out to help him up. once he was stood up, you waited for him to explain why he was here.

he went on to say he didn't have a specific reason, he just needed to get out of his mansion home. "the first place i thought of to go was here, with you."

you swore your heart leaped when he said that. you were praying to whoever was listening that your face wasn't a tomato. how do you even respond to such a heartfelt statement?

luckily, you didn't need to respond to that because he was quick to follow up his words.

"actually, you seem to be the first person i think about every day. no matter what i'm doing, I'll start to think of what'd you be saying if you were there. anytime i see the sunset, my thought shifts to what it look like if you painted it. hell, i've even found myself eating, yes eating, lemons scones because they bring me reminiscence of you."

xander crept closer as his words flowed out. and you were frozen to your spot. heart pounding louder as he took another step closer to you - leaving less than a foot of space between the two of you.

unsure of how to react you said the first thing that came to mind.

"well, uh, maybe you should think about inflation that usually keeps my mind busy." idiot. why do you open your big mouth.

xander gives you a grin, obviously amused at your nervous rambling like the little jerk he is. he was so close to you, you were embarrassed at the possibility he could he your heart pounding.

he moves his right hand to the side of your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek - eyes never leaving yours. you didn't have the strength to look away or even move, as if he was a vampire who compelled you to stay still.

"i've never known someone to get red so easily as you."

you then realized how much of your face was burning, and then after that statement it heated up even further. stupid nervous system.

"i didn't think your face could get a deeper scarlet than it was a moment ago," he laughs, "it's quite adorable honestly."

oh, god. this guy had your heart fluttering at after calling you adorable.

"i wonder how red you'll get when i kiss you."

you did not have a moment to process what xander utter because at the next second his collided his lips upon yours.

nothing prepared you for how exhilarating kissing him felt. your knees gave out a little, and xander was quick to keep you steady. you weren't even ashamed, stuck in a trance by the kiss. it was as if a scene from a jane austen novel had come to life.

boy, was he a good kisser. it was unfair really, how perfect he could he at anything he wants.

when the two of you pulled away, he was the first to speak up.

"you're about as red as crayon right now."

that was enough to bring you back to reality and shove him.

immediately after that night, the two of you began dating.

at first you thought it was unsaid that the both of you were now dating, but you should've known better than to believe xander hawthorne would take the subtle way.

the following monday you were in the refectory waiting on xander, who'd ask you to meet him there. however, you hadn't seen him yet, so you just sat down at an open table.

suddenly, you hear some sort of a mechanical noises coming from behind you. you turned you heard toward it and nothing could have prepared you to see a life sized R2-D2 robot gliding straight towards you - holding flowers in its utility arm.

what the hell was in your breakfast that morning?

when it made it way in front of you, you were completely stunned. you could feel the gazes of people in the room also witnessing this. the robot look scarily realistic to the ones in the star wars movies, xander really was a genius.

the robot extended another arm to reveal a small envelope. you took it in your own hand, along with the flowers.

WILL YOU BE MY GIRLFRIEND?

a. yes

b. a

c. kiss me

you rolled your eyes at his antics, maybe genius was an overstatement. then you noticed some scribble at the bottom.

p.s. NUTR NUAORD

at first sight of the words - you thought you were having a stroke, but then you figured out you had to unscrambled it to reveal the words 'TURN AROUND'.

of course, xander was always one for puzzles.

you follow the directions of the note and saw the man himself standing before you with a basket full of both lemon and blueberry scones.

"a tough choice, i know. personally, option c is the most appealing."

you wanted to smack the smugness of out him, but instead you opted to answer with letter c.

dating xander was chaotic to say the least, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

you two were never allowed to go on ordinary dates, xander always made sure they were memorable.

for your first date he took you to an escape room, but reserved the whole thing just for the two of you. xander was obviously a pro at the game, but you were quick to figure things out as well. the two of you got the quickest escape time.

at the end of it, he gifted you gold chained necklace with an 'x' and a golden key. you wore it all the time after.

another time you were taken to a amusement park, also reserved for the two of you. you clung on to xander on the scariest rides, much to his enjoyment. it wasn't until the end you saw how there had been pictures taken of you both while on the rides - your expression being fear on almost all of them while your arm was tight grabbing xander's. of course his face was just his charming giant grin of excitement.

he made sure to keep them all and put it as had lock screen despite how much you told him not to.

xander was now way more lenient about the lemon scone thing, and you can proudly say he even enjoys them now. nonetheless, the tradition at lunch is still on-going.

the most nerve wracking part of your relationship was meeting his family.

you learned just how rich xander and his family are. you knew he came from a lot of money, but you were never informed he was related to a billionaire. you couldn't comprehend how having that much money was possible, but xander, of course, acted nonchalant about the whole thing. rich people.

his brothers were all pleasant to meet. nash was the nicest, similar to his brother, he was a charmer with a country accent. grayson was more closed off, and didn't say a lot, but greeted you nicely. jameson, was a wild card, he was a bit drunk, but everyone collectively chose to remain obvious to it. he was also very flirty with you, but you knew it was mainly to annoy xander.

apparently it worked because the following day jameson was found with green hair.

you were introduced to his aunt and mother. his aunt was also pleasant, keeping greeting formal. his mother was.... interesting... the interaction was small, but based on some remarks and backhanded compliments; she looked down on your lower status. xander was quick to defend you and apologize after.

you later were asked to open the front door with a jumble of keys that all looked the same. you assumed this was suppose to be a test of some sort, but you weren't a mastermind at puzzles games like the other hawthornes.

instead, you found a big rock near the front entrance and smashed it against the door locks until they broke.

the brothers looked all bewildered at your action. xander was the first to burst out laughing, come around you to wrap and arm on your shoulder and kiss your forehead.

"that's my girl. who needs logic when you have big rocks."

xander was your biggest supporter in everything. he loved every piece of art you made, and never let you scrap or throw any of it anyway. anything you ever drew or painted him, he would keep it framed and hung in a section of his room dedicated to your work.

he shows up to every art show you have, bragging to people around how his amazing girlfriend painted the work. you always blush in embarrassment, but it never failed to make you happy.

you showed the same support for his activities as well. you cheered him on at my robotic competitions and you were his assistant in helping with small tasks during his building and experiments.

xander made robots were mainly made for doing simple things in overly complicated ways. he also occasionally gifted you robots for small annoying tasks you would offhandedly mention to him.

for instance, xander was walking you to your next class, carrying your backpack as he always insisted it was his job to do. you joked about how you wished he was always around to carry your stuff so your arms wouldn't be so tired.

a few weeks later he gave you a small robot designed to carrying items such as a backup and books. he even gave it wheels so it could follow you around the school like a puppy.

with xanders extroverted personality, it shouldn't surprised you he is not opposed to any PDA. which thea always gags to in the background if she's there to witness it.

he always has his arm around you, preferably your waist, or interlocks your hands together. he loves to gives you random kisses on the forehead or cheek. xander's favorite thing is to surprise you with a kiss on the lips in public, just so he can see you blush.

your first time with xander was very romantic and he made sure it would be. there were candles all over his bedroom and rose petals scattered on the ground. 

although xander was known for being a bit cocky, he was just as nervous as you that night, wanting to make everything special just for you. 

once he made sure you were comfortable - it was like a switch flipped - his cocky persona was back ten fold. 

let’s just say the next day you couldn’t feel your legs, nor could you hide the multiple purple marks left on you. 

of course, ever the gentlemen he was - he made you breakfast in bed the next morning. 

you were even more shocked to find out that was his first time. why is he miraculously good at everything?  

you hung out a lot more at the hawthorne mansion, xander showed you different passages around it. the house was so huge it felt like you've only ever seen 50% of it.

you grew closer to the other hawthorne brothers, taking part in family game night. you after a game of their version of chutes and ladders, you were quick to turn down some offers to play a game.

you also became good friends with avery grambs, you had first met her at the will reading, xander inviting you for moral support. you related to how out of place her and her sister felt around highly rich people.

the events of the will were shocking, but you were happy to find out she'd be sticking around. her moving into the mansion made it easier to hang out with her. you helped her adjust to heights country day and became close.

you and xander both helped avery with what you could in solving the clues his grandather left behind for avery and the hawthornes. although, you kept quiet about the fact xander knew a lot more than he was telling.

however, xander was reluctant to let you join them on anymore research after almost getting shot at when you went along with avery and jameson.

you’d never seen him so mad at his brother, cursing him up and down for putting you in that situation.

xander was insistent for you to stay behind from then on, but you relented and kept tagging along with the others on their little scavenger hunts. xander realized he couldn’t stop you, so he forbid you from going on any clue hunts without him by your side.

it was cute how protective he was, but a little annoying too.

one day you were walking around the mansion with xander looking for jameson, who had wondered off to who knew where. you came across an unfamiliar office. you had asked xander who it belonged to and he informed you it was his grandfathers, now technically avery's.

the two of you entered the office space, you figured xander was curious if anything had changed since his grandfather's passing or if he had maybe left another clue behind.

you were looking around until you eyes came across something behind his desk - a large portrait of who you assumed was tobias hawthorne. upon further inspection, you came to realize another thing.

you painted this portrait.

"holy shit."

even beyond the grave tobias hawthorne keeps on spurring surprises.

[heli0s-writes]

Bucky Barnes with a whole ‘heart eyes muthafucker’ hoe phase for reader but reader’s lizard brain isn’t connecting the dots and instead is like “somebody come get your mans pls he has a really dumb puppy look on his face and i am concerned for his health”

A/N: 800 words of nonsense and 1 conversation about Cap’s erection. Crack. Spicy like a little red pepper flake.

Bag of Tricks one-shots

You’ve always had a sixth sense about things. When you were younger, your family and friends often thought it was an ability— but in truth, it’s just a mixture of careful perception, logical thinking, and educated guessing.  

A little Sherlock Holmes kind of talent. Except less cocaine and no Watson.  

Regardless, Tony calls it your reading.  

“Hey, mind-reader, tell me if Cap’s gotten laid in the past year or not?”

Steve shifts uncomfortably across the room, and that’s all you need.  

“He’s gotten it way more than you. Real wild stuff. The girls could barely take it, Tony.”

Steve flushes a shockingly bright crimson and hides his face in his palms.

“Shit!” Tony cries in disbelief, panicking before making his quick exit, hollering for Pepper down the hall.  

“Jesus.” Beneath your stretched-out legs, Bucky bounces his knee and tugs on his jacket spread over your shoulders. His other hand flips the pages of a book, forearm rubbing lightly on your thigh.

“That was just one time…” Steve mutters embarrassed, and you hide your knowing smirk. You didn’t have to read anyone’s mind to predict that in the last eight months Captain America has gotten laid at least once-- and considering his rabid fanbase, someone has got to be into something kinky.  

Truthfully, you think, Steve’s probably the kinky one. All that pent-up energy for the last 70 years has got to be... explosive. Under your gaze, he squirms and rearranges himself awkwardly.  

“Well, I gave you a gift: now Tony thinks you’re packin’ and you lay pipe. Use it for evil, Rogers.”

“Jesus, fuck,” Bucky groans again, “What did we say about your choice of words around others?” He snaps the book shut and slaps your chest with it.

Unbothered, you turn back to Steve, who is trying desperately to communicate to Bucky with his eyes— sharp jerking motions, probably code for the manual on how to shut you up. Nah. There ain’t one.

“Steve…tell me the truth,” You ask slowly, “It’s big, isn’t it?”

“Okay!” Bucky yells, pushing you off the couch, “That’s enough of that. I’m going shooting.”

Landing on your shoulder with a grunt, you brush away the rough sting of the carpet and catch the last second of his shadow before he’s gone from the room.

“What?” You call, projecting your voice and hoping he hears, “What’d I do? Buck!”

The scape of the chair legs signals Steve standing up, too. A shake of his head and he crosses his arms over his chest.

“You know,” he starts, “For all your insight, you’re pretty dense.”

There’s nothing in your head but sawdust and thoughts about his... measurements. You shake it out of your brain before it lingers too long. Steve points sharply down the hall to where Bucky’s shadow has slipped out of view and hearing-distance.  

“You know he likes you, right?”

Uh? Your brain is the mac loading wheel, just spinning. “Of course he does? We’re buddies?”

Steve cuffs you in the back of the head, “Get it together. Like is putting it lightly, too. Love is closer to the truth.”  

Then, he saunters off, shaking his head all the while, leaving you to gape down the hall like a fish. Bucky? In love? With you?  

Flashes explode in your brain like fireworks. His jacket over your shoulders—not the first time. Sitting underneath your legs— nearly tradition. Morning jogs even though he hates them. The banter—him, scolding your motor-mouth, you— never stopping. Circles he rubs on your knees— the laughter—damn it, so much laughter.

Bucky? In love? With you? It’s more likely than you think. And you just spent ten minutes talking about his best friend’s dick.

A gasp. A choke and a wail somewhere deep inside your chest and then you’re outta there.  

“Buck!” You scream, tearing down the hallway. “Buck! Bucky! I’m sorry! Bucky oh my god! I’m a fuck up!”  

You bang on the glass separating you from the cracks of his pistol and he turns slightly confused, one hand on the side of his earmuffs.

You must look a wreck, hair in disarray and panting hard, his jacket, half-on, half-off.  

Bucky raises an eyebrow, blinks at the way the front is sliding from your shoulder and puts the gun down.

-

“You’re so stupid.”  

An annoyed sigh before a sharp inhale takes its place. He peels his bomber off your back and throws it onto the floor. His mouth hasn’t left yours for anything other than to breathe.

His hands stop at the button of his jeans. The room is spinning— the entire world moving too fast in a feverish haze. Years of close-quartered friendship and the first intimate touch has jumped right into the deep end. You don’t even know when the two of you made way back into his room, but the door clicks shut with a kick from his foot.

“Hey, mind-reader, I got two questions for you.” Bucky calls impishly. “First, how big do you think I am?”

“Second…”

You gulp. Your legs feel like jelly— all the smart words in the entire world wiped completely from existence. The pause he takes is punishingly long and the grin he gives you nearly makes you faint.  

“Do you think you can take it?”

[thedarkoneswithin]

Bullshit with zodiac signs (1/10)

Aquarius : The game is to tell two truths. You can lie if you can't find the truth or don't want to say it but the members will have to guest what is right and what's bullshit in what you told them. You all have thirthy seconds to decide if it's true or a lie.

Aries, Capricorn, Libra : Ok!

Scorpio : I actually majored in architecture, in university cause I'm actually really good at art and I think I have lot of potential when it comes to that. I also happen to be learning the Greek Language so I'm going to get a job in Greece or in Romania.

Aries: Nah, that's capping.

Capricorn: I trust in him, he's done impressive art. I think that's the truth, then and there.

Aries: Don't get cocky, Scorpio is a fucking liar.

Libra: Not really, he's just brutally honest.

Capricorn: Fuck of Aries! Nobody is on your side, okay?-

Aries: You know him! He always said he hated art in high school! You don't ever listen?-

Capricorn: Since when did you ever listen to a word I said?

Libra: Never.

Capricorn: Exactly.

Scorpio: **Chilling and recording the argument in the back round.**

Aquarius: Final Decision?

Libra, Capricorn, Aries : He's innocent.

Aquarius: Okay, Next statement, Scorpio.

Scorpio : I learnt to drive karts by the age of seven years old only, I was considered the next big things cause I had natural talent even if I don't want fame. Speaking from the heart, people.

Libra: Omg! I don't know about that one.....(Panicking)

Aries: **Scream aggressively in the air at the top of his lungs.**

Aries: It's all bullshit.

Capricorn: I'm done with you, Libra what do you think about this?

Libra: He said he's talking from the heart. So it's true?

Aries: Lol it's a lie.... XD

Scorpio: ** Pissed off but doesn't say anything and remains calm in the situation**

Libra: Aries, why is a lie?

Aries: He said it's from the heart. Since when does he have one?....

Aquarius, Capricorn, Libra, Scorpio : How can you say something like that?

Scorpio: This is why I don't enter events with Aries in it. Do you guys get it why I'm not social anymore?

**Silence for three awkward ass minutes**

Aquarius : Final Decision ?

Libra, Capricorn : Innocent.

Aries: Bullshit.

Aquarius: Why bullshit, Aries?

Aries: I said it before, he doesn't have a heart. It's a lie. Nothing but lies all the time....

Aquarius: Scorpio, is this bullshit?

Scorpio: No.

Aquarius: Aries, your disqualified, please get out of my house right now!

Aries: I hate you all.

Scorpio, Aquarius, Capricorn, Libra: Rolls eyes**

Aries: Walks out**

Aquarius: Gemini will be joining us for the last parts.

Aquarius: Welcome, Gemini.

Gemini: .....

Capricorn: Don't you want somebody else, Libra? Gemini is as judgeful as Aries.

Gemini: I'm not-....

***********AWKWARD SILENCE AGAINNNNNNN***********

Scorpio: I use to date Gemini.

Capricorn: Hol' up, what ????

Libra: Huh..........

Capricorn & Libra: Are you being serious right now?? This is a lie for sure. You can't date Gemini, Right?-

Gemini: .........

Aquarius: Wow!

Aquarius: Time is up. So- What's the final Decision?

Capricorn & Libra: It's bullshit. Scorpio doesn't date somebody who's moody, awkward and chaotic.

Aquarius: Scorpio is this bull shit?

Scorpio: Nope, it's true... I used to date Gemini. But I figured, we argued to much and we both went our seperate ways.

Scorpio: The first one was bullshit even if I'm really good at art.

Aquarius, Libra & Capricorn : What??????????

Gemini: It's true..

Libra & Capricorn : The lie was the major and the rest was true?

Scorpio: Correct.

Aquarius: This is phenominal.

Aquarius: Well, I guess that's all for this afternoon folks! See yah tomorrow..

--------------------------------------------------------

I'll make part 2 later if people like this !

Pls if u like my content, don't forget to follow me.

[let-them-read-fics]

What Could've Been

Requested By Anon: "pls do a rosé or jennie imagine where the reader is into them but they just keep rejecting her. then they just cross the line one day and say hurtful things to y/n so the reader just ended up stopped pursuing them. then someone else (could be the other rosé or jennie also of yk what i mean) became interested in y/n and they get all petty and jealous yk djajdua,, COULD BE ANY ENDING HFHSHAU I'M JUST A REAL SUCKER FOR IMAGINES LIKE THIS TYSM"

Pairing: Love Triangle -- Jennie x Fem!Reader and Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 7,333

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Pining, Rejection, Crying, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: ⚠️ Important ⚠️ Class, gather round -- we have some things to discuss. I'm not angry, just... disappointed. *dramatic music*

First off, I want to address something with asks: as I've stated before, there's no certain amount of time that any one request will take me. Sometimes I'm more inspired by one than others, and sometimes I legitimately lack the time or brainpower to write a piece that holds true to my standards.

Please, refrain from messaging me multiple times about a request. Once is fine, especially if it's been awhile since you first asked, but I'm doing my best to give you starving fans the content you wish to see, and that takes time.

To those of you who continue to be patient with me: I sincerely appreciate it.

Secondly, I hope you enjoy this. ♡ Happy Reading ♡

PS ~ Anon, I still love you. Now enjoy this fic or you're grounded.

PPS ~ It gets better as it goes on

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Thank you," you politely say to your driver, handing him some money before stepping out of the sleek black car and onto the sidewalk. The bottoms of your shoes crunch lightly as they come in contact with the concrete, steadily announcing your course towards the performance hall. 

You let out a breath as you stand in the elevator, alone with your thoughts in the small space as it ascends. 

Your hands nervously palm the fresh bouquets of flowers you purchased on your way here -- the girls just finished a comeback stage, so you've decided to surprise them and show your love. You spent time picking out a personalized batch for each of them, making sure to mix their favorite colors and types, but you went even further for Rosé: you hand picked a larger, special array, choosing them based on their meaning and how much you think she'll appreciate them. Over the years, you've made sure to note her favorite ones; that came in handy tonight, and the florist assisting you definitely appreciated your attention to detail. 

Too chicken to go to her first, you decide to bring the other girls their gifts now and save Rosie for last. All of them are unwinding independently in their dressing rooms right now, enjoying some much needed alone time before coming back together later to celebrate. 

"Jisoo-yah!" You sing-song, rapping lightly on the door. It's slightly ajar, but you still knock out of respect for her privacy. 

In an instant, the door swings open to reveal a very happy unnie. "Y/N! I've missed you!" She nearly shouts, pulling you in for an eager hug. A surprised noise leaves her lips as her hands come in contact with the bundle behind your back, crinkling the plastic slightly in her excited state. 

"I got you a present," you say, smiling softly. Jisoo can feel the way your cheeks raise up, brushing against the skin of her neck as your head rests there, and her heart melts. After pulling out of the embrace, she wiggles her eyebrows at you.

"Well? Let me see!" You do as she asks with a chuckle, pulling her bunch out of the hold of the rubber band that's keeping them all together. "I got your favorite." You grin, sticking them out for her to see. Her eyes widen at the sight, and she's touched by the kind gesture. Flowers aren't particularly unique in terms of what companies and fans send them, but seeing the effort you put in makes it incredibly special. She couldn't be happier. 

"Y/N, you're the best." She presses a small kiss to your cheek as a thank you, and invites you in right after. Jisoo considers you to be one of the closest friends she has, so being apart hasn't been easy on her. You're the only person she's okay with venting and crying in front of, and she's been needing that lately. Sensing this, you pull a chair up to her vanity and let her fill you in on all the mayhem you missed out on during your time away, holding her hand for reassurance. When she gets a little frustrated, you rub her back gently, telling her to take her time. 

Jisoo is beyond thankful for you, and that becomes more and more apparent the closer you two get. Times like these hold a special place in her heart and remind her of why she loves you so much. You truly are a great friend to have, and there's no one she'd rather have in her corner. 

----

"Incoming! 3...2...1…" You call out, standing in front of Lisa's door, ready to knock it down and barge in. The greeting is an inside joke between the two of you, though neither of you know where its origins lie. 

"Yah! Hold on!" She shouts, nearly tripping and falling from how quick she rushes to the door. You laugh at the sounds of chaos coming from inside, wincing slightly when a thud rings out. Hair slightly disheveled, she opens the door with a huff. "This had better be good, because I almost died." 

Wordlessly, you reveal her present and smirk as the halfhearted scowl on her face disappears completely, giving way to a dopey grin. "You remembered?" She asks quietly, running her fingers over the petals of her all-time favorite flower. The fact that she sounds so shocked makes you sad -- not many people take enough time to notice the little things. They'd rather focus on profiting off of the girls' talents than actually caring enough to get to know them. 

"Of course I did, Lisa. You're one of my best friends; how could I forget?" The maknae pulls you in for a meaningful hug, allowing the gesture to tell you all the things she doesn't know how to express. She's not always the best with her words, but she makes up for it with her actions. 

"I really love you, dork. You know that?" She asks as she pulls away, ruffling your hair lightly. She cracks that smile that seems to make the world stop, and you just shake your head. 

"You'd better. Your flowers were the most expensive!" You tease, dodging her when she reaches out to grab you for that one. 

"Get back here!" She shouts, chasing you down the hall like a 5 year old, planning to get her revenge. 

---

"Jendeukie, open up!" You squeal, pounding on her door while throwing a look over your shoulder. Lisa is dangerously close, ready to tackle you as she continues charging down the hall. 

"Y/N?!" She exclaims from the other side of the door, clearly not expecting you to be here. 

"Hurry!" You can hear footsteps eagerly rushing towards the door, and just as she opens it, disaster strikes. 

Lisa's arms wrap around your waist, pushing you forward and right into Jennie. The three of you fall into her dressing room in a messy heap, limbs splayed in various positions as you yell together on the way down. You manage to keep the flowers out of harm's way, thankfully, and your arm remains stuck out just in case Lisa tries anything else. 

"Hello to you, too, Y/N." Jennie groans with a chuckle, the words coming out a little strained from all the weight on her. Lisa stands first, pulling you up right after, and you turn to help your best friend up as well. 

"I sure know how to make an entrance, huh?" Your lopsided grin makes Jennie weak in the knees, much like it has ever since she met you all those years ago, and she has to fight to contain the blush that rises to her cheeks. After bantering with Lisa for a few more moments you eventually push her out of the room, shoo-ing her back to her own in order to give yourself some one-on-one time with Jennie. 

You stick your tongue out at the maknae one final time before shutting the door and turning around, finding a very soft looking Jennie peering back at you. Her cheeks are pulled back in her signature gummy smile, and the fluffy sleeves of her Chanel sweater engulf her small hands as she cradles her face in them. 

Perhaps, if circumstances were different, you'd be hopelessly pining for this 5'4" angel instead of Rosé. Love knows no logic, though, and you're stuck chasing after a certain Australian beauty that never seems capable of giving you the time of day.

"I missed you," she pouts, pursing her lips adorably as she steps forward to wrap her arms around your shoulders. You pull her in and pick her up with a spin, smiling into her neck when she giggles in your ear. 

"Well, I'm here now. And luckily for you…." you start, allowing for some anticipation to build, "I come bearing gifts. Well, a gift. Singular." Jennie chuckles at your rambling -- it's one of the traits she finds most endearing about you, and she always hates it when people cut you down for it. It's adorable in every way. 

"Oh?" She asks, intrigued as she raises an eyebrow -- she's keeping the act up for you, of course, too fond of the cute smile on your face to tell you that she already knows what it is. You hand over the flowers with a little jig, too excited by how happy she looks to contain yourself. 

"They're beautiful, Y/N." She stops herself from adding a, "just like you," to the end of the phrase, wishing she was able to say things like that. You deserve to be reminded of how special you are everyday, and she knows her bandmate fails to do so. 

"So, what've you been up to?" You amble over to the couch that's tucked away in the corner of her dressing room, plopping down onto the cushions with a small bounce. Rosé's flowers lay beside you, and Jennie eyes them. 

"Same old, same old," she says, finally looking back at you with a tiny grin. "Practice for the comeback has kept us really busy lately, and somebody hasn't been there to tell us jokes at 3AM and keep us going." She playfully rolls her eyes, pretending to be annoyed. 

"My most sincere apologies," you hold a hand over your heart in mock regret, bowing your head with closed eyes. "On the bright side, though, I'm back in town for next month or two. I finished the business deals we had to handle abroad, so now I'm all yours." 

She knows you didn't mean hers, but that doesn't stop her from pretending. 

A happy noise of approval slips past her lips, and she claps excitedly. The sight reminds you of some of the childhood videos she's shown you, the two looking eerily similar to one another. No matter what may happen in her life, Jennie will most certainly remain that innocent young girl at heart, getting scared by everything that moves and loving with her all. She's an amazing person to know, and part of you feels sorry for everyone who'll never get the privilege of knowing her personally -- after all, everyone deserves a Jennie Kim in their lives. 

"Are you celebrating with us later?" She asks from in front of her mirror, now brushing her hair to busy herself. She runs the risk of making her feelings too obvious if she doesn't keep herself occupied. 

"I was planning to, yes. But that might depend on Rosé." You inform with a nervous chuckle, an anxious smile playing on your lips. When you look up and find her brows furrowed, you elaborate. 

"I'm gonna try to ask her out today when I bring her these flowers." You lightly chew your bottom lip out of habit, rubbing your hands together. The mere thought of such a task is daunting, especially with your not-so-perfect track record when it comes to her. You still try to cling to what little hope you have squirreled away in your heart, wishing with all your power that your sweet present will convince Rosé to at least give you a chance. 

Distracted by your thoughts, you don't notice the way that Jennie's face falls. Her heart is breaking in silence, splintering into pieces far too small to put back together. She knew this day would come eventually, given that you're a determined person and head over heels for Rosé, but that doesn't mean she was prepared to find out like this. The lovesick glimmer in your eye hurts Jennie even more, knowing that you're probably imagining what it would be like for her to say yes to you. This whole time, Rosé has been stringing you along -- giving you just enough hope to keep coming back to her, using your devoted acts of kindness selfishly -- and Jennie would do anything to make you see that. You don't deserve what she puts you through. 

"...Earth to Jennie!"

The brunette snaps back to reality and clears her throat, attempting to gather her thoughts again. 

"Sorry, just got lost there for a second." She says, looking back into your eyes after a moment. A curious look plays in them, and she can practically see you debating on whether or not to question her further. She lets out a quiet sigh of relief when you accept her answer, choosing instead to smile at her. 

"It's alright. But what's not alright, is that I've been sitting here for 5 minutes and you haven't come over to cuddle me. I mean seriously, a girl's gone for forever and her best friend doesn't bombard her with love?" You shake your head with an amused smile, throwing your hands in the air. 

Oh, the things she would do to change that title. 

Successfully suppressing the pang of longing that runs through her, Jennie quips back, "A month and a half is hardly forever, Y/N." 

"It felt like it, though. I missed seeing you." 

She finds you pouting, your arms folded across your chest like a toddler, and her heart melts. Any amount of time without you is too long for Jennie's liking, and she's happy to know you missed her as well. 

"Fine, I guess I can spare some cuddles." She pretends to be put out as she approaches you, really playing the part by huffing and looking uninterested. Inside, though, she's celebrating. She can't wait to hold you close again, even if it may lead to her hurting herself with the what-ifs and scenarios that play in her mind. 

"Yay!" You shout, pulling her into your lap before laying your head on her shoulder. Her heart beats rapidly at the proximity, and she prays to every higher power in existence that you don't notice it. 

She relaxes after a moment, releasing the tension from her muscles as she sinks into your embrace. It's warm and comforting, and she never wants you to let go. Her head rests on top of yours, and she's content just running her hands through your hair, feeling your calm breaths against her skin. 

She's so in love it hurts. 

-----

This'll convince her, you whisper to yourself, attempting to sound confident -- key word: attempting. If there's one thing you know about Rosé, it's that she loves to be difficult with you. You caught feelings for her years ago when you were first introduced to each other at a company event, and ever since then you've done nice things for her nonstop, hoping that she'd fall for you with time. The longer you wait, though, the more discouraged you get. Regardless, those times that she appreciates your efforts make up for all the rest, and you'd gladly take 100 instances of the "bad" in order to have even just one of the "good". 

After taking a deep breath, you knock on the door a couple times.

A sigh can be heard, sounding like a complete 180 from the reactions of the other girls. The subsequent footsteps are heavy -- like she's dragging her feet, not even wanting to get up in the first place -- and they work to dishearten you a bit. Nevertheless, you imagine how happy she'll be when she sees the surprise, and a small smile makes its ways onto your lips. All you want to do is brighten her day, if only for a moment. 

An indifferent expression rests on her face when she first opens the door, likely expecting someone else to be standing in your place. Not much changes when she realizes it's you, though a sliver of a smile does quirk up at the corner of her lips. 

"Hiya Rosie," you greet sweetly, unable to contain how wide your smile grows at seeing her again. She makes you feel like a giddy school girl, and you can't decide if you love it or hate it. 

"What's up?" She asks, more out of common courtesy than anything else. Her body leans against the doorframe, her left arm resting behind the door. She didn't throw it open or invite you in like the other girls, so that tells you that she probably doesn't want visitors. 

When you take too long to answer, she asks dryly, "Are you just gonna stare at me?" Her voice is laced with a slight undertone of annoyance -- one that makes you shrink down a bit. You can practically hear how exhausted she is, and part of you feels bad for disturbing her with your presence. 

"N-no, sorry." You curse yourself for looking like a fool. "I got you something that I think you'll enjoy." Her eyebrows raise slightly and you can tell she's intrigued, even if she may try to deny it. 

"Here." You declare, nervously fixing the plastic as you hold the bundle in front of you. You want it to look perfect for her. 

"I, uh, hand picked it." 

"Thank you, it's lovely." She says politely, taking them from you and bringing them up to her nose. She admires the gentle, pleasant scent of them, and smiles appreciatively at you.

You blush under her gaze, slightly tripping over your words as you respond, "Of course, I'm glad you like it." 

Now, the part you dread: when the conversation dwindles down, threatening to end entirely unless you step up to keep it going. 

"Well, how've you been?" You cringe at the overused question, but you're willing to employ it in order to hear her sweet voice for a little longer. 

"Look, Y/N, I really appreciate the gift and all, and I'm really happy to see you again, but I don't feel like talking right now. I just want to enjoy myself for a little bit." Her denial makes you scrunch your face up, embarrassed beyond belief as her words sink in. You should've known that flowers wouldn't suffice. Perhaps that last line stung the most -- you try not to read too far into it, but the idea that she doesn't enjoy herself when talking to you nags at your heart. 

"Yeah, yeah. For sure." You scratch the back of your neck, awkwardly taking a step away from her door and back into the hallway. 

"I'll see you at the get together later though, right?" You ask, kicking yourself when you realize how hopeful you sounded. You have to get better at hiding it. 

"Sure," she nods, sending you a smile and little wave before saying goodbye and shutting the door. 

Well, that was a bust. Damn. Back to the drawing board, it is -- though your ego will need a few hours to recover. 

---

"Lisa, I swear to god, if you come near me with that I'll punt you across this room." 

Your very serious, totally-not-exaggerated warning evidently worked against you, because the maknae soon raises her head to look at you, grinning like a maniac. Frosting from the cake she just messily cut into covers her hands, looking threatening as she wiggles them at you. 

"I mean in!" You shout as a last resort, slowly backing away. You accidently bump into Jennie in the process, but you fail to realize that it was part of the plan all along: she and Lisa are in cahoots. When the maknae lunges, swiftly striding across the room towards you, you attempt to move out of her path and get somewhere safer. Steady hands on your waist keep you anchored in place, though, and you try to fight them. 

"Jennie?! Let me go, she's right there!" You squeal, trying to pry her fingers off of your hips one by one. She merely laughs, whispering a sorry into your ear right before Lisa's hands run across your cheeks and neck. You squirm, leaning further back against Jennie to evade the younger girl as she does her worst. 

Now, practically having a face mask of frosting, you step away from the girls and glare at them. 

"Bullies, I tell you." You say to Jisoo, groaning when she busts out laughing. It doesn't take a genius to know that you look a mess, and you'd probably laugh at yourself if the roles were reversed. The others soon join in, and a chorus of belly laughs fill the air around you. 

"Go ahead, laugh it up," you tell the girls, nodding your head, "Just wait til I get my revenge. I'm coming for you, Manoban." You point a finger at her as you exit the room, grinning when you hear the oooo's that they let out at your threat, and you make your way to the bathroom at the end of the long hallway before you.

On your way back, you hear Rosé's voice filtering in from one of the lounge rooms that branch off of the main corridor. Intrigued, you stop walking and listen in. 

Big mistake. 

Your ears perk up when you hear your name roll off her tongue, though her subsequent sentences crush your spirits. 

"...I know, right? She's honestly so annoying. Like earlier, I was finally getting cozy after our performance and then she just showed up."

Too shocked to leave now, you stay where you are and try not to let her words hurt you too much. She listens to the person on the other end of the line, laughing at something they said. That sound -- one you’ve grown to love more than anything else in the world -- is turning into something you hate. It feels like she's laughing at you; which, in hindsight, she probably is. 

"Exactly! She had flowers for me, as if I don't get those almost everyday already, and I guess she really thought that that would win me over. It was sweet but, c'mon, you know?"

Every insecurity you have is nagging at you, and you can't stop the few tears that roll down your cheeks at her brutal honesty. She's really hurting your feelings, and you can't help but want to call her out for it. So, you do just that: you step into the open room, one that lacks an actual door, and say, "Next time you wanna talk shit about someone, maybe you should make sure they're not around to hear it." 

Her smile falters slightly, and she spins around to face you. A hint of guilt plays on her features, but you're sure it's only because she got caught -- she definitely meant everything she said. 

"Y/N--"

You don't stick around to listen to what she has to say. Her change of behavior surprised you, and you can't trust that she's even sorry for it. 

Your pace quickens as you hear her voice become clearer -- she's in the doorway now, calling after you, but you don't even turn around. The salt of your tears greets your tongue, and you're once again reminded to wipe your face as you rush down the hall, rounding a couple corners and darting past countless doors on your way. You just want to get out of this place and be alone. 

A new voice slows your strides as it greets your ears, feeling like a security blanket in its gentleness. It's Jennie. "Y/N? Why are you crying?" She came to look for you when you took too long to return from the bathroom. 

You're far too embarrassed to look at her, so you simply sniffle and raise a hand up in her direction. "Don't worry about me, Jen. It's not important." 

"Hey, yes it is. You're upset and that matters." She steps towards you, saying the words that you had no idea you needed to hear so badly. Your heart aches, still shocked by the fact that Rosé would say such things about you. You thought you were friends, if nothing else, and yet that's never felt further from the truth than it does right now. 

When you don't move away, Jennie takes that as a sign to bring you into her arms, cradling your head against her chest. The kind act hurts your heart more for some reason, and you want to pull away. Jennie senses this and decides to rub soothing circles on your back, her warm embrace comforting you as she says, "I don't know what happened, Y/N, but I'm right here. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, either, but please don't leave like this. I hate to see you upset." 

Something about the way she's holding you, so close and tenderly, is comforting beyond belief and you can't find the desire to leave anymore. 

"Can we at least go to your dressing room? I don't want everyone to see me like this."

"Of course, sweetheart. Come on." 

Sweet phrases of reassurance are whispered to you as she leads you away, keeping you safe from prying eyes the entire time. Jisoo appears in the doorway of the party room, raising a concerned brow when she sees the two of you approaching. Jennie shakes her head at the unnie before she can utter a word, giving her a silent answer as she uses her eyes to communicate what's happening. Jisoo eventually understands, and she offers a sympathetic nod when you pass by.  

-------

7 Months Later

"Hey Jennie, do you think you can go answer the door? I'd do it myself, but…" Jisoo trails off, glancing down at the bowl of partially mixed dough that sits in front of her on the counter. Her hands continue to knead the mixture as she looks up at the younger girl, subtly sighing in relief when she agrees. 

There's more than one reason behind having Jennie be the one to answer it. 

The brunette grabs a pen as she pads her way over to the door, ready to sign for a delivery package -- that's usually the only thing they get at the dorm, considering guests are discouraged for the most part. Screw YG and their rules. 

Being a bit clumsy, Jennie accidently knocks her phone out of her own hand as she opens the door, muttering out a quiet “shit” as she bends down to retrieve it. Her eyes trail over to the stylish boots that set just a few feet away, and her breath hitches. 

"Hi baby." You greet with that healing smile that she's missed so much, peering down at her with a look in your eye that makes her heart trip and stumble over itself. 

"Y/N!" She shrieks, jumping up from the ground and right into your arms. 

"Uumph--" you let out in surprise, making sure to catch her and prevent her from falling. Ever since you two began dating a few months ago, leaving has become harder and harder. Jennie is beyond thrilled to have you back again, and she tries not to think about the next business trip you'll have to take. It's a methodical rhythm -- a month or two abroad and the same amount back home, then you're left to repeat the cycle over and over. Both of you hate it, and you'd much rather spend all your time with her instead. After all, ever since the incident with Rosé all that time ago, Jennie has steadily worked her way into your heart and become someone you can't live without. You were close before, but you've reached a new level now -- and that's about the only thing you can thank Rosé for. By hurting you and showing you how little she cared, she effectively pushed you right into Jennie's waiting arms.

"I'm so happy you're home." She says with a sigh, truly grateful to have you in her arms again. You wrap your arms tighter around her waist and sway a little bit, both of you content with just holding each other for a while longer. The weather outside is dazzlingly perfect; signs of summer apparent in everything around you. Birds chirp their looping songs as they fly through the air, feeling the sun's gentle heat on their wings all the while. 

You move your head enough to be level with hers, bringing her in for a long-overdue kiss. She smiles into it, cupping your cheek with one of her hands as she languidly moves to deepen it. 

Rosé should've stayed in her room. She should've ignored her stomach's incessant grumbling for a snack; but she didn't. 

She gave in, and now she's stuck, rooted in place as she watches Jennie kiss you, the one that got away. It's like watching a train wreck: she can't look away, and part of her psyche knows she deserves this. The apple in her hands is the only thing working to distract her, and she grips it tightly within her clutch to comfort herself. You look good -- so good -- and Rosé doesn't know whether to be happy or not. She knows she didn't treat you right -- then or ever -- but for some selfish reason that she doesn't dare give voice to, she wants you to still be hurting. She wants you to be suffering like she is now, crying into your pillowcase at night when she crosses your mind. She wants you to miss the good times, though there may not have been enough of them, and she wants you to want her again. 

You've turned the tables on her, and she doesn't know how to cope. 

She realized what she had once it was gone -- once you were gone, too busy falling in love with Jennie to pay her any mind anymore. She misses how devoted you were to her and how much care you put into everything you did; she misses the consistency that you offered; she misses every sweet thing you ever did for her. Hell, she even misses hearing you ramble and seeing you blush when all she did was smile at you. 

But you're gone now, destined to be with her member when all she wants is another chance. She'll never get it, certainly not after everything she's put you through, and she resents herself for treating you so badly. All you ever did was care, and she was too self-centered to give a crap. 

She deserves this. She deserves to see you happy with Jennie, happy in a way she could never make you. For you, she deserves to hurt; to silently cry in her room when she hears the two of you on call, laughing about whatever new thing you experienced that day. Because it wasn't just the one instance of pain she inflicted on you; it wasn't just that one night at the performance hall -- it was a steady build up of rejection and half-assed excuses, and even she can't blame you for getting tired of it. She wishes she hadn't been so stupid to deny you. 

What's worse is that she's actually fallen for you now; she imagines what could've been, what would've been, had she given you an honest chance. She's never tried to deny how gorgeous you are -- that's a given -- but now you're bruisingly beautiful, shining with the happiness that Jennie's worked hard to instill in you again. Shining with the love you hold for that 5'4" angel. 

Maybe, if circumstances were different, you'd be in Rosé's arms right now. Perhaps in another life. 

---

"Do you want to come in? Jisoo's working on some dessert for the lunch we just made. We can heat you up a plate in the meantime…" Jennie trails off, hoping to persuade you. She knows it's risky, considering the tension that feels almost tangible anytime the three of you are together, but she doesn't want to let you go so soon. 

"I don't know…" The uncertainty in your voice is clear, and Jennie watches as a slight grimace crosses your features when you look past her and into the dorm. Luckily Rosé had already found the will power to move to the dining room, so you're spared from seeing her just yet. 

"If things get weird or uncomfy we'll leave, okay? I promise." She says, knowing she's convinced you once you give her a little nod. 

"Okay. But I'm only doing this because I missed Jisoo's cooking." A playful glint shimmers in your eye as you quirk your head to the side, teasing her. 

"Hey!" She groans, pushing your shoulder as the two of you walk down the little concrete path that leads to the front door. "I'm kidding! I missed Lisa's jokes, too." 

You laugh at the gasp she lets out, and you make sure to turn around and press a kiss to her temple to stop her from pouting. 

--

"So, Y/N, where did you go this time?" Jisoo asks, leaning against the marble island of the kitchen as she pops a piece of tanghulu in her mouth. The crack of the sugary coating pulls your attention away from Rosé, where it had momentarily been -- she looks awful. Bags rest underneath her eyes, her normally vibrant features crestfallen now as her gaze scans across the food on her plate. 

You look at Jisoo as you answer her. "The states. We worked with some local companies and small businesses to get more promotional material out in front of people. It's actually pretty amazing, guys -- you're blowing up over there. They love you." The girls smile at your words, feeling a sense of accomplishment swell within themselves. Back when they were trainees they never imagined that they'd end up this far, and yet here they are, seeing their dreams come true, day after day. 

You're just happy to be along for the ride. It's not easy by any means -- people often crack under the pressure and get discouraged by the hustle and bustle of everything that such a major operation entails -- but you've never been more thankful for a position in your life. 

"As they should," Lisa smirks, looking self-assured with the little cocky motion she does. You almost choke on the piece of food you just stuffed in your mouth, laughing at how ridiculous she looks. 

After successfully not dying, you look at her and shake your head. "Lisa, what is wrong with you?" She puts on her infamous meme face, pretending to be shocked by your question, and you cackle again. The sound makes Rosé jealous; she wishes she were the one making you laugh like that. 

Another hour or so passes with the 5 of you just relaxing and snacking together at the table, taking turns trading stories and jokes in the meantime. After finishing your dessert and complimenting the unnie's cooking skills, you make your way towards the kitchen with a groan of, "I'm so full" thrown over your shoulder. 

You begin washing the dishes, finding it only fitting seeing as they spent all that time preparing such a good meal. It's the least you can do. A smile tugs at your cheeks when you hear the door open, followed by light footfalls against the hardwood. Jennie. 

Warm arms snake around your waist as she hugs you from behind, resting her cheek against your back. Your brows furrow when you notice an unusual thing -- either Jennie grew a few inches in the last 5 minutes, or someone else is holding you. Their cheek reaches a place Jennie isn't tall enough to, and it all hits you.

It's Rosé. 

You go to shut the water off and step away, but the sounds of her quiet sniffles give you pause. "Please don't." She whispers into your shirt, bunching the material up within her fingers against your stomach. A pang of sadness pulls against your heart strings, the long forgotten feeling reignited by the waver in her voice. "Rosé," you start with a sigh, ready to launch into the practiced speech of how happy you are with Jennie now and how you've moved on. She tugs at your shirt, slowly turning you around, and you can't find it in yourself to break her heart even further in this moment. Her eyes are filled with what tears have yet to stream down her face, brimming with the salty liquid you hate to see. 

Even after everything, you can't stand to see her cry. 

So, perhaps stupidly, you allow her to lean forward and rest her head against your chest; you let her fall into your arms, sinking into the embrace she never intended to miss so much. 

It was innocent. Completely, utterly innocent, but Rosé couldn't stop herself -- not when you were there again, right in front of her, looking so good it hurt. She wrapped her arms around your neck, pushing her lips against yours in a kiss you weren't prepared for at all. Her mouth moved quickly against yours, knowing you'd be shoving her away at any moment. But she was okay with being selfish again -- she needed you then, and you allowed her to keep kissing you until you realized what was happening. 

As you go to stumble away and put distance between the two of you, the door once again opens; only this time, it's actually Jennie. Her eyes immediately dart between the two of you as she notices how Rosie's hands are still holding you close, both of your lips swollen from the kiss. All at once you realize how the situation must look, and you begin panicking. You knew this was a bad idea from the start. 

"Jennie, no. I promise this isn't what you think." You shake your head, finally freeing yourself of Rosé's grip as you take a couple steps towards your girlfriend. She takes an equal amount back, scoffing lightly at the memory of the scene she just witnessed. 

"Yeah, okay," she says, sounding anything but convinced as she makes her way towards the door. You go after her, but she holds a hand up -- after knowing her for so long, you've learned that that signal means to give her some time alone. Both of you know you'll go after her again later, but she needs some time right now. As she leaves the dorm, the heavy sound of the door shutting is the only noise that cuts through the palpable tension. 

"How could you do that?" You ask, voice small, not even turning around to look at Rosé. You doubt that she's even sorry. 

She isn't sorry. At least, not for kissing you. It felt good to have you like that, and she doesn't regret it. However, from what angle of your face your side profile offers to her, she can see how upset you are. That's what makes her feel the slightest bit guilty for her timing. 

"I spent so much time trying to get you to notice me, and now you choose to do that? You're unbelievable, Roseanne-- I'm finally happy, and what, you want to ruin that?” She takes the blows as they come, staying quiet. “If you've ever cared about me at all then you'll stay away." You set your jaw, willing the tears to go away. You've wasted too many on her, and you'll be damned to look weak right now. 

"Y/N, I-" 

"No. Don't apologize when we both know you don't mean it. You've always been selfish, Rosé." You bite back, not caring if the words cut her down like her old ones always used to do to you. Earlier, before her little stunt, you were starting to feel sorry for her; clearly though, that was yet another mistake on your part. 

You leave without another word, praying that she doesn't further complicate the situation by following after you. Jennie is the only thing on your mind as you hop in your car, having an idea of where she might be.

--

"Jennie, no. I promise this isn't what you think." 

Your worried voice replays in her mind for the millionth time, further tormenting her. She's been cheated on before, so that phrase isn't a new thing to her. 

She was always afraid this would happen. She used to lay awake at night, overthinking as usual, wondering when the beautiful thing the two of you created would ultimately come crashing down. It was too good to be true, and she curses herself for foolishly believing any different. 

The better part of an hour passes by as she sits on the park bench, reminiscing on all the memories you've made here. The idea of ending things with you and starting over with someone else sinks in, and she hates the feeling. She only wants you -- she's only ever wanted you -- and the thought that things could really be over now hurts her more than she cares to admit. 

Your eyes scan across the park, ghosting over the playground equipment until they zero in on her, sitting near the fountain that you shared your first kiss. Such a sap, you smile bittersweetly. 

You ruffle through the plastic bag that sits in the passenger's seat, moving the receipt out of the way so that you can pick up what you're really after. Returning your hands to the steering wheel, you grip it while giving yourself a little pep talk before exiting the car. You press a kiss to the present in your hand for good luck, hoping this encounter will go well. 

Water spouts from the top of the fountain, the sound growing louder the closer you get to Jennie. Her back is turned to you, and for that you're thankful -- you're not quite prepared to see how she'll be looking at you. Now just a few feet away, you say, "Marry me."

You’ll do whatever it takes to show her how crazy you are about her.

Her head whips around, completely taken aback by your proposal. She thinks that there's no way you're serious, but when she looks down to find her favorite flavor of ring pop in your hand, her eyes widen. You're sick of wasting time, and seeing that she hasn't yelled at you or turned you away yet, you take advantage of the situation. 

"Marry me, Jennie," you repeat, taking small, careful steps towards her until you're right next to the bench. "She kissed me, but I tried to push her away. I told her that you're the only one for me." 

She blinks, taking in your words as she notices you nervously toy with the plastic wrapper of the candy. She knows you're telling the truth; you're a terrible liar, and you wouldn't be here right now if you didn't want her back. If you wanted to choose Rosé over her, you had the perfect opportunity to do so back at the dorm.

But you don't; you want Jennie, and now you're standing in the middle of your favorite park, proposing with a piece of candy to prove that to her. The things you do for love. 

"It just scared me, Y/N. Seeing her wrapped around you like that--"

"I know, baby. I know. But I promise I didn't want it, and it meant nothing to me. I'm so in love with you, Jennie Kim." 

She smiles at the dopey grin on your face, seeing how smitten you are. 

"Okay," she answers back, yet again looking at your hands. 

"Is that a yes?" You ask, slowly beginning to tear open the wrapper. 

"Yes, dummy. I'll marry you." She declares, nodding her head with a laugh at how slow you are sometimes. 

"Yay!" You shout, stepping forward to pick her up in your arms. You set her back down with a smile, slipping the ring onto her finger as your heart soars. 

Jennie kisses you, letting the action convey all the emotions she's been through in the past few hours. "I love you." She sighs, resting her forehead against yours. 

"I'd surely hope so, jagi," you smirk against her lips, giggling at the squeal she lets out when you playfully pinch her side. Her kisses are replacing all traces of Rosé, and she's comforted by the fact that you'll so adamantly choose her, everyday. 

With a smile, Jennie realizes something: never again will she be forced to dream of having you in another life -- her wishes came true, and now she'll have you in this one, always.

[adoresobs]

- the other pov! ( 𝐓.𝐂 )

the reader’s a singer and after listening to her good friend, harry’s song ‘falling’, she decides to make the other person’s pov which she relates to because of her recent breakup with timmy.

THIS FIC CONTAINS just angst mostly

can’t tell if i love or hate this but i decided to give something new a try and this is how it turned out-

part one | part two | part three 

𝐌 𝐀 𝐒 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐋 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓

THE SONG

you set up your phone, pressing the ‘go live’ button, watching as the comments began to fill up with countless compliments already.

“hey guys!” you tried your best to be the usual bubbly person your fans saw even with the breakup still being fresh in your mind. you grew closer to the phone to read the comments.

userone quarantine got everyone looking rough

“damn, do i look that bad?” you laughed, pushing some of your hair behind your ear. you could what they meant, your hair was tied in a ‘ponytail’ or just a mop on top of your head, no makeup was on your face, and you had on sweats. you could say you didn’t dress up at all.

usertwo u still look gorgeous queen it’s fiNe

userthree did u and timmy actually break up or is teen vogue playing with my feelings

userfour k but what’s with these articles ‘y/n l/n and timothée chalamet call it quits?!’

that was only a fraction of the comments you were receiving about him. you let out a nervous laugh, biting down on your lip. “okay, so, the reason i started this up was to show you all something i’ve been working on. if you know harry’s beyond amazing self and you listen to his music then you know falling which is also amazing. wellll, i made a slight remake of it? but it’s like from the other person’s point of view.” you explained.

userfive did u and timmy actually break up ):

usersix we writing sad songs now-

“yes, we are writing sad songs now,” you said with a small laugh. “no but all credits and shit go to harry and if you don’t listen to him, you should. he’s a really good friend of mine and you’re missing out if you don’t.”

userseven baby ur such a good person

usereight i want a y/n, she’s so supportive

usernine still dodging questions about timothée huh

“thank you for wanting a..me?” you giggled before turning to your piano. “okay, so i can play it but i’m not the best at piano so spare me, please.”

userten shes so precious

usereleven timothée lost all this

usertwelve how does she still look gorgeous without trying

your smile faltered at the comment about your ex. “alright, i’m gonna start.” you told the thousands of people watching, looking down at the keys and beginning to play.

“i’m in my bed, instead of yours, cried to sleep, turned off all of the lights and locked all of the doors.”

you remembered the day after everything went down. you barely got out of bed unless it was to use the bathroom. the most you did was cry and sleep when you couldn’t cry anymore.

“i replay what you said, don’t know if it’s true, left with two broken hearts and there’s nothing that we can undo.”

“i don’t want to be with you another.” timothée said, breaking the silence. you’d spent hours arguing about pointless things, it escalated the longer the fight went on. you just looked up at him, trying to scan his face, see if he truly wanted this. his head was facing the ground so you couldn’t read his expression. “this isn’t gonna work out for much longer and we both know that so i’ll just save us the trouble of going through this later on.”

“what am i now? what am i now? don’t wanna cry ‘cause i can’t stand the sound,”

you cringed at the screaming baby in the supermarket, catching timothée’s eye quickly. “little loud for you?” he asked, a smile on his face.

“i can’t stand the sound of crying so yes, it is.” you shot back, reaching over to hit his arm. timothée rubbed his arm, flipping you off.

“wouldn’t have guessed since you cry almost everyday.” he joked which made you gasp.

“i would appreciate it if i wasn’t being attacked by my boyfriend right now.”

“i’m falling again, i’m falling again, i’m falling.”

userthirteen she’s really making me cry like this

userfourteen truly think she did this because of the breakup with timmy ):

userfifteen about to go fuck up his perfect face if he hurt my baby

“what if i’m down? what if i’m out? what if you’re someone i can’t live without?”

“are you gonna admit that you love me or are we gonna have to keep doing this hate thing?” timothée asked after you’d stated you hated him for the third time that day. “mm, i think i’m gonna stick with the hate thing.” you answered, letting out a laugh.

“okay, y/n, i’m gonna need you to repeat after me.”

“mhm.” you decided to play whatever game he was playing.

“i, y/n l/n”

“i, y/n l/n,” you repeated.

“love mr. timothée chalamet and cannot live without him.”

“hate mr. timothée chalamet and definitely can live without him because he sucks.”

“i don’t recall that being what i said?”

“oh, really? tough luck.” you teased.

“i’m falling again, i’m falling again, i’m falling.”

usersixteen u sound so gOOD BABY

userseventeen i wasn’t even in the relationship and i’m about to cry

usereighteen can u- make a song with harry though-

“you said you cared, but i never knew, before i heard your lyrics, i didn’t even have a clue.”

“hey, y/n?” timothée muttered. he wasn’t sure if you were alseep or not since you were sprawled out on his chest and clinging to him. he couldn’t see if your eyes were open until you lifted you head up so it was face to face with his. “hm?” you asked.

“you know i care about you, right?”

“pfft, of course not.” even in your sleepy state, you still made jokes with him.

timothée almost groaned at your words, “i’m serious, okay?”

“i know, i know. i care about you too.” you laid your head back on chest and fell asleep comfortably in his arms. you slept great especially knowing that you were cared for.

“now everytime somebody says your name, i remember the day where i ran out of reasons to stay.”

“you don’t think this is working out?” you asked, your voice was low. you didn’t want this conversation to be happening. why couldn’t you just go back to before? where everything was good. you were happy.

timothée shook his head, not even bothering to look you in the eyes.

“so, that’s it?” you asked with a bitter laugh. “it’s over that quick. you’re not even fighting for us! shows how much this really meant to you.”

“oh, cmon on, y/n. we both knew that this was gonna fall apart when it started. we don’t work and that’s all.”

“we both knew? or just you?”

“what am i now? what am i now? don’t wanna cry ‘cause i can’t stand the sound, i’m falling again, i’m falling again, i’m falling.”

zendaya shut up you sound SO GOOD

arianagrande so proud of u xx

usernineteen completely forgot she was friends with them-

“what if i’m down? what if i’m out? what if you’re someone i can’t live without? i’m falling again, i’m falling again, i’m falling.”

usertwenty everyone appreciate this talented queen

usertwentyone this is where my favorite part comes up, everyone shut uP

usertwentytwo can i be u pls

“can i do this alone without ever needing you again?”

“admit you need me and i’ll help you.” timothée said, teasing you which he had been doing for the last ten minutes.

“this would be fine if i had subtitles but you won’t give me the damn remote.” you huffed. the movie was fully in french which you couldn’t understand. timothée didn’t want to turn on the subtitles since you refused to let him teach you french.

“admit it and the remote is all yours.”

“i need you because without you, i would have a very fun life without having to worry about knowing french.” you fired which only made timothée roll his eyes.

“no remote for y/n.” he said, turning back to the movie leaving you to whine about it.

“what am i now? what am i now? what will i do now that you’re not around? i’m falling again, i’m falling again, i’m falling”

you had never been so unproductive and bored in your life. that was something he was amazing at - encouraging and motivating you to do your best and take on the day no matter how juch you didn’t want to. now that he wasn’t here, there hardly felt like you had anohter reason to do said things. you were alone twenty four seven.

“what if i’m down? what if i’m out? maybe you’re someone i won’t talk about, i’m falling again, i’m falling again, i’m falling.”

your thoughts wandered back to all of the comments you neglected to answer. you didn’t want to talk about him and you were he didn’t want to talk about you. you finished, ending the song before turning back to your phone. you scrolled through the comments, seeing all the ones you missed while playing. “thank you z! and i love you, ari.” you said with a laugh.

usertwentythree when i see him, it’s on sight

usertwentyfour anyways u sounded so gOOD AND IM SO PROUD OF U!!

your heart warmed at the sweet comment, your face immediately heating up. “look, now i’m blushing. thank you lovely!”

harrystyles you sounded better than me

harrystyles think it’s your song now

usertwentyfive her and harry’s friendship >>

“miss you, harold!” you exclaimed. “but, i think i’m gonna end this. thank you all for liking it.” you said and ended the live.

the next morning your phone was blowing up. screenrecordings and videos of you singing were everywhere. there were even articles considering it your way of saying that you and timothée broke up. people on twitter were tweeting at you, mainly nice things which is what you only cared about.

your friends were blowing up your texts messages, screaming how proud they were of you. you were almost to the point of tears until you saw one message in particular.

my angel boy: hey

[appreciatingtokrev]

hey hi hello i am back with weird rambling.

yesterday i was going through the hankisa (hanma x kisaki) tag because why not and i noticed that quite a few people like to draw kisaki in ’fem’ clothes. nothing wrong with that, not at all!! but have you ever considered hanma cross-dressing?? bc every time i look at him there’s just ’he cross-dresses he cross-dresses he cross-dresses he cr’ in my brain and like. yes?? i want some cross-dressing hanma pls. i know he would absoluetly rock a pair of heels and a black satin/silk dress. you are unable to tell me otherwise in any way. if i ever find my artistic talent i will defenitly draw hanma in a dress and heels. maybe i’ll edit him to look like that in the meantime..

also, i feel like he doesn’t really give too many fucks about his gender. yk, he is, and he does whatever tf he wants, and if somebody doesn’t agree with that he’ll punch them. he defenitly questioned his gender before but he just doesn’t really care how people see him, and he doesn’t really care about his pronouns either. would somebody randomly start using she/her for him and call him a girl, he would simply shrug and be like ’ok.’

[army-of-mai-lovers]

ATLA fic recs pt 3!

part 1 part 2 (again, consider this a re-rec of everything I recced in those parts, those were all brilliant fics! I have really good taste y’all) 

This is for Spotlight Saturday (which I didn’t even know was a thing oh my goodness that’s so cool) and also bc I passed two milestones since making the last one of these! thank you! I don’t know why you’re here but I’m so glad you are! <3 <3 <3 <3 also, a gentle reminder that I love so, so many more fics than appear on these lists, and there are even more fics that I’m simply not exposed to. if you want to send me your work or the work of people you really like, please do so! (G or T only, please)

1. Hooked by @listless-brainrot I know List writes fic specifically to cause me pain but I cannot tell you how much serotonin I got when I found out during the Great Jetru Summer Storm of 2020 that somebody had a) already made content and b) that content was literally incredible. Like not only does List have impeccable taste and an impressive amount of patience he’s also a really good writer??? To be perfectly honest I sometimes turn my brain off a little when I read fic, but List makes me sit up and pay attention to his writing and the way he’s writing. I think the framing device here with Haru telling this story to the gaang at the Western Air Temple is so interesting (and it makes me so scared list dude please tell me that doesn’t mean what I think it means you can’t-) and Jet and Haru’s burgeoning friendship/relationship? has been handled with such care and with such depth. I am absolutely obsessed with how he characterizes Haru in particular. Haru, being such a minor character, normally doesn’t get any kind of characterization, but List really said not only is Haru going to be the pov character of this fic, I am going to create an environment that gives him so much nuance. We really have no choice to stan. 

2. and the stars, they too, tell of spring by @katarahairloopies when I first read this fic I went absolutely feral, as I am wont to do with Kit’s fics and with yueki content in general. It’s just so personal. And like not in the queer eye meme way (although,,,,yes) but to me it’s very clear that the author has spent time in the situation they’re describing, in one way or another, and took a lot of care in rendering that situation to the absolute fullest of their ability. It’s one of those fics that has just stayed with me even though I read it a while ago, like I can still picture the situation, the way they described it, the way I felt reading it. Simply iconic. Simply iconic. I wish every atla fic writer would have the kind of care and patience with Yue and Suki’s characters in their long af fics that Kit does in a really short and pointed piece of work. 

3. i like my girls just like i like my honey by @lazypigeon I am....obsessed with this???? I love it??? It is totally gorgeous. I’m a sucker for ship fics that also explore friendships and the whole friendship between Sokka and Yue was just so queer and so utterly perfect. The jokes about their neighbors thinking they were married...the background zukka...the dresses....I loved it all so much. It really brought a smile to my face to read some fluff about two friends going outside to hang out with one another, like can you imagine??? wild. And then we meet Suki who is a farmer at the farmer’s market that Sokka and Yue go to and y’all pls tell me why farmer’s market aus aren’t a bigger thing because the idea of Suki being a farmer and asking Yue to go sample strawberries with her was just???? so cute????? like go off that’s absolutely iconic again we have no choice but to stan! And Sokka was absolutely hilarious when he was trying to wingman for Yue it was so funny and cute. also bonus for the title it was simply *chef’s kiss*

4. the anchor by @firelordemai one of my fave Maiko fics to date. Both POVs were on point but there was just something extra about that Mai POV it was gripping. I could not tear my eyes away from the screen reading this. I love love loved so much how the rock stood for their love for one another and how Zuko kept it, the whole way through, just utter and complete perfection I’m getting emotional just thinking about it oh my goodness. Legit it’s been a minute since I read the fic I’m just sitting here thinking about the use of language and how their relationship progressed and I am crying!!! I am crying!!! just. the talent. the talent! your fave could never! I am just obsessed with how the author chronicled them growing up and the challenges they faced as teenagers and the way they were driven apart and came back together again and my heart was on the floor in pieces when Zuko left it was just. oh my goodness. read this. 

5. time for the moon night by @kahtara ok storytime: when that ask game where you tell the author your favorite fic of theirs went around I hit up Joey and said that it was between laughter lines (which I have recced before peep part 2) and icarus, point to the sun and that I was planning on reading time for moon night but I just didn’t know if I had the emotional strength to do it and they said it’s less sad than laughter lines so I was like all right chill I’ll read it and NO, NO IT WAS NOT LESS SAD THAN LAUGHTER LINES, IT WAS, PERHAPS, MORE SAD THAN LAUGHTER LINES. in all seriousness, time for the moon night is my new favorite fic of theirs. the way they write yukka in general is just so full of nuance and emotion, they really flesh out both Sokka and Yue’s characters so well and in such a careful and precise manner and I really love it. The way time is bent throughout this whole fic is just so amazing. this kind of gorgeous, thoughtful writing that isn’t shy to really get at the depths is the reason I love fanfiction. this is why I care! ao3 is FREE. and yet you can get writing of that quality and substance?????? i’m floored honestly. 

6. if you ran away (come back home) by @shrinkthisviolet I want to spotlight one line in particular. “She wondered how long it would take him to notice the weak spot on the dummy’s left side.” That is so Mai. That is so Mai. The author did such a wonderful job capturing Mai’s situation and her perspective on it, but that line prepared me for an absolutely wonderful character study of Mai and look into her situation before and after the Agni Kai. I’m honestly so floored at how the author was able to portray such an intimate character study that so in character and so well thought out. Mai stans, come get y’alls juice. This one is also really sad and I cried a little (me crying at ATLA fanfiction is exactly as common of an occurrence as you think it is.) What was particularly heartbreaking to me was the way that the author showed how, even as a kid, Mai was driven to suppress her feelings and play to her best political interests. She’s just a kid! She’s just a little baby!!!!!!! I’m heartbroken, and I’m at a loss for words, quite frankly. I want Mai to have the whole world. gosh anyway this author is so incredible and I’m so so excited to read more of her work, because this was just stunning and deserves an incredible amount of praise. 

[blake-belladonna-defence-force]

beets

salmon

mint

bloobrry

tomato

Also, I would like to ask your opinion about this particular situation that asoles my soul

My friends have been telling me I should write poetry or fanfics but I do not consider myself a person with such talent and skill

I am just a simple commoner with a simple life, but yet, these criticisms have not left my mind since

You do not have to answer me and I will not take it personally, be mad or do anything that might be perceived as bad or toxic

I'm simply asking for you to give me your opinion, that is yours to give or not

- Kitty anon

Beets: 1 homoerotic sword chin little to-go pls

Salmon: [coughs] gAy

Mint: [gives you the biggest hug]

Blooberry: I’d kill everyone in this room and then myself for you

Tomato: let’s commit arson

Aw! You’re sweet! But let’s not do any of the dying or killing, yeah? xD

As for your question.... well... here’s the thing... I don’t see myself as skilled or talented either. I really, really don’t! To me... I’m just a gay-ass nerd writing gay-ass mediocre shit. But to others... they really like what I put out! My friends compliment my work, even the parts that I hate! It blows my mind because I look at my work and I begin to doubt myself.

We are our own worst critics, my friend. We often see what we create as worse than it actually is... because we are not our own target audience.

Let me put it to you the same way my friend once did;

You are a baker of cakes. Maybe you’re the baker of some very specific types of cakes. Maybe you don’t personally like those cakes. Maybe you want something fancier. That’s okay. You don’t have to like your cakes... but know that there’s somebody out there that’s always going to come back for seconds, thirds and even fourths because your cakes are their favourite. You may not like them and may see them as boring or bland... but to somebody else? They’re the best things in the entire world and they’ll always want more.

So... why not bake all of the cakes that you want? There’s always going to be people that won’t like them... but there’s also going to be people that’ll love them. If you enjoy baking cakes... What’s it really matter if they’re good or bad? Just have fun, y’know?

Plus... here’s a little secret; in order to be good at something... you have to give yourself permission to suck at it first. None of us are born good at what we do, we just have this... innate nature towards certain things. We practice and we grow and we learn. But you’ll never get any better if you don’t do the thing.

So if you think you suck at writing and want to get better? Well... you gotta actually write to get better. Practice makes perfect after all!

The real question you need to ask yourself is this;

Do you want to write?

[seijorhi]

asks :))

i’m bad at answering things :)) whoops.

ughhhh your writing is actually immaculate, you know?? like not only are your scenarios always hot and well characterized, but the writing itself is so. on. point. like the grammar/word choice/sentence structure and variety and i hate to sound like a english teacher but when an x reader does all that right... it just hits different idkkk - @gingersnaaps​

HI I LOVE YOU THIS IS SUPER FUCKING SWEET <33

Ok but imagine how awkward it is to be shoved into that room with the rest of Seijoh mannn what was the conversation lol

very, very awkward. but considering the wide eyed, confused and slightly terrified look on the reader’s face and how fucking pissed off mad dog was, it wasn’t too hard for them to connect the dots lmao.

Rhi ill be honest, all day i have thought about your kyoutani taking me home afterwards and trying to help me feel better with all the bruises i know he left and then judt fast forwarding to me being his perfect wife that adores him with her whole being so, thank you <3

i mean... yeah. if that’s the scenario/ending you wanna imagine go for it bby! haha, but thank you!

FIRST OFFFF your kyoutani fic is *chef’s kiss* i swear you never miss. now i didn’t fuck with that tennis ball mfer before, but after reading that fic— whewww officially a kyoutani simp

and second. what’s that drabble/teaser of the mc being “stuck between her husband oikawa, iwa, and a hungry young kageyama with something to prove”?? somebody pls provide the link👀

i can’t find it :(( but tbh it was like two sentences from memory, you’re not missing out on much. but yeah, kyoutani supremacy!

Omg thank you for writing Rabid!

I love Kyoutani and I feel like he’s super underrated especially in the fanfic part of the Haikyuu fandom. You wrote a masterpiece, it was wonderful! 🥺💕

You made me love Kyoutani more 😎

ahh thank you, nonnie!! kyoutani needs more love <33

whaaaa can we get the link to that drabble with oikawa, iwa, and kags pls?🥺

it’s not an actual drabble, more just me rambling and bby i tried to find it but i couldn’t :(( sorry!!

poly seijoh yakuza.......... those words have sparked such a strong emotion in me thank you

it’s just very sexy y’know?

You’re just so talented and I hope u really know that and don’t just accept compliments but internalize them because holy fuck your writing is amazing every time even for characters I’ve never cared for in the past

dear nonnie, you now have my heart. please be gentle w it 🥺

Hdjejehehdjdh I'm living and dying for the soulmate Au's that you have. Just thank you so much for the delicious food!

ahh thank you, bby!! glad you like em :))

Heyy :3 I just read your Kuroo Story "Gift wrapped" (I love it!) and i wanted to ask if there is going to be a fourth part because there still are some open questions (like what bokuto did to our poor reader and I wanna see Kuroos reaction to it! *^*). But yeah, I love your writings and I can’t wait to read more of them :)

you want a part 4?? from me?? who has to be bullied into writing part 2′s?? lmao sorry to disappoint bby but i don’t think i’m gonna write more for that fic, even if it is one of my faves. but i’m glad you liked it!!

Hey rhi!! Hope you’re doing well🌹🌹 would you ever consider doing a alternate POV for Like Nobody Else? I’m dying to know the details of what iawioi were thinking and what thoughts were running through their head as they slowly piece together that y/n is their soulmate 🥺🤩🤩 I love reading from the yandere pov it gives me butterflies 🦋✨ and ofc your writing gives me butterflies as well 🦋

have i thought about it? yes. did i try to write a lil something for you? also yes but it was bad and so i didn’t because i don’t wanna throw crap writing up onto my page for the sake of it. maybe one day? it wouldn’t be a full fic if anything just maybe a little drabble

Always and Inescapable are too much for my heart to take but I love it 💯 do you have a tag list? If so may I be added?

i do not because tag lists take forever, half the time they don’t work and usually i’m posting barely awake at 3am in the morning so it’s not a fun experience, sorry. but thank you!!

[ambitcxious-a]

* ABBEY LEE KERSHAW, FEMALE + SHE/HER  | you know ADELAIDE MONTSERRAT, right? they’re 27, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, TWO YEARS? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to EVE BY KAT CUNNING like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole FAWN-EYED, BOWED LEGS,  EXPENSIVE CHAMPAGNE thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is OCTOBER & 30TH, so they’re a SCORPIO, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( lenny, 24, est+2, she/her )

tw: depression, eating / psychological disorders, animal abuse, drugs

ABOUT.

name: adelaide montserrat

nickname: addie

age: 27

pronouns: she/her

occupation: socialite, philanthropist, prodigy ballerina

gender: cis female

sexuality: bisexual

pinterest

The Montserrat established themselves in Barcelona, Spain, over millennia ago,  known as fierce leaders and ruthless business men, quick to make a name for themselves the trading and exporting business,  while the women in the bloodline were promptly pushed aside from books and history, hiding somewhere between a stove and their husband’s fists.  

Adelaide Montserrat was different, that’s what everybody thought - she was graceful, even as a child, she didn’t cry, even as a toddler, and she never ached for her mother’s arms, even as an infant. An early bloomer of exceptional talent, she could dance as soon as she could walk. And yet Adelaide was never one to develop long-lasting or intimate relationships with her peers --- people never seemed to be comfortable sitting with her for long.  Maybe it was because there was never a girl there to begin with, and intimacy betrayed the act:  there was no child,  only a pale, wide-eyed zombie, always hungry,  always empty. 

If you dared to pry beyond the red curtains, you’d not find the delicate creature strangers saw twirling on the stage, but the bottomless edge of an abyss, waiting to swallow you whole as it looked back with smiling teeth. Little Addie, once a girl with pink tutus and ballerina shoes, was never one to be meddled with - while she could easily captivate the hearts of her peers and teachers with red cheeks and a clever tongue, there was nothing warm or kind about the little girl whose parents held so close she nearly choked to death.

Adelaide was the product of a one night stand and poor lack of judgement, or so her mother liked to recount. Her father — whomever he was, was a married man with a lot to lose, and her mother might not have known much — but she knew alimony payments would beat whatever he was willing to offer her in order to get rid of Adelaide. So, she kept the baby, and even then --- she was unbearable.  Adelaide kicked, day and night, as soon as her legs could muster, like she couldn’t stand to be trapped in the womb a moment longer.

They were living largely, manors and pools and cocktails, while Addie grew up receiving the best education money could buy, alternating between hunting and horseback riding on weekends, and training classical instruments such as the cello and piano in her spare time. Being praised for her dedication and skill, for some time, she indulged the idea of becoming a professional pianist, if only to please her parents, but the idea was soon took a backseat in her mind when she discovered just how good she was at ballet.

Adelaide had always been more of a shiny trophy to flaunt at parties rather than daughter or grandchild to dot upon, so by the time she was 13 her family was quite happy to ship her to Paris, if it meant she would enroll in the prestigious Paris Opera Ballet School and make a name for herself. She’d still come home to visit on holidays, that was until her mother moved to New York in order to appease bachelor number three: CEO of Belmont Entertainment Industries (BEI), one of the largest record labels in the U.S, with a side of illegal activities they didn’t really care to discuss at dinner.

It didn’t take long for Addie to make an impression, she was dedicated — hungrier than the other girls, always willing to push a little further, go a little deeper, die a little more. All of the shouting, the groping, the self-hatred, she never broke. Had it been not for her ego and pride, she would’ve been flawless. You’d assume being the young and on the spotlight meant competing for attention - but she never competed. She never even considered it a competition. She won, plain and simple. You see, Adelaide didn’t lose, because she tailored the game to her whims and batted her heavy set of lashes to make it seem fair. And if she did lose - the game be damned; she’d destroy it and any evidence of her failure. She didn’t want to be daughter, or something for men to gawk at, or a pretty glittered thing for little girls to worship. She wanted to be something else. Anything other than this empty shell, dripping with self-loathing , cloaked in a veil of perfectionism. Something that wasn’t rammed into this golden mold before she even took her very first breath.

Fueled by her own insecurities and desire to obtain perfection, paired with the crowd of rich kids that were offered to her as friends growing up, it didn’t take for things to escalate; by the age of only fourteen, drugs, alcohol and kicking each other in the stomach while crouching over the toilet was considered as an act of solidarity. All that deep-rooted self-hatred had to spill someway, somehow, and what are friends for if not offer you relief from the agony of routine?  

It was easier to strap on those old ballerina shoes and put on a show until her toes were bleeding, than to try and show them what was behind the curtains. People don’t want to know what’s behind the curtain — they think they do, until they see it. To live in blissful ignorance is a gift, one she was denied. And all jewelry in the world, all praise, all money and countless designer bags she accumulated over the years could never fill up that gaping hole, that detachment she felt towards the outside world and inability to connect with things and people - even those supposedly closest to her.

With age, Addie learned how to put on a show, be it at home or on a stage; that’s the magic of a ballerina, to empty yourself of that hatred, all that pain, all that ugliness and fill yourself with stories other than your own -  while whatever had been good and soft rots inside you .

And while she made a name for herself, starring role in all the big plays, working with the best and only the best, the tabloids would instiguate: who is Adelaide Montserrat? The reincarnation of the Virgin Mary to some, the dutiful daughter to others, is she a saving angel or a spoiled heir?  She used to laugh, like it was a game - like the answer wasn’t there at all . Maybe what she truly was, was a game of smoking mirrors - a fragmented image, bouncing from broken piece to broken piece, scattered into so many tiny, pretty pieces, that when she looks into a it, the reflection that stares back is unrecognizable.

Adelaide was never their perfect little doll, tied to strings, sitting still waiting to be manuevered . For some time she had watched, prowling quietly in the shadows, observing, learning. She found distraction and excitement in the shadows, drugs, married men, booze, pills - and when those didn’t cut it, she dug a little deeper.

So the child prodigy suddenly moves back to the home, with a ring on her finger and a skeleton on her closet,  all to   shield   from the rising scandal and nonsensical, if you were to ask, accusations of pushing a fellow ballerina down a flight of stairs. Alas, the show must go on, and Adelaide had no plans to stay out of the spotlight for long, or take the fault for somebody else’s imbalance. With some reluctance, she agreed to lay low, but just for how long she’d able to tolerate it, that was anyone’s guess.

Parents often say kids will “grow out of it”; their fits of rage, their apathy towards other children, their unwillingness to share, their manipulative, spoiled ways of obtaining the things they want- but Addie never did. Somewhere inside there’s still that little girl who’d rather break her toys in half than to share it with other kids. Who’d bump into other little girls at school to watch them fall, and tell the nurse they tripped. The little girl who’ll sit in an empty throne, all alone, built with the bones of the people she once claimed to love.

here’s some wc ideas i thought might be cool, but ofc feel free to come brainstorm!!

husband  - it was a marriage of opportunity rather than love, at least for adelaide - a way to deflect attention, however how he feels is completely up to you. she’s manipulative and charming, but can also be extremely cruel if even mildly contradicted

bookclub ( 0/5 ) - just women she hangs out with while trying to fit in and “have ties with the community”. she usually sucks at bonding and sharing, so this could make for some interesting dynamics

lover - adelaide switches it up every couple months, but maybe she has a soft spot for them? maybe they’re also in a relationship? maybe it’s all fucked up and adelaide likes to be nasty, what the fuck else is new

ex - lover - fed up with adelaide? me too. join the club. 

childhood friend - i feel like she might’ve permanently scarred this person for life by ( animal abuse tw ) killing a bird in front of them or something. adelaide was truly a fucking... terror as a child, and i doubt she was a good friend, bc she still isn’t

prodigy that she’s taken under her wings - maybe a young person who loves ballet that she decided to mentor out of the kindness of her heart? *coughs boredom coughs*

drug dealer - probably has a crush on them bc they indulge her bad habits ngl

idk man giv e me   s t u f f  !!!

also romantic connections are open to men and women pls. the only straight she is is a straight up bitch. 

[neocityarchive]

dear dream (ldh) | part 1

word count: 2.8k

warnings: language

chapter summary: Horrible as it may sound, but it seemed as if you were starting to forget what it was like to love him.

a/n: so there’s a lot of narration in the beginning but pls be patient :> ajdaskl also please let me know what you think. thank u, love u.

prev | next | masterlist

You were starting to forget. It’s been eight months after Donghyuck left for training and you were starting to forget everything.

You were starting to forget how his voice sounded on the phone at night, tired and hoarse after a long day but still managing to say sweet things subtly hidden under his teases and cheeky remarks. You were starting to forget how his lips felt on yours, on your cheeks, on your temples, at the top of you head… on your neck. You were starting to forget how his slim fingers fit in the spaces between yours and how his thumb rubs against the back of your hand out of habit. Horrible as it may sound, but it seemed as if you were starting to forget what it was like to love him.

It’s ironic, though. It seemed too soon considering how you were like the first few weeks. Even when he left, he was everywhere. The two of you didn’t break up, with the promise of seeing each other again, the promise of him coming back to you. But it still felt like that… maybe worse. He was gone but you could see him in every store you used to drag him to. You could hear him in every song, even the shitty ones with repetitive riffs and lyrics. He loves random dancing to those. Almost every night, he would appear in your dreams, either as flashbacks or as random scenes.

That is until it started to fade. Your mind that was once filled with Donghyuck has slowly been filled with a lot of something elses.

Things changed faster than you expected them to. You were still on the same job at the bookstore with Taeil who has been promoted to manager. But you went to college where you met a senior who also happened to be your upstairs neighbor. His name is Doyoung. You endorsed him to a job at the bookstore and now you��re colleagues. Both he and Taeil are the closest friends you have at the moment.

Your parents were now retired after securing your future. They sold the house, moved to a smaller place in Busan, and started a barbecue business there.  You found a nice starter apartment and started drafting your book once again, but getting nowhere.

And in all those changes, the one person who you’ve always imagined would walk every step of the way with you weren't there.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he said that day. You never understood that statement. It didn’t really make sense no matter how much you thought about it, but it’s the one thing that repetitively plays on your mind. For some reason, it always gave you hope and a weird longing for tomorrow. But as days passed, you realized it really wasn’t enough.

Three months after Hyuck left and the dreams became lesser. You have already opened nine out of twelve of his letters, most of it was because you just wanted to experience his thoughts again. You miss him, but the new environment made it easier to get him off your mind every once in a while.

Six months, the dreams were rare. You missed him more than ever. There was one night when you were alone in your apartment, feeling shitty because you’re not making any progress on a report that was due the next day. You knew if he was there, he’d motivate you to work harder. You knew if he was there, it would all be different. But he wasn’t. So you opened the last letter.

“Read… when you’re mad or upset that I’m not there,” you read out loud. “As if this is going to change anything.”

It didn’t. He still wasn’t there. You drafted a reply, just wanting to let it out of your system. After reading what you wrote, you hated yourself for it. You crumpled the paper and threw it in your drawer, not having the heart to toss it into the garbage itself.

And by the eighth month… the dreams were reduced to none. You almost didn’t notice it, until one night your neighbor was watching the TV too loud. You knew it was his voice that was singing even through the thin walls. You’d recognize it anywhere. You realized you haven’t thought about your boyfriend much lately. It has gotten to the point where you begin to wonder whether it is still right to call him your boyfriend anymore.

You cried that night, feeling guilty. The aching in your chest forced you to open that letter again, the one you’ve read the most: read… when you miss me.

Your eyes scanned the words but you’ve already memorized it by heart.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” you read, muttering to yourself, and before you could stop your tongue, you said, “Bullshit.”

You scribbled on a notepad on your desk: It’s been 8 months since the last time… I’m getting tired. Are we still… us?

Seeing as you thought you’ve forgotten, you were surprised to dream about him again for the first time in a while. It was about the day he told you he was leaving. You still remember the barrage of emotions you felt right then. Those same emotions mirrored themselves in your chest that night, leading to tearstained pillow cases.

“Just… don’t forget about me while you’re there.” You choked down a sob. “Promise me.”

“I promise. I’ll be back before you know it.”

You tossed and turned in your sheets. Bzzt, bzzt, bzzt!

You groaned, your hands desperately looking for your phone somewhere on your bed to turn off the goddamn alarm.

You sighed to yourself, frowning at the sensation of the wet pillow on your cheek. “Fuck my life. It’s too early to be sad.”

You forced your eyes open to check for any notifs on your phone. It was just a bunch of emails from your professors and a few texts from your mom. But at the bottom of the list, received at 2:01 AM today… followed by 9 other tabs.

You blinked and then pinched yourself, trying to see if you were still dreaming. But you weren’t. It’s really there. With a deep breath and a fluttering heart, you tapped on the notification, watching it expand.

hyuckie: y/n!!!

hyuckie: i cant believe im saying this but..

hyuckie: i hope your habits are as bad as i remember :(

hyuckie: please be awake?

hyuckie: i really wanna talk to you, i miss you so much!!  ㅠㅠㅠㅠ

hyuckie: but i guess you’re asleep now

hyuckie: which is good!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hyuckie: so i’ll talk to you in the morning?

hyuckie: goodnight :>>

You sat up, reading and re-reading the texts. It didn’t seem real. Was it...? Is this some kind of joke fate was playing on you? After almost a month of barely thinking about him, Donghyuck once again let his existence known.

You gulped, the guilt almost eating you inside as your fingers found their way to your keypad.

You: hyuck…?

You: is this real???? are you back??

You waited five minutes. There was no reply. The small hope that bubbled in your chest when you saw his texts dissipated almost immediately. Maybe you just didn’t want to be fooled that easily or maybe you were getting tired of holding onto something that hasn’t really been sitting fully within your reach for so long.

Still, throughout the day, you checked your phone more than you usually do. Even while crossing the pedestrian. Even when you were in a lecture. Even while walking in the hallway. Even when you were manning the cashier at work. You checked your phone too much that it annoyed those who were watching.

“Y/N, stop it. You’re being stupid,” Doyoung said after he returned from a round of stacking books. He has a habit of saying things straight to people’s faces. Usually, it’s a good thing, but it’s also very annoying.

You looked up, consciously putting your phone back in your pocket with a sigh.

“He’s still probably busy. I’m sure he just had, like, a night off and decided to text you.” He shrugged. “His agency don’t really give their artists breaks that much, especially since he just debuted.”

Doyoung sometimes works in the same agency as Hyuck. He’s always getting hired by people here and there to sing demos or background vocals. Even when you’ve only really heard him sing under his breath, it’s not hard for you to say he’s talented. Also, he gives you scoop on what’s happening inside Hyuck’s agency. They’ve met a lot. But as a favor, you made Doyoung promise not to tell Hyuck that you know each other.

Maybe it sounds wrong, but you weren’t really spying on your boyfriend. Besides, Doyoung is almost useless when it comes to updating you about Hyuck. All he ever tells you are his schedules, but that’s not what you wanted to know. Whenever you talk about him, it always goes something like

“How’s he doing?”

“He seemed okay.”

“Does he talk about me sometimes?”

“No, but we didn’t really talk much. He and his friends scare me.”

You ran a hand through your hair in frustration. Your mind was a mess. You don’t know what to feel about Hyuck finally reaching out to you, and for some reason, you wanted to explain what made him do it even if the explanation sounded ridiculous.

“He decided to text me at 2 in the morning, after eight months of nothing,” you said, glaring at him. “It doesn’t make sense. Somebody probably just played a prank on him.”

“By texting you?” Doyoung snorted.

You shrugged. “Why not?”

“That’s what won’t make sense,” he muttered.

“Nothing makes sense.” You sighed.

“And yet you check your phone every two minutes just in case he replied.” He shook his head. “Again, you’re being stupid.”

You were just thinking of a retort when a customer came up to the counter and asked if you had anything available on astrology. Doyoung only smiled at her politely but offered no answer.

“Yes, ma’am. You’ll find them on the last aisle.” You smiled at the lady. When she was gone, you turned back to your friend who was busy scanning some magazine he picked up. “I’m not being stupid.”

Doyoung snorted. “First of all, lame comeback. Second, yes, you are. You’re going back and forth between ‘oh I miss my boyfriend’ and ‘I don’t even know if I care anymore.’ And you’ve been going at it for months, Y/N! Make up your mind. You have to realize this whole situation is unfair to you. Third, you worry too much. Has he even seen your text yet?”

You frowned. You hate it when Doyoung is right, which is most of the time. It’s unfair that he’s always the one who makes sense. It’s worse because he tells you things you don’t want to hear but definitely should. You almost wish Taeil was here. Doyoung seems to be more reserved around him, though you’re not really sure why.

“He hasn’t,” you replied weakly. “But just to be sure…” You whipped your phone out again.

Doyoung groaned loudly, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. “And here we have an idiot,” he grumbled. “God, Y/N. Give yourself a break.”

You just rolled your eyes, continuing to navigate your phone until you’ve reached your message thread with Hyuck. Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

Read 8:41 PM

“He’s seen it,” you muttered, mostly to yourself. But Doyoung heard it, too. Even he couldn’t hide his surprise.

“He has?” He leaned over to look. “Why isn’t he replying then? It’s been a minute.”

“Baby steps. Doyoungie,” you said kindly.

“Oh, so now you're back to being a hopeless romantic?” He sighed. “God, you’re gonna’ give me whiplash. Whatever. Just tidy up the counter. We have to close soon.”

You nodded.

Doyoung went to walk around the store again leaving you alone by yourself. You left your phone unlocked, the screen still displaying Hyuck’s messages as you moved around and did your routine of fixing the counter and the displays in front of it.

You’ve arranged everything and checked the store’s valuables twice, yet there were still no changes on your phone except your battery has gone down 2%.

“He really left me on read,” you muttered to yourself. “Unbelievable.”

With a sigh, you locked your phone, giving up. Maybe Doyoung was right (again). Hyuck probably just finally had a night to himself and decided to talk to you, but you couldn’t reply. Fuck timing. It always ruins everything.

The lady from earlier came to you once again to purchase an astrology book. She smiled and said thanks after you handed the book back in a paper bag. You returned her smile, but inside you were questioning why people even believe in stars. You shrugged. Who am I to talk though? Why do I even believe in a relationship that doesn’t feel like one anymore? you thought to yourself.

As if the universe was determined to prove you wrong, your phone started ringing, vibrating against the wooden surface of the counter. When your eyes landed on the caller ID, you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

“hyuckie”

It took you a moment to react. Before you started dating, Donghyuck changed the setting of his ringtone on your phone to Stay With Me by Chanyeol & Punch. He did it as a joke to tease you, but after getting used to it, you didn’t bother to change it. You regret that decision now. The song played as if you were in some sort of romantic drama, awaiting for the male lead. It seems ridiculous to imagine, but it was enough to build the tension.

You answered the call before the vocals came in.

“...hello?” you said, your voice smaller than usual.

“Y/N?” Hyuck’s voice came through the speakers. You felt your heart clench just by the sound of it. “Hi.”

“Hyuck?” you asked, feeling stupid right after. There was no doubt it was him. But it felt surreal that he’s calling you right now that you just had to make sure.

“Who else, silly?” He laughed. “How’s my baby?”

Your face scrunched as you suppressed a scream. Why am I being like this? It’s just Hyuck, you thought to yourself, trying to calm down. But it’s Hyuck!!! You wanted to cry but you were still in public. A customer might come in at the last minute and see you bawling your eyes out. Even the thought of it makes you want to punch yourself.

“Wait, is it really you?!” You could barely hide the emotions in your voice. It was too much, a heavy mixture of excitement and nostalgia and happiness and for a reason… also sadness.

“Yes, idiot. Where are you?” He sounded a bit breathless. His voice mixed with the faint sound of traffic in the background. He was out, alright, but is he on a break? How long is this phone call going to last?

You looked around, suddenly confused, mind hazy. “I’m… where am I… um, I’m at work. Why? Where are you?”

“You’re still at work? But it’s 9,” he said.

“Yeah, we’re closing soon. Where are you? Are you on a break? Why are you calling now?” You wanted to ask so many questions but they’re all getting jammed in your mind at the moment. It doesn’t even matter since Hyuck isn’t answering any of them.

“Close it now,” he said.

“What?”

“Close the store now.”

“Why? My friend is still arranging the shelves.” You looked around for Doyoung.

“Tell your friend you have to go home,” he said before letting out a breath.

“What? But the keys are with me. Taeil would be mad if it gets lost,” you reasoned. “What are you even—”

“Just tell your friend something important came up.”

“There’s literally nothing going on in my life right now. What important thing would ‘come up?’” You snorted. “Just—”

You heard the bell hanging above the door ring, making you jump on your feet. “Shit. I have to go. We have a customer. I’ll call you, please pick up later. Imissyou,Iloveyou,byebye,” you said as fast as you could, crouching down lower with every word, hoping to hide from the eyes of whoever just came in.

You ended the call, putting the phone back in your pocket, before standing up straight, ready to greet the guest.

“Hi, how may I help…”

“Hi.” The guy smiled, chest heaving slightly, trying to catch his breath.

He was wearing a black jacket over a plain white shirt that was tucked in his jeans. The look was so simple, yet he still looked amazing. Better than your remember. Better than he appears on TV. Something about him was different, you could feel it. He looked different. He was taller and his cheeks were somehow smaller than you remembered. His hair was a different shade of brown than when you last saw. He was still slightly slouched but something about his stance is more powerful. He held himself with more pride now. And rightfully so. But underneath all of those, you could still feel it. That familiarity. That sense of security that no matter how many things have changed, he still is the same Lee Donghyuck. And somehow, despite your doubts and overthinking, you just knew he still is your Lee Donghyuck.

“Hyuck,” you said, voice faltering. You didn’t think it was this easy to have tears pooling in your eyes, but it was. Fuck, you thought. “Hi.”

He let out a chuckle upon seeing your reaction. “To answer your question, I’m your important thing that came up.”

[sexyshakespeare]

bkdk k-pop (BTS) AU: Chapter 2- Half A Spot

It was choreography lessons starting today, and Bakugou was pumped. He was going to kill this session- AND trump any move that that Midoriya fellow had up his sleeve. Izuku Midoriya- maybe he was talented and kind of a genius- or maybe he just got lucky that day at auditions. If they were both competing for the same spot- there’s no way someone like him could win this. 

Katsuki followed his green head across the room as he bowed and smiled at everybody. Does he really think he can gain brownie points by just smiling with his stupid freckles and his pretty face. Like hell. Skill and a powerful aura like his own will definitely take precedence. He can wipe the floor with everyone else in this group.

Izuku.. even the kanji was all wrong- it looked more like a De-ku to him, worthless- just a smiling face. However, through the morning, Deku had kept pace with him, he got his positions right, he wasn’t one step behind or one step ahead of the choreographer. Katsuki wasn’t going to stoop down to that level of considering sabotage to secure his spot- but it looked like the rest of the room was ready to do it. It was lunch time now, and Deku was walking towards him, towel over his neck. Sweaty bastard, coming over to play nice with his rival- the balls on this guy. But Bakugou wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. He would stay stoic, and practically stone faced- no matter how nice he was. “Kacchan right? I saw you dance today for the first time- you’re amazing?? I can’t believe I get to dance with you- it’s great to be able to keep pace with you so far!”, he smiled up at him meekly. It was clear the man meant well, and it was a genuine compliment. Izuku was in fact blown away by the guy. He could see now why the company wanted him, even if he had a temper. He’d be an asset- his stamina, his will power and how he bursts with energy at every jump- Katsuki Bakugou was a force to be reckoned with. “Ka-WHAT??” There goes his plan to stay stone faced. “What the hell did you call me??”, his face went redder by the second. His competition, a grown ass man had just dared to call him ‘chan’, in front of 20 other people, no less. “Oh uhh- Kacchan.. like Katsuki-chan”, Izuku blanched a little seeing his face. “YEAH I HEARD YOU THE FIRST TIME- I’M BAKUGOU SAN TO YOU GOT IT??” He was raging, and he wasn’t entirely sure why. If anybody else had said it, they’d have gotten the cold shoulder and a silent death stare. This man, however, was crossing the line and he deserved an earful for it. Bakugou was redder than a tomato as he sputtered and yelled in his face while the producers and choreographers watched. Deku shrunk visibly, “Right right- Bakuou san! I’m s-sorry- I didn’t mean to upset you- just calm down will you? You look like you’re about to get a heart attack- Don’t get me wrong, you look very young but there’s new statistics coming out every day about younger people getting heart attacks- a-and that’s the last thing I want for you Kach-BAKUGOU SAN”

Katsuki stopped, his mouth wide open. The red on his face didn’t seem to be going away. Piece of shit was concerned for his heart now?? That’s when he noticed the mess he’d caused- everyone was watching the scene, pitying Deku and villainizing him instead no doubt. With a heavy sigh and a hand raised to his forehead, he took a few deep breaths before nodding indignantly. After waiting a bit for the rest to return to their lunches, he turned to the greenet, having cornered him into the wall. Bending down a little to put his face very close to his, something he hadn’t pulled on anyone till his rowdier days in high school, he whispered harshly, “Just- stay out of my damn way- and don’t you dare patronize me- I know your game, and I’m winning this- DEKU-“ His red pupils glinted at him menacingly. He wasn’t here to make friends. Izuku looked up at him, a little terrified at his behaviour. He blinked at him, confused at this response to his friendliness. Guess Kacchan really- really didn’t like him. They were competing for the same spot, but none of his words had been patronizing- he’d meant every one. Could he perhaps, explain that to the explosive blond male bending over him like he’d break his legs any second..? No, he probably shouldn’t even try. His emerald green eyes looked into his for a second before darting away. He held his hands up against the other’s chest in defense. “I understand- I won’t bother you again..”, his voice was solemn as he gave in, not wanting to make matters worse. “Good-“, the blond said in finality and backed away at the touch of his hand. A small wave of embarrassment washed over him at his own behaviour. He really was behaving like a child around him, and he didn’t like it either. Katsuki was still pretty worked up however. “..Deku?”, the other male’s voice sounded questioningly. Without a second’s hesitation the words shout out of his mouth, “Worthless- because that’s what you are-“ Katsuki’s stone face was finally making an appearance. He turned and walked away then, taking a bite out of his sandwich. He was starving, and that’s all he’d managed to get to eat for the day. As he took another bite, he felt himself calming down. He’d been shitty to this Midoriya, but he had to give it his all- he had to get this job, even if it meant intimidating the other guy out of it. Izuku, back where he’d left him, was frowning. The word stuck in his mind- worthless. He’d felt that way for the better part of his life, having to struggle through school, put himself through several jobs and have to be at home to take care of his mother. He had known he was nothing special. But he had kept on believing anyway- that the school dances and the neighborhood crew hadn’t meant nothing. He’d worked hard every damn day of his life, to get what he wants, and he’d kept on believing. Someone like this blond, coming in here and blowing everyone away with his skills- he was a genius, he’d been marvelled at from the get-go and Izuku could see that. But someone like him- perfect in every way- he couldn’t tear down his dream with one word. Izuku would not let him. Kacchan will just have to see for himself, how much value he had, and he would show him for the rest of the week till he himself got picked for the spot. With a look of strong resolve on his face, Izuku joined the group after he finished eating his packed katsudon. The rest of the day went well, Katsuki and Izuku seemed to be competing more now, or so it seemed to the producers. They were both impeccable, and wouldn’t miss a beat. The sweatier and more tired they got, the harder they focused on their movements. As different as they both were from each other, this was how they came together- the same, relentless perseverance and hunger to be better than they last were. That was the last time they spoke to each other for the week. As the days of went on, they each came to the studio, glared at each other from across the room, and followed the instructor’s routine. Then they’d sit very far from each other for lunch, and resume the session after, till evening time. On the very last day of choreography week, the company staff had prepared a closing speech and snacks. Katsuki stood by the table, stuffing cake in his mouth between taking big gulps of water. He clapped and bowed like everybody else when the producer was done speaking his bit. This was it- they’d reveal who wins the spot today. They’d had a week to decide, it was now or never. And sure enough, the head choreographer came by. “Bakugou- we’d like you to stay till after everyone leaves-“, he said quietly with a smile. It was the kind of confident smile you give a winner when breaking the good news. Bakugou practically beamed at the man and nodded gratefully. He even bowed a little and watched him go.   I did it.. I got the job.. He waited for the others to leave, his head swimming with all the things that would change in his life. He’d be able to move to a better apartment, finally- maybe pay off some loans he’d taken. He’d be able to buy a car!? And best of all, he could dance as much as he wanted- no more having to scrape shit off of pans and wait tables for extra cash.

A glowing Bakugou waited and smiled at the producers one by one, who smiled back. The room cleared out slowly but surely, and before he knew it- it was just him standing in front of them. He couldn’t keep it in anymore, so he moved forward to shake their hands, smiling much wider than they’d seen him do so far. He opened his mouth to say the words, when somebody else seemed to beat him to it. “Thank you so much for the opportunity sir- I won’t disappoint you! I can’t believe it!”, his voice sounded loud and clear. Katsuki turned to see motherfucking Deku- beaming and shaking hands with the company officials- even the staff, the lighting and camera crew. What the fuck was happening? 

“What- what’s the meaning of this-“, the blond started. Izuku seemed to notice him then too, and his smile was slowly disappearing. He was confused now, he’d been sure the producer had asked him to stay back, so why was Katsuki Bakugou here with him?? “Uh- is there another round for us to go through?”, the greenet could only think of this explanation, his eyes not leaving the other’s feral gaze. One of the music producers stepped forward with a reassuring smile. She looked at the other officials before continuing, “Well, this season, we were supposed to only have one spot open for hire- we were going to put your talents to use wherever we needed you- maybe groom you further to go solo- but..” She smiled wider and raised her hands, as if in awe. The other man took over then, “But we figured you’re both so good- and so well tuned with each other- we could take you both, make an exception! Our choreographers were very impressed with your form and style-“ The head choreographer continued, “We put our heads together and decided there’s something for the both of you if things go as planned-“ The two rivals stood still, listening to their words. Izuku looked at Katsuki, then looked back at the man. “Well- that’s fine by me, as long as I get the job- I’m happy for.. Bakugou san as well”, he ventured slowly, his eyes trailing back to the blond’s face. Katsuki on the other hand, kept silent. They both get the job? Something was up- this was Big Hit- they had very high selection criteria and you had to be lucky to get an audition slot, let alone get hired by them. He refused to believe another spot had magically been created to accommodate them both. “Well- you do both get the job.. “, the main producer continued, but his tone had changed. He looked visibly wary of saying the next part. “As long as you dance together- we’re thinking of putting you two in a group” The choreographer sipped at his coffee, his eyes darting between the clearly flustered Midoriya, and.. was Bakugou vibrating slightly? Oh dear.. “WHAT? US TOGETHER?? WHAT PART OF US SINGS HARMONY EXACTLY?”, the blond spat out- his finger jerked between Deku and himself. The head producer stepped forward to speak, but before he did, Bakugou yelled yet again directing his words at his competitor this time. “I WILL NOT TAKE HALF A SPOT- I’M TAKING HIS SPOT- DEKU’S SPOT IS MINE- I DESERVE AN ENTIRE SPOT-“ “Katsuki.. this is our final offer- if it’s not what you’re suited to- I’m sorry to say Izuku will be taking the job from you”, the man spoke with a steely gaze fixed on the exploding blond, who now seemed to deflate. “I speak on the behalf of the rest of the company in voicing our honest opinion- you did not make it easy for us to pick you after seeing your lack of cooperative spirit- and your temper”

He sounded even sterner. This was bad, Bakugou had already pushed his luck. “Having said that- the only reason you’re here now is merit- you earned your spot fair and square, our decision was based on us banking hard on your talent and work ethic- but if you do leave now, I think we might just dodge this bullet- save ourselves from dealing with your lack of sportsmanship later on-“ Bakugou stood there, humbled even somewhat humiliated. He bowed his head slightly and spoke in a low voice, “I.. apologize for my behaviour- I am very grateful for the opportunity- of course I will take it-“ That was the truth. He needed this job, even if it meant having to work together with this.. this.. “It’ll be great working with you Bakugou san!” He was beaming right at him, freckles and all.

Izuku wasn’t especially comfortable with the new arrangement, but seeing the blond’s demeanour change just now- it gave him hope. It had been clear to him over the week that Kacchan was a very proud young man- his ego knew no bounds. And yet, in this moment, he was willing to put it behind him for this job- that could only mean that he shared the same passion as him. He wanted this just as much. Katsuki tried to swallow the lump in his throat before letting out a deep breath. He turned to the other, and raised his hand to shake his. “The feeling’s.. mutual..”, he grumbled out the words- giving the distinct impression that the feeling was indeed, not mutual. “Brilliant! Good to see you two getting along- both very talented young men- we expect great things from you- we’ll be preparing to move you in with the other potential members-“ The words seemed to hang in the air, in some distant world from the one Katsuki was in. He stood with his hand clasped in Deku’s, his eyes fixed on his face. He really was smiling at him just now- didn’t this piss him off at all? Having to work together with him? After all the crap he’d said to him?? Izuku’s eyes locked on his. But suddenly they faltered and looked away, a faint blush formed on his cheeks. Fuck me. He’s cute too- goddammit. Bakugou frowned slightly and pulled his hand away from his. If they were going to be in a dance group- he was sure Deku looking like a goddamn bunny rabbit would earn him a higher position. All he could do was look angry- audiences didn’t like that. Big Hit would be training them to make their debut- something big, something flashy. As he turned to face the officials and nodded at the new information, he looked to his right, at his face. His eyes trailed down to his shoulders.. his chest.. his hips. With a little huff, he looked away. They’d be training to dance together- and this pretty, green dude would be taking center stage- of course he would.. with form like that- and a body like that.

As they left for the day with an address to move into, and a new schedule, new contacts to call for help, Midoriya found himself running to catch up to Bakugou in the lift again. He didn’t seem to be in a talking mood. “So.. I guess we’re going to be flatmates too huh- Bakugou san..”, he ventured slowly. His eyes looked over his face for signs he should back off. But there weren’t any. The blond seemed to have resigned himself to behave. “You don’t have to call me that- geez..” “Bakugou sa-?” “YEAH THAT- “, he snapped at him, then calmed down instantly. Guilt was eating away at him. He was supposed to live with the guy being chirpy as fuck like this? The honorifics had to stop. “Look uhh- we got off on the wrong foot last time we talked..”, Katsuki found himself talking to Midoriya’s feet. He couldn’t bear to be looking at his all-forgiving face right now. He’d fucked up, and he should apologize, so he was doing just that. “Just call me Katsuki- and that stuff was out of line- what I said to you about being worth-“ Izuku cut him off just then, with a big smile on his face, “Ah that’s alright- anyway, when you said Deku? It sounded more like ‘I can do it!’ to me- you can still call me that if you want Kacchan-“ The spiky haired blond looked up at him, his jaw dropping to the damn floor as the elevator doors opened. He followed after the zippy little shit as he went to catch his bus. “HEY- NOT THAT- NOT WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT WAS- YOU-“

All Deku responded with was a hand raised in a goodbye, and a smile stretched across his face ear to ear.  Katsuki couldn’t help but smirk at that. He raised his brow at him sitting in the window seat.

I’m not done with you, he texted him on the number he’d given him, then looked up at his face, smug.

A ping sounded, revealing the reply.

You can do whatever you want with me on Monday Kacchan, I’m not going anywhere.

Bakugou’s eyes caught on every word. He felt the corners of his lips go up, as he watched the bus crawl away, taking Deku with it. He looked so damn pleased with himself with his headphones on and his eyes closed.

[percyscourt]

reyna headcanons please !! ♡

IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE PLS FORGIVE ME I FORGOT I HAD THIS

everybody thinks that reyna would love history, due to her leading a decades old camp and all. but she actually strongly detests history, and any of her close friends know why. her favorite school subject when she was in an actual school was always english. she loved reading, escaping her world, if only for a little. her and annabeth bond over this, and can sit in silence for hours reading, though many question how it could possibly be fun.

she takes a break from trying to find a guy/relationship. she's not aromantic, persay, but she just needs time to find out who she is, yknow? her and piper have almost weekly talks about past feelings, why they thought they had to like people, etc. there might even be a little lowkey flirting, but that's for another list

reyna's hidden talent is rollerskating. on circe's island, circe wanted to spice things up a little after a modern demigod told her about the world, which included sonic. the only person that knows besides hylla is nico, but he likes living enough to not tell people.

once every two weeks, reyna will go to chb's stables with hazel while percy translates for them. of course all the horses adore reyna, and once one even followed her back to camp jupiter. (she may or may not have kept it in camp j's stables)

reyna has a big appreciation for minor demigods and their kids, because most people would consider her kind of a minor demigod, yknow? (of course she's powerful, just not many people know of bellona.) she constantly adds to the shrines at camp jupiter and helps annabeth with the cabin deisgns at chb.

the girl is RIPPED. AND CURVY. AND BEAUTIFUL. back on Circe's island, she was sometimes jealous when these skinny, fair-skinned girls waltzed in like models. after becoming praetor though, she began working out so much, and her calves got so muscled and her stomach so toned, she found out she didn't really mind all that much anymore.occasionally she'll wear croptops, too, but only once in a lifetime.

she has really dry humor. like, very. once she went undercover at a mortal school because of a strong demigod aura and somebody happened to introduce her to the office. she hates season 1, her favorite season is season 4. dwight is her favorite because "he's very sensible, he needs to be manager." whilst toby and andy are her least favorites; "toby is like an old, red-haired octavian, and andy is terribly annoying. also like octavian"

she was too young to learn a lot of her culture from her dad, but she knew enough and hylla told her some stuff. she knew how to cook certain dishes and how to do the salsa, but kind of lost that after going to circe's island. she doesn't really like going back to her old house, but she went once, with nico of course, to see if she could find anything helpful or useful. she ended up finding an old book of recipes, half unreadable.

her, piper, hazel and leo have a kind of understanding relationship. they talk about their different cultures, and occassionally nico will pop in to talk about his extremely, blaringly italian lifestyle. they always exchange food for the others to try, even the rest of the seven.

[chrollokin]

i hope this doesn't sound weird (off to a great start i know ksksks) but i saw you were a music major, and i've got a muse who is also a music major, could you tell me some tips in writing a muse that's into music? if this is weird though please feel free to delete it!

of  course  i  wouldn’t  mind  !  if  there’s  anything  i’m  able  to  help  with  and  is  semi  -  knowledgable  about  ,  it’s  music . so  i’m  happy  to  do  so  . obviously  these  are  of  my  own  thoughts  and  experiences  with  taking  music  at  university  ,  and  just  things  that  i’ve  observed  that  sometimes  are  exaggerated  or  understated  when  i’ve  been  in  higher  education  roleplays  where  music  majors  have  been  present  .  i  hope  this  helps  somewhat  ,  anon  !

01. music majors aren’t as eclectic with their music tastes as you probably think they are. just because we have to analyse different pieces and genre types doesn’t mean we enjoy it, it’s just apart of the syllabus we’re currently doing, which means we have no choice. i think to authentically portray a realistic muse, you can’t come out and just say wow they love all types of music because they’re just so in love with the subject !  because it’s just not realistic. for example i really hate baroque era with a passion, and then with modern music i’m not the biggest disco or country lover either. 02. there’s lots of different occupations that people can pursue through music, and usually majors already have their chosen paths in mind when attending university  -  though random opportunities do occur. when you look at music as a whole: there’s so many areas in life that it coincides with, and with people taking hybrid courses instead of just core music ( eg. music and photography, music and english literature, music and art ) , the opportunities are limitless. off of the top of my head, in my class i know an aspiring music teacher, recording engineer, song - writer, singer, conductor, music therapist, music journalist, concertmaster / mistress, opera singer, and a production music writer. sometimes talents are scouted at recitals, recommended through professors or perhaps an external source like a music teacher. big opportunities can occur as music is a pretty wide subject and as aforementioned, with a lot of career prospects - but also remember that there’s a lot of musicians out there who have as much potential as you do , and alike most market’s it’s very over saturated , so this is pretty uncommon.03. it’s okay for your muse to not be a musical prodigy at every instrument , in fact, it’s kind of rare. i think in my uni, the most instruments somebody plays is four, and that’s considered above average. to most universities, being able to play one - two instruments to a high grade is better than playing four instruments at an average level. speaking of levels, your grades pretty much always determine if you’re accepted into a university or not. i don’t know how the us works grade - wise musically, but i had to be grade 8 ( the highest grade you can achieve ) to even apply to all three of my university choices, it takes a lot of gruelling work from a certain age to get up to par, so if your muse is just magically starting to play the piano that rivals some others that have been playing since they were 7.. then i would Reassess that.

04. the voice is an instrument. i don’t think a lot of people take into account that music majors who sing are usually accepted for the fact that they’re really, really good at singing ? ? i don’t feel qualified enough to talk about this, since i don’t sing myself ! however, if i ever apply to a roleplay and see a music major, i never see them acknowledging that singing is their main talent or strength, because they usually pigeonhole that sort of thing with acting majors or people who want to get into broadway, something of that sort.  regardless if your muse wanted to be a singer, the best thing they could pursue is obviously, music !

05. practise is necessary. sometimes this imposes on social requirements. i know all majors require a massive amount of time and dedication spent on them, but some of my friends who are majors in other subjects joke about me coming out for lunch or for a night out, because usually, i’m stuck in my dorm room studying for music theory or practising pieces on musical instruments. some people are incredibly lucky financially, too. they can afford to not have a job perhaps because a relative is paying for their fees, and therefore can relax some days, but for us broke folk ? we don’t have that option. days wherein we don’t have to go into work, a lot of time is spent rehearsing. practising an instrument is pretty much key in getting better, and like a car, if you don’t use it in a while, it’ll ( you’ll ) get rusty. i know it’s not realistic for you to play your muse as somebody who never has a social life, but the stress of a music major’s life definitely a thing to explore because i don’t think it’s done enough. a lot of people think of it as an easier subject than others and play characters accordingly, but just because it’s a more creative subject doesn’t mean it doesn’t stress us tf out  !

06. some musicians take music more seriously than others. kind of ties in with the former point, but if you’ve ever watched the film whiplash, there’s a lot of people out there who have the same mentality as the protagonist in that film. some people love music but get tired or frustrated with it from time to time, others want to be the best at their instrument to join musical legends in their ranks, going above and beyond to reach their goals. sometimes said goals are achievable, sometimes they’re not. people in my class know how to balance practise vs rest, and some people just don’t want to rest at all ! there’s so many different personalities in one subject that realistically, you could portray any sort of muse, i guess drive is something you yourself would be good at questioning pertaining to your character.

07. pls don’t overcomplicate an origin story as to why your muse plays an instrument. 90 percent of my class play instruments because their parents, guardians, whatever got them lessons when they were younger, or taught them themselves if they were musicians too. never have i seen somebody who started music after their grandma’s drug dealing boyfriend robbed their house and only left a guitar behind. of course, muses can develop a talent for it coming out of a tough scenario ( fun fact: more recently music therapy has increased the amount of people taking up musical instruments as a hobby by 10 percent ) and not everyone will be fortunate enough to have parents who can afford to pay for tuition, but as always, just make it realistic !

[inevitablekickline]

your cosplay/rp’s always make me smile, you’re super talented & wonderful so i guess my question is: how does it feel so be so cool?

^^ me being amazed at being called “cool” ^^

this whole ask made me smile, wowie :’)

send me asks!