#anyway I hope that anyone reading enjoys! this was a fun break from studying law and let me stretch my writing muscles a bit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shadowed-yet-vibrant · 4 years ago

Text

Something Was Burning

Izaya x Shizuo

Word Count: 2050

CW: vehicle accident, blood

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

The end was supposed to have dignity. At least, with as much dignity as someone like him could hope to have when he took his last breath. Be it at the end of a gun or beneath the blade of a knife, there was supposed to be someone left for him to smirk at, the fleeting opportunity for one last laugh. The inevitable death was never supposed to be a sign of defeat, but rather the earnest embrace of karma’s overdue hands around his throat.

It wasn’t supposed to end pinned between pieces of crumpled metal, nothing but a seatbelt left to suspend him above a sea of broken glass. Not alone, without an enemy in sight, without any of the intimacy that would come from something as tantalizing as murder. Not an accident that arose without any greater purpose, no motive emerging from deep inside a broken human heart.

But something was burning.

Above all else, Izaya ached. He could hear himself gasping for breath as though he were listening in from a distance, a shaky rattle coming from a bruised chest. The belt across his middle had taken the brunt of the impact, and it was from there the pain radiated outwards, a reminder of how just one piece of fabric had kept him from launching to certain death. His ribs had paid for the small modicum of safety, the pain of mortality left in place of what would have otherwise been blissful nothingness.

Something was burning.

Plastic, melting rubber, and chemicals on the verge of combustion, a caustic mixture which had launched a frontal assault on his tender senses. But there was nowhere for the man to run, and even if he had been able to free himself from the wreckage, he suspected the pain shooting up his right leg may have rendered such an attempt futile regardless.

Izaya craned his neck to look at the car door above him, confirmation that the vehicle had indeed been thrown on its side in the crash. The last thing he had been able to comprehend was the truck speeding into the intersection and making contact with the driver’s side door in a brilliant flash of light. He felt no need to look forward toward the driver: there was no question the man was dead.

However dazed he was from the pain, Izaya could feel his mind struggling to give him a way out, a computational process which had started the moment the car had come to a halt on its right side. Within moments he had calculated how long until the flames would reach him in the back of the cabin, and to place the estimate above mere minutes would be unrealistic.

At the same time he had been running through the options to free himself from the wreckage, and was coming up painfully empty. Though he hadn’t yet put eyes on it, he knew his knife was no longer nestled up against his body. Its familiar weight was gone, a gaping absence in its place. It was the same case with his cell, both small objects having been ejected from his pockets during the cash. Unless he was able to release himself from the seatbelt and heave himself up through the window, he was still damned to burn.

He moved his hands to try and undo the belt, silently cursing Namie for pestering him about it so often that it had become habit. Though he would have surely died without it, in the moment he thought a quick death would have been somewhat more noble than this embarrassment.

It was only when he was fumbling for the belt did he take another look at this right leg, an area from which the pain was only growing more intense with each passing moment. There was little that could bring Izaya shock any more, but his stomach flopped as he took in the sight in full. His limb extended outwards from his hip with a sense of familiarity, but it disappeared into a gnarled hunk of door pressed up against the seat in front of him. The wreckage had him pinned, his leg stuck in a vice that no human feat of human strength could ever pry open.

Were there more time at hand, Izaya would have cursed to the skies. He would have reached forward and attempted to wrench himself free, emerge from the wreck like a hero, brush off help from onlookers who were still shouting in horror. But at the moment the only sound his constrained chest allowed was a short wheeze of laughter, a hollow sound that echoed amidst the deafening white noise filling the vehicle’s cabin.

But before he could close his eyes and embrace the crackling flames rushing towards him, Izaya’s world lurched. His sense of balance, already all but destroyed from the vehicle spinning out of control, once again swung sideways. The sound of crunching metal resounded, and the car slammed into the ground right-side-up with a great rattling of the suspension. Izaya bit his tongue as his leg twisted where it was pinned, instead letting out a grunt as his body was jarred yet again.

As soon as he was certain the car was back on its four wheels Izaya glanced out the window, wondering what force of nature could have turned the car over. And what met him at nearly eye-level was a familiar pair of tinted glasses, resting below angrily furrowed brows and a mop of blond hair.

In normal circumstances, this infuriating view would have taken his breath away in frustration. But at the moment, all he could do was give his enemy a dumbfounded stare, residual shock from the accident taking away all of his usual rage. Izaya could tell that it took the beast a moment to recognize just who he was looking at, expression frozen until those empty eyes widened ever so slightly. It was only then that Izaya found he still had enough strength for a fleeting smirk.

“Izaya,” Shizuo hissed, voice low and husky in anger. That constant state of rage had never abated, even when the man had taken the time to arrive at the scene of an accident and commit a rare act of kindness. The logic of this uncharacteristic assistance was beyond Izaya as he currently stood, so he grimaced and pulled halfheartedly at his leg in the hopes the car’s grip had loosened.

“What are you doing here, you brute?” Izaya asked, trying to buy himself some more time to focus. Now that the car was righted he felt as though there were some better chance at his survival as the flames grew nearer, his back already hot from their closeness. Death was licking at him, along with some distant thread of fear. He knew there was a decent chance that Shizuo would either walk away or speed up the killing process right then and there. Izaya would have preferred a chance to spar with Shizuo properly, rather than face his killer as nothing more than a rat in a cage, but it was still more dignified than succumbing to the chemical-fueled flames.

He could see the thoughts forming in Shizuo’s eyes, their gaze flitting from Izaya’s face to the wreckage of the cars, then back to the flames which had engulfed the rear of the vehicle. By now they were crawling into the far window and lapping at the leather seats, waiting to catch. Another few moments and Izaya knew that his soft collar and cuffs would begin to singe, his face already searing from the encroaching heat.

A scowl overcame Shizuo’s face, and he flashed his teeth in what appeared to be anger. Izaya drew in another short breath, no matter how much it hurt, and returned a smirk in kind. If he was going to be killed here and now, the least he could do was smile in the face of it, piss off that blond-haired menace one last time.

But instead of Shizuo’s arms reaching in through the broken window and making their way to crush Izaya’s neck, they wrapped around the side of the car door. The impact had crushed it inwards, making it impossible to open with merely human strength, but Shizuo was hardly human. Izaya watched in awe and shock as Shizuo secured his fingers into the ridges of the crumpled metal and pulled, grunting slightly as he did so.

That simple action, one which appeared to flow without any excess of effort on Shizuo’s part, resulted in the door slowly peeling away from the body of the car. The metal groaned as the frame was bent and snapped, shifting the entire vehicle with the sheer force required. Shards of glass from the window flew into the cabin, and Izaya looked away just long enough to shield his eyes. Seconds later the catastrophic noise had ended and sunlight streamed in freely, half of the car peeled back as though it were nothing more than a tab on a can of soda.

And it was now that the pain renewed in earnest on Izaya’s leg, and he gave an involuntary grunt as he looked down at it. Now that there was no longer a mass of metal pinning it up against the seat he saw his own flesh split open, his shin crooked and bone bulging beneath the skin as blood dripped from the lacerations.

Keeping a side-eye on Shizuo, who was taking a deep breath and staring into the car, Izaya fumbled with his seatbelt one last time, finally releasing himself from its grip. The fire was around him now, the flames reaching up to kiss him from either side. But the very moment that he was contemplating how to drag himself out of the vehicle without being able to put any weight on his right leg, arms wrapped around his torso, yanking him free from the car in a swift motion that wrenched his body through space.

It was all Izaya could do not to cry out, especially as his right leg bore the consequences of momentum and broken bone ground against broken bone. But he was freed, the smell of fire growing more distant, his limbs all freed from where they had been trapped. And now he was held surprisingly close to Shizuo’s chest, dangling from above the ground ever so slightly, suspended in an unexpected embrace.

He felt Shizuo’s breath hot on his neck, a gentle hiss of exhalation in his ear. And he could feel the gentle brush of hair against his cheek, shifting as he was slowly lowered onto the pavement. Whether it was the shock or pain that made him freeze, Izaya remained motionless as Shizuo laid him somewhat gently on the ground, a few long paces away from the remains of the wreckage. And as the man knelt and put Izaya onto the sidewalk, for just one brief moment, the hot skin of their cheeks collided. It was such an unexpected sensation that Izaya felt his eyes widen involuntarily. The contact ended as suddenly as it had begun, and Shizuo was already pulling away from him before he could react.

The sun framed Shizuo’s face in a way that was almost angelic, darkening his features as Izaya looked up at him, fighting to retain his comprehension through the pain. Unblinking, the man stood to his full height, finally releasing Izaya from his grasp. For a moment Shizuo was silent, expression pensive. Then he opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something, as though there was something on the tip of his tongue he was fighting to get out.

Instead of speaking, however, the man turned his back. He walked away, quickly disappearing from Izaya’s field of vision where he lay on the ground. Now other spectators were rushing forward, their shock wearing off, and the sound of sirens was growing near. Others descended around him, their hands both eager and fearful to touch him, wanting to render aid.

But all Izaya could think of was the brief moment where their cheeks had grazed, the tender way that the all-powerful monster had cradled his broken body. And where their flesh had met, something was burning.

#shizaya #durarara #shizuo heiwajima #izaya orihara #drrr #fanfiction #hey anyway I haven't posted fanfic to tumblr in about 4 years and haven't written any in probably 2 #so here I am back on my bullshit about a show I haven't watched in like forever #shizaya is my otp tbf #these two jerks live rent free in my head ok #anyway I hope that anyone reading enjoys! this was a fun break from studying law and let me stretch my writing muscles a bit #take care and have a good day everyone :)

21 notes · View notes

scripturiends · 4 years ago

Text

stole all the air from my atmosphere

Read on ao3

Summary: Han Joonhwi thinks maybe pulling all-nighters wasn’t so bad after all, even when you’ve practically finished studying ages ago.

Rating: T

Word count: 1,577

Notes: Inspired by a poem by Timothy Joshua. And totally optional, but I recommend listening to this song while reading.

Hey, all. Thanks for waiting patiently for an update. This fic is in response specifically to a request I received here. I know a lot of people have been requesting for a sequel to ‘gave me no compasses, gave me no signs’ as well; truthfully, I’m not sure if this fic is in the same ‘universe’ as that one — all I can definitively say is that this still follows the canon. So, I’ll leave it up to you to decide if it’s the same timeline or not. I have a lot of fic ideas lined up for an “official” sequel, anyway. ;)

The Solhwi brain rot just gets more potent as we anticipate the new episodes — I absolutely love receiving plot ideas from all of you, and while it’s a challenge to interpret it in my own way, I still hope that it’s on par with your expectations. As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts and comments. You can send me a message anytime too! I know I say this often, but your continued support really really keeps me motivated to write. Would love to make new friends as well, if we can help it.

Okay, the note is getting too long now. As usual, the fic is under the cut, and all mistakes in this fic are mine. Enjoy!

There was that moment, when you stole all the air from my atmosphere; when my heart pounded within the might of all the planets.

It’s the third time Han Joonhwi has bit his tongue in the past ten minutes, attempting to stifle his oncoming yawns, trying not to cause any disturbance. He fights his drowsiness as best as he can, hoping that his companion wouldn’t notice — and yet, as his luck would have it, the moment he couldn’t hold it in any longer just so happened to be the exact same moment the person next to him lifted her nose from the book it was buried in.

Without looking at him, she flips another page. Tone commanding but masked with concern, Kang Sol mumbles, “Just go to bed already.”

So much for being lowkey, he thought. Joonhwi stretches himself awake, thinking of the perfect response: casual enough to make it look like he doesn’t care, but caring enough that she wouldn’t push him away. “Not until you’re done,” he finalizes.

Sol scoffs, tossing her pen lightly on the table. “You don’t even take this class.”

Well, of course he knew that. But Kang Sol A — truthfully, he prefers to omit the distinction: no matter how many Kang Sols there are in Korea, or hell, even in the entire world, he’s only got eyes for one — is not getting anything out of him. If getting Joonhwi to admit his true feelings was her goal, she’s far from reaching it.

“You know why I’m here,” he sidetracked.

Unconvinced, she turns to him with a provoking look, and Joonhwi already knows she’s about to go on a long-winded rant. “Yeah, yeah, I do,” she started. “You want to hang out with me but instead of just asking like a normal person, you make up this lame excuse about how I need to study even though I was already planning on doing that anyway. You practically finished studying ages ago so you just sitting there doing nothing is really rubbing salt in my wounds.”

He watches her with both his hands on his head, suppressing a smile. Finding an opening, Sol pushes his chest lightly. “I don’t need you here. Get out.”

She said it so weakly that he knows there’s no way she could have meant it. Making sure she doesn’t lose her balance, Joonhwi quickly takes hold of her wrists and gently places them back on the table. “You talk too much,” he breathed.

Sol purses her lips in annoyance and propped her chin up with her hand. “Yeah, well, that’s why you’re dating me,” she pouted.

If she keeps putting him in his place like this, he might actually have to walk out, but not for the reasons she’d expect him to, like his supposed exhaustion. Joonhwi knows Sol doesn’t do this on purpose, but she naturally has a way of making him flustered, and he’s trying really hard not to lose his cool right now.

She stomps her feet lightly on the ground, groaning. “This is too difficult,” she complains, leaning her head on Joonhwi’s shoulder.

Really, really hard.

It’s funny how Sol can say something one minute and then completely contradict it by the next. She says she doesn’t need him there, but clings onto him like her life depended on it. Not that Joonhwi was complaining — but he does want to have a little fun with her. He wanted to stir her a bit with something like, I thought you didn’t need me here? He knows she hates being called out for snappy remarks that she only ever means as a joke.

But a quick glance at Sol, in her favorite pajamas and one of Joonhwi’s sweaters, on the very rare occasions she has her hair down, bangs falling on her eyes, Joonhwi decided against it. Her vulnerability shouldn’t be treated with ridicule; it should be met with an equal amount of softness. After all, no one else but Joonhwi gets to see Sol like this — he finds that as a privilege which shouldn’t be taken for granted.

“Okay.” He gives in. “Let me have a look.”

Joonhwi holds his palm out to ask for the reading material, which, as usual, Sol rejects. “Didn’t we already talk about this?”

He feigns innocence. “Talk about what?”

Her head feels heavy on his shoulder. “I need to be able to stand on my own if I’m going to survive law school hell,” she reminds him. “You can’t keep coming to my rescue for every little inconvenience.”

“So this is just a minor setback?” Joonhwi teases. He couldn’t help it.

“No,” Sol cries, “it’s a major obstacle.”

She snuggles up against him, and Joonhwi could literally feel the heat rising to his face. Nonetheless, he lightly holds the side of her head for support and asks, “So what? Are you just going to give up?”

“Of course not,” she mumbles, her breath hot on his neck. Joonhwi knows the law well, but he feels like this should be illegal.

“But sometimes I wish I was just naturally smart like you.”

He lets out a soft sigh. Like many other things, the pair have talked about this before, and Joonhwi has never denied that he and many others have had a significant head start over Sol. But this is what he’d always tell her:

“If everyone in this school had half as much of your wit, every crime in the world would have been solved by now.”

To which she’d grimace and respond with, “Yeah, tell that to the F I got in Criminal Code.”

But tonight was different. Sol wasn’t coming from a place of defeat, she was saying this out of frustration. She was probably thinking that maybe, had her life choices been different, she would have had it easier. That maybe, had she been as lucky in wealth and opportunities as everyone else, she wouldn’t need to work twice as hard as them. So that maybe, like Joonhwi, she could just comfortably sit in silence with him and enjoy his company.

Right now, he’s treading murky waters and he’s afraid that one wrong move could give Sol the wrong idea. Joonhwi has never been the type to open up to people, but she never made it difficult for him to do so. With Sol, honesty was just the default. Telling her things he’d never entrust with anyone else came as easy as breathing.

He takes her hand and gingerly intertwines it with his own. “I didn’t have it easy at the beginning either,” he admits. “Law school wasn’t even a part of my plan, and yet here I am.”

This is at least one thing he knows Sol could empathize with. After being betrayed by the last person he’d ever expect to hurt him, Joonhwi’s life took a turn. To an extent, he was motivated by rage. But mostly, he was just trying to find a way to turn that pain into something useful, trying to make sure no one else has to go through what he did. And call him foolish for being too hopeful or optimistic, but he believes this is something he and Sol can do for each other. They’re two sides of the same coin: the law owes Sol an apology, and Joonhwi is coming to terms with the fact that he might never get one, ultimately being robbed of the opportunity after his uncle’s untimely death.

Joonhwi knows his words bear significant weight to Sol. There’s a lot of things he wants to say to her but right now he just settles with, “I think you’re smart enough. If anything, you need to stop going overboard. What if you get sick again?”

She lifts her head and stares at him with doe eyes.

“That’s why I’m here.” He raises their interlocked fingers to show to her. “Why do you think I’m holding your hand? It’s so I can pull you out from under when you’re drowning in all of this.”

Sol slowly breaks out into an endearing smile, trying to repress her laughter but failing. “Heol. Han Joonhwi, since when were you so sentimental?”

Joonhwi doesn’t know where this newfound bravery came from, but he kisses Sol on the forehead lightly. “Since you needed it.”

Sol blinks, her expression unreadable, and Joonhwi fears that he may have done the wrong thing. But much to his disbelief, she instead grabs him by the collar and closes the gap between her lips and his. They crash against one another in perfect rhythm, and Joonhwi mentally slaps himself for not doing this sooner. Never has he felt more at peace than at this very moment, which was ironic considering he was supposed to be the one doing the comforting. And yet, the lines blur when he realizes that even when their methods are vastly different, they’re at their best when they’re in tune with each other’s needs.

And right now, this is what he needs the most.

Much to Joonhwi’s dismay, Sol finally pulls away; they’re both out of breath.

Still in a daze, he musters up the courage to ask such a stupid question. In fact, he’s surprised he could even speak at all. “What was that for?”

“You’re not the only sentimental one here. If you’re going to kiss me, do it right.”

That was when I knew, you were worlds more, than just a first kiss.

Send me your thoughts here!

#jtbc law school #law school #kang sol a #han joon hwi #solhwi #kim bum #ryu hye young #kang sol a x han joon hwi #fics #jtbc #kdrama #korean drama #mine #otp: why couldn't you be here sooner

113 notes · View notes

7-wonders · 4 years ago

Text

Love That Moves the Sun and Other Stars

Summary: If you thought defying death, becoming the most powerful witch currently living, defeating Satan, defying death again, and becoming immortal was difficult, you were obviously mistaken. Coronation, royalty lessons, and pesky in-laws make the idea of facing Satan again more appealing with each day that passes. Luckily, your husband is by your side for it all. But will the love you share be enough to get you through these challenges?

Word Count: 1292 (just a short little introductory bb to set this up)

A/N: Ahhhhh I'm so excited for this! This is officially the first chapter of As Above, So Below's sequel. I've had so much fun revisiting these characters again, and I hope you have fun reading. If you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and comment. If you haven't read AASB before, strap in and click this link, because it's 70k+ words of pure goodness. Lastly, if you want to be on a taglist, let me know!

(moodboard made by the amazing @brattylovee)

She feels them before any of her other senses pick up on them. Being a goddess means her senses are especially attuned to any sort of disturbance, and that’s no different here. It’s an evolutionary trait, one meant to make sure that those gifted with immortality have an upper hand in case of danger, but there’s no danger here. Achlys, or Zoe (she doesn’t really have a preference which name you call her), smiles when she realizes that those she cares about are finally home. Indeed, those around her begin to pick up on this return too. Even Cerberus lifts his heads up, studying the noises he hears before jumping up in excitement and bounding towards the throne room. Zoe chuckles, standing from her spot in one of the many sitting rooms and transmuting herself to the throne room.

The hellhound does not even blink when he sees that one of his mistresses reached his destination before he did, screeching to a stop and barking happily. The king of the Underworld stands in the center of the throne room, his new wife holding onto his arm. Neither you (the aforementioned new wife) nor Michael can wipe the smiles off of your faces, both so wrapped up in newly wedded bliss that it’s impossible to not let the rest of the world see how happy you are. Only Zoe clearing her throat breaks your eyes away from those of your husband’s, and you grin even wider when you see her.

“Zoe!” you greet, untangling your hand from Michael’s to wrap your arms around your friend. “I’ve missed you!”

“Oh yes, because I’m sure you had plenty of time to think about those of us here while Michael was whisking you around the world.” Her eyes twinkle with mirth as she teases you, briefly letting go of you to customarily curtsey in the direction of Michael. “My lord.”

“I believe we’ve been past these formalities for about 200 years now, Zoe,” Michael says as he comes up behind you and puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Force of habit.” Zoe turns back to you. “So? How was everything?”

“Oh, the honeymoon was wonderful. Michael took me to Greece, and he did some magic to make Athens look like how it did when everybody thought you lived on a mountain.”

“Stunning, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know what was better, Rome, France, or Greece.”

“They all have their charms.”

“Bet the sex was good, too.” Hecate appears with her arms crossed, smirking at you and Michael.

“That’s really inappropriate--” Michael starts, but you cut him off.

“You wish we would tell you.” You wink, Madison laughing and pulling you into a hug. Knowing that she’s finally getting used to hugging, you smile victoriously. “Anyways, the honeymoon was great...for me, at least.”

Madison laughs. “It wasn’t great for Michael?”

“No, he felt like it was ruined because I made him meet my parents.”

Michael scowls as if to emphasize your point. “I’m a god, why is it that meeting my wife’s mortal parents intimidates me?”

“He’s just being dramatic; my parents love him!”

“Do they know that you’re married?” Zoe asks.

“No, we said we’re ‘dating’ and taking things slow, which, in Underworld time, we technically did.”

“Gods, I wish I would have been there for that conversation,” Madison chimes in.

The doors open, interrupting your conversation, and Michael’s right hand demon appears with a bow. “My lord, welcome back.”

“Thank you, Cassius.” Like a switch being flipped, Michael assumes the position of God of the Dead.

“I hope you enjoyed your vacation, for we have quite the workload for you to tackle.”

“Yes, of course.” You look at Michael with a pout, which really isn’t fair on your part considering you just spent the past month uninterrupted with him, but still...you thought you would at least be able to relax with him a little bit before jumping back to work.

“King stuff?” you ask.

Michael nods. “King stuff.” He kisses your head just barely, already on the move to go handle whatever’s first on the long list that Cassius is holding. “But don’t worry, you’ll have plenty to keep you busy, what with the coronation and all.”

“The coronation?”

“Yes, your advisors will explain it further.” Michael glances behind his shoulder. “I love you!”

“I love you too.” But he’s already gone. “Did you two know anything about a coronation?”

“No, but it’s kind of assumed that there would be one, since you married a king and all,” Madison says.

“You’re my advisors, so tell me about the coronation.”

Madison laughs. “We’re far too important to be anyone’s advisors. No, as the soon-to-be Queen of the Underworld, you have an actual staff.”

“But...do I actually need a whole staff?”

“Considering you’ve never done any sort of crash course on how to be nobility, I would say that you do.”

You nod sagely. “Like in Princess Diaries.”

Madison and Zoe share a confused look. “I have no idea what that means.”

“Oh, it’s a movie. Basically this girl finds out from her grandma that--”

“I wish I could say that I’d watch it, but I won’t.” At this point, Madison interrupting you is so normal that it doesn’t even phase you anymore. “But let’s face it, you’re going in completely blind. You need some sort of help.”

“Why from other people though? I’d rather that you and Zoe just helped.”

“Neither of us are skilled at planning coronations, and we can’t guarantee that we’ll always be around whenever you need to learn something related to your new role. We’ll certainly try, though,” Zoe says.

“Who’s this ‘we’ you’re talking about?” Madison jokes. “Don’t stress about it, okay?”

“I’m not!” you insist.

“I can see it in your face, you totally are. Nothing’s going to change, and you have nothing to worry about.”

“Besides having to learn how to be a queen?”

“Besides that. But I thought you knew that you would have to do this?”

“I did, but I just didn’t think it would be so sudden. I thought I would have some time after getting back before having to deal with this.”

“Okay, you need to get out of your head,” Zoe says, “and we’re going to show you that things will still be as they were before you married Michael.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“Well, how much of the Underworld have you explored before?”

“Not much. Michael took me to Elysium for a date once, and we went to see the Fates, but the only other time I had been out of the castle was when I ran and that monster almost ate me.”

“Perfect. We’re having a girls’ night out, then, and showing you the fun parts of the Underworld.” Madison squeals upon hearing Zoe say this, and you can already see the wheels turning in her head. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing yet.

“There are fun parts of the Underworld?”

“Why would we continue to live here if there weren’t?” Madison asks, and you admit that she has a point.

“Consider it, like, a bachelorette party! Mortals do that, right?” Zoe looks at you in anticipation.

“Yeah, but I’m not really a bachelorette anymore.”

“So? It’s a belated party, and any event like this is an excuse to go have fun.”

“Oh, alright.”

Zoe claps her hands together. “Perfect! Let’s go find some suitable outfits.”

Zoe and Madison each take one of your hands, walking and chatting about the places that they want to take you and where they think you would like best. Though you huff and roll your eyes, you have to admit: it’s good to be home.

///

Tag List: @ladyrindt @hecohansen31 @xavierplympton @michaellangdon @trelaney @dark-mei-rose @blakescoven @ajokeformur-ray @michaelsapostle @nsainmoonchild

#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon imagines #hades and persephone #hades and persephone au #michael langdon au #ahs imagine #ahs imagines #ahs fanfiction #american horror story #american horror story imagine #american horror story apocalypse

100 notes · View notes

alluringjae · 4 years ago

Text

[ 23:45 ] ⮕ END

part of my collection of cookie cuts from all i do is wait

in order to understand, read the main story first here.

pairing: ghost!doyoung x female!reader

genre: angst, sum fluff if you really squint

warnings: death, grief

author’s note: someone asked me how i would interpret this scene, so here it is. this hurt A LOT. have fun though!

leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Mid-1953

At long last, the Korean War has ended after 3 years.

Over 5 million people dead, and to be one of the lucky survivors was a miracle.

The remaining soldiers who’ve fought through it all could return home, whilst civilians can properly rebuild all that was devastatingly destroyed in their cities. Their own normal lives included.

The fiercest 3 years of your life must you say, too engaged with self-studying your history books saved pre-war while dealing with the bargaining stage of your grief towards Doyoung. Every day, you couldn’t go on without overthinking the what-ifs. On top of that, your toddler Areum was at the stage where she loved creating a mess on the walls with her crayons. No matter how many times you’ve corrected her because it wasn’t your house, she continued anyway.

Now, she’s full-blown crying after you confiscated them and you’re on the verge of it. Thankfully, your mother stepped in to take her out for a walk in the neighborhood so you could unwind for a bit.

Since news broke out that the war ended, everyone from every street cheered and danced on the streets. You hailed with praise along with them, positive that things were going to get better. Yet deep down, you’ve selfishly wished that he was one of the lucky few to come home.

If only you didn’t chicken out so easily after he told you he was enlisting so you had a few more seconds with him.

If only you compromised him to join another field.

If only you told him about Areum earlier so he could go home.

These thoughts revolved your mind the most, instantly getting you to break down wherever you were. Even photos of him and you together were enough to tear down your walls. So, they remained hidden until the day you’re in a much better state of mind.

Dear god, you longed for him. Everything that consists of him.

In hopes to forget this tremendous loss in your life, you poured hot tea in a cup and started on this new book from this ongoing series, The Chronicles of Narnia. Getting it during this harsh period was tough, bartering it with old books you’ve owned in the market.

Fully preoccupied in the fantastical universe, flipping the pages quickly, you almost missed the continuous knocking on your door. You let out a tiny gasp and made your way to the entrance. As delusional to think it was Doyoung, you knew it wasn’t your mother and Areum either because they would’ve simply walked in. Opening it anyways, you were met by two young tall men. One had a bandage on his cheek while the other had a cast on his right arm. Noting their growing hair, they must’ve fought in the war.

Oh, if Doyoung was one of them.

“Hello, may I know who you two are?”

The one with the bandage spoke up, bowing first. “Hello, I am Lee Taeyong and this is my friend, Kim Jungwoo. We were good friends of your late lover, Kim Doyoung.”

Late lover.

Haven’t heard that since people in the neighborhood gossiped about your taboo pregnancy, but it’s not like they knew anyways. But from the letters exchanged with Doyoung before, he talked about these two highly. Whenever there were times of ease while serving, Doyoung was always up to mischievous things with these two. In a situation where they had to man up, they brought out his inner child.

“Oh, yes! Doyoung used to talk about you two in his letters, but I had no clue how you guys looked.”

By instinct, you invited them inside for tea by the patio. You’ve always wanted to meet them despite the circumstances. Bringing in a tray with a teapot and treats, mostly you were inquiring about their lives. Aside from knowing their positions in the team, you learned of their new plans moving forward.

“I want to return to university to finish my studies in mechanical engineering, maybe travel the world too.” Jungwoo stated, blowing on his cup before sipping it. He’s said to be an organized man according to Doyoung, always cautious of his surroundings. It balanced out his liveliness.

“Me too! I want to complete my major in finance, then marry my childhood sweetheart after a few years.” Taeyong expounded, his round eyes glowed in wonder. He must’ve been looking forward to this day, and you were content for him. Meanwhile, it processed to Taeyong what he said, realizing that it may have been insensitive.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” He burst out instantly. “I got stuck in my feelings there.”

“It’s okay, nothing to worry about. You shouldn’t apologize for how you feel.”

“I do think we should feel worried about you though.” Jungwoo interrupted, sighing heavily. “What happened with Doyoung-hyung all those years ago, we’re really concerned for you especially.”

At the mention of the painful memory, this wasn’t the right time to crumble. You weren’t capable to show your vulnerability to anyone but yourself. Plastering a wrenching pretend smile, “I appreciate the concern, truly. But I’ll be okay again. I’m planning to return to university too, then proceed to law school. A shared dream of mine and his.”

Taeyong and Jungwoo transparently viewed you like glass, coping with the grief of it. They were on the same page as you, and unaware to you, they knew his final words. With their interpretation, it only felt right to reach out to you. Befriend you, aid you in any possible way.

At the end of the day, three of you equally shared the suffering over the death of a loved one.

Sitting in peaceful silence, the front door creaked open followed by a tiny, high-pitched voice squealing.

“We’re home!” Your mother shouted.

“I’m at the patio, we have guests over!” You replied, pouring more tea for the two quiet boys.

From such a low-spirited atmosphere only did it liven up when an energetic Areum came into your setting. She had pigtails this time, satisfying herself with fresh bungeo-ppang from the neighborhood. No matter what you’re feeling, it took a single glance of her with her small moon-like eyes to recharge you.

“Mom, who are your friends here?” She pondered cluelessly.

The two boys exchanged looks at each other first, then to you in one breath. Their expressions of perplexity by how one’s hand was on their mouth and the other boy couldn’t stop staring at Areum, you identified exactly what they were thinking of.

“Areum, these are your dad’s friends in the army.” You animatedly confirmed. “The one with that tiny bandage on his face is uncle Taeyong, and the one with the white cast is uncle Jungwoo.”

Doyoung’s death was already so heavy to take in, but upon discovering this hidden surprise, Jungwoo wiped his tears on his sleeve. But you were fast to hand him some tissue. He was younger than you, so your older sister instincts kicked in.

“This is unjust, (Y/N).” He murmured across you so Areum won’t pick up his words. Your lips pressed against each other, maintaining a straight face at him. He was right.

With Taeyong, his arms spread out wide for the small girl who willingly walked to him. He loved children, having a nephew back home. He caressed her smooth hair down to her jaw. The first thing he distinguished was her pretty eyes followed by her squishy cheeks, resembling so much of his late friend.

“You’re so pretty, Areum. Did your mom tell you that you mirror so much of your dad?”

“Yes, she does! But I’ve never met him and I don’t when I will, uncle Taeyong.”

A tragedy how the splitting image of his best friend doesn’t see what everyone sees. But again, she’s only 3 and she can only process so much. She doesn’t know the real truth behind her father’s location, except that he was working far, far away. There are days she’d ask if he’d come back soon, yet your only response is not now. This isn’t the right time for her purity about life to stain.

“Well Areum,” Jungwoo gathered his senses again, crouching down to her level. “As his friends, we know that you look just like him! Prettier even.”

“Really? Tell me more about him, uncle Jungwoo!”

It’s about time someone else shared stories about your late lover because yours was short-lived. It’s even more intriguing to listen to what other people have to say about Doyoung that weren’t his parents. Some stories told by Taeyong and Jungwoo were new to you too, giggling along to their ridiculousness when they’re not training or fighting. Loving their presence, you invited them to stay for dinner with your family, which they couldn’t reject.

What started as a tense conversation transformed into a heartwarming experience. These two boys earned a spot in your life, aspiring for longtime friendships with them. The tender way they cherished for Areum like they’re own after meeting for the first time, it’ll fill in bits of her void. In exchange, they insisted to chip in for you and her lives so it wouldn’t be just you and your family. Struggling already with the consequences of the war, it only felt proper to do so.

“Doyoung has always been there for us, now let us return the favor and be there for you and Areum.”

Your protests were deemed useless, so you allowed them to do so. Once you finished law school and take the exams, you could pay them back. It’s phenomenal how Doyoung’s good influence towards others multiplied even after his passing. Maybe if you began to view things this way, you’d recover sooner. Although he’ll always be in your thoughts, it wouldn’t be as sensitive as it is now.

For now, you’re just going to enjoy the bliss Taeyong and Jungwoo brought, retelling old tales of a drunk Doyoung on the dining table.

From behind your garden fence in secret, Doyoung secretly observed as his treasured companions interacted at last with positivity. His only daughter mirroring his adored smile, he lived in that moment vicariously through her.

What a good time to visit today, truly.

55 notes · View notes

tales-unique · 4 years ago

Text

MEMORIES OF THE WEST III

Needless to say, Dutch is Interested. After the initial shock and suspicion subsides he hounds you with questions, all while marching you over to his tent, motioning two men over with a swift motion. Arthur and Hosea, the same men he had been talking with earlier on. You stand awkwardly between the three, fidgety under their gaze. Hosea seems the most agreeable of them while Arthur is wary of you, if first introductions are to go by, but Dutch doesn't waste another minute with the pleasantries. “Miss DuBois, if you please.”

“Oh,” you clear your throat, eyes flicking between them. You suddenly feel small , but you try to hide it as best you can. “His name is Jebediah Kramer. He’s a gambling man from Saint Denis who, I happen to know, has just come into a large sum of money.” “Just how much money are we talkin’ here? And how do you know about it?” Arthur speaks up, eyeing you suspiciously. He looks intimidating, all broad shoulders and piercing eyes. If it were under different circumstances you might have enjoyed the sight. You give him a tight-lipped smile instead. ”At least a couple thousand, and I know ‘cause the no good, pompous, cheating son-of-a-bitch took it from my brother in a rigged poker game!” The three fall silent. Dutch has his hands on his hips. Hosea crosses his arms with a slow nod. Arthur just watches you with suspicious eyes. “So that’s why you’re more than happy to let us rob him blind!” Arthur breaks the silence, throwing his hands up in the air. “You just need someone to do your dirty work, huh?” He turns to Dutch, a scowl on his face. “I bet it aint even that much money, it’s not worth the risk Dutch! Not with all the heat we already have!” “Easy, Arthur,” Dutch waves his hand dismissively, “any lead is welcome, you know that—” You’re surprised by his support, but none-the-less pleased. “—But I admit, I am curious why you would let us ride away with your brothers wrongfully taken money. Care to enlighten us further?” Now, not so much. “Well, the money wasn’t my brothers to gamble with,” you sigh, fidgeting, “he took it on loan, and was supposed to pay it back, but obviously he couldn't with it all gone. Jebediah, ever the kindhearted rich man,” you sneer, “offered to pay off the debt and give a little more besides for a trade,” your voice tapers off into a murmur at the end, your teeth nipping the inside of your cheek, anger bubbling in your stomach. “Well?” Dutch probes, impatient, “what trade ?” “For my hand in marriage!” You hiss low, stomping on the mound of dirt you hadn’t realized you were shoveling with your foot. “And the damned idiot said yes ! Like I’m some pet o-or a piece of furniture that don’t have feelings or a mind of her own!” Flustered, you take in a deep breath in order to try and calm yourself, crossing your arms tightly across your chest. “So yes , it’s a little bit of dirty work on my behalf, but the way I see it you’re the ones who get the better end of the deal. And you can keep anything else you find too, I don’t care. It ain’t mine after all,” you shrug, cold and distant. It’s a little sobering for the men before you but you don’t care. Jebediah is a rich man who doesn’t give two hoots about anyone or anything but himself; he deserves far worse than this, but at least your brother will have learned a harsh lesson and you won’t have to marry that fool Kramer. He’ll be too busy nursing his ruined ego to focus on you, after all. You hope. “Well,” Dutch drawls, breaking the stalemate, “ain’t that something. What do you say, gentlemen?” He asks Hosea and Arthur, both of whom have stayed quiet after your little outburst. “I doubt Miss DuBois would be so, well, so animated over nothing,” Hosea states, “I say we take a look into this Mr Kramer.” He offers you a small smile and a dip of his head, which you return. “And you, Arthur?” Arthur grumbles, shuffling from one foot to another before he shakes his head. He takes out a cigarette, holding it between his lips before looking you dead in the eyes. “Better not be setting us up like fools, Miss,” he growls, striking a match. Through the smoke he looks like one of those mountain men you’ve read about in your books, all rugged and rough. Now you can see why they sell so well among the ladies in the gentry. Dutch nods, a hand coming to your shoulder in a reassuring pat. “Well then Miss DuBois, I think the matter is settled! Now, all we need is a plan .” Reconnaissance — the first phase of Dutch’s plan. A trip to Saint Denis was in order, he explained, to return the stolen bride-to-be and in the process integrate themselves into the business of Jebediah Kramer directly. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy, you told yourself, but humored Dutch with a smile and a nod anyway. “We should have taken the train! ” You huff, shifting in the saddle to try and get the blood flowing to your legs. You’ve been riding for a while now and while you’re grateful not to be walking all the way to Saint Denis, you would have preferred your own mount instead of sharing one. Especially with a certain ill-tempered cowboy. “Quit your whining, we’ll make camp as soon as we get to open ground,” Arthur grumbles, growling in frustration when he, too, has to readjust to get comfortable. The large stallion he rides, a hulking Ardennes, snorts in complaint at the unruly riders. You shush him gently, smoothing your fingers out along his neck. “Only if you mean it this time,” you counter sourly. Arthur just chuckles, recalling how you fell for the lie twice before you called his bluff. He does mean it this time though and it’s not long before Arthur picks out a suitable spot to set up camp. It’s just enough for two weary travelers on the road. Two small tents, two bedrolls, and a small fire. You sip at a strange concoction that Hosea gave you, made out of American Ginseng, which he said would help boost you up a bit after your ordeal. It tastes funny, but you do feel better. Arthur is smoking, eyes on the rabbit that he’s cooking. You’re curious of him, but he doesn’t seem like the kind of man that enjoys being quizzed and questioned. You decide to do it anyway. “So...” You start, trying to make small talk to fill the deafening silence. Arthur flicks his gaze briefly to you, but it’s soon back on the rabbit. “So?” He repeats when you remain quiet, raising an eyebrow. “So, what’s it like being an outlaw ?” Not the most original question in the world and you know it. You cringe inside and you can see the tension in Arthur's expression. He’s probably been asked that before, plenty of times, by all sorts of people and you feel stupid. He scoffs and shakes his head, distracting himself with the now cooked rabbit. You awkwardly decline his offer for some. You’re too busy hoping a hole would open up and swallow you whole “Sorry,” you murmur sheepishly, “that was, God, that was awful!” Arthur snickers, making you smile. “Well I wasn’t gonna say anything, but now that you mention it,” he teases, the awkward tension leaving your shoulders as you laugh. It didn’t sit right with him, how uptight you were. Especially since he knew it was because of how standoffish he’d been with you in camp. The stress of everything with the law, that mess in Blackwater, and Dutch acting strange was weighing heavily on him but that didn’t give him the right to be mean to you. He could have been civil about it. Hosea always taught him to be, even when disagreeing, not that Dutch ever minded him being more of a brute. And a brute he had been. Until he saw that look in your eye, that is. Like a puppy who was kicked for being a little too excited, a little too much for those around it. With a sigh, he gives you the once over before sitting up straighter. The cooked rabbit meat is stowed away for later, when you’re both on the move again. “You really wanna know what it’s like to be an outlaw?” He asks and you visibly perk up, surprised that he’s answering your question. “Are you really gonna tell me?” You counter, narrowing your eyes. You’re suspicious, but the smile creeping onto your lips betrays your excitement. Arthur finds he quite likes this side to you; maybe you are more suited for this life than he gave you credit for. “Well, it ain’t fun,” he breaths, “I mean, you’re practically living it already. You’ve been kidnapped, starved, hustled into some fools errand by a gang of misfits, and now you’re planning to rob some rich fool blind and get out alive to spend the money!" He chuckles. “All we gotta do is get you in a gun fight and girl you’ll be the real deal,” he adds, smirking. You’re quiet for a moment, studying him, before you break down into laughter as Arthur watches you in amusement, illuminated by the firelight. “You really think so?” You laugh, shaking your head, “I don’t even know how to use a gun!” “Then I’ll teach you,” Arthur says after a moment of contemplation, “you’ll need it if you’re gonna run with us.” The resoluteness of his tone stifles your laughter and you once again look at him with those wide eyes, barely contained excitement brimming within. “You will?” Suspicion radiates from you again but he waves it off dismissively. “Yeah, you’ll need to know just in case things go wrong,” he explains, “but c’mon now, it’s getting late. We should get some sleep while we can.” Stifling a yawn, you nod. Arthur will have you up with the dawn chorus so that you can make good time so you need all the rest you can get. Burrowing down into the blanket on your bedroll you sigh contently, peeking up at the stars as the fire becomes glowing embers. The stillness of the night surrounds you, coaxing you into a restful sleep as twinklings lights above fade to black. Arthur listens as your breathing evens out, steady and constant in your slumber. He stares up at the stars, ruminating on just how it came to be that you were there, with him, about to pull off something daring and downright foolish with the possibility of no pay off. Before he left with you Hosea had told him to have faith in you and your knowledge, but could he really be so quick to trust? Turning onto his side, Arthur watches you with interest. You’re curled up like one of those pretty cats in a basket, soft fur and sweet purrs. Long lashes kissing the tops of rosy cheeks. You’re an honest girl, he’s sure, but the more he watches your peaceful, sleeping face, the more he’s concerned that you’re in over your head, and that just doesn’t sit right with him.

#RDR2 #RDR2 Imagine #RDR2 Imagines #Red Dead Redemption 2 #Red Dead Redemption 2 Imagine #Red Dead Redemption 2 Imagines #Arthur Morgan #Arthur Morgan Imagine #Arthur Morgan Imagines

29 notes · View notes

haruno-sakura-san · 3 years ago

Text

Can't remember if I posted this before, but I was reading through my notes on my phone and found it. Either way, enjoy this playful one shot with Sakura and a mystery man!

🌸❓

"Rough day?" A man who slid into the seat next to Sakura at the bar asked. "None of your business." She snubbed him. "It's been a while since ive seen a leaf nin drink like that," he observed unprompted. She mentally noted that she wasn't wearing her heite. He was either assuming from her gear or he recognized her. "I'm off duty." "I would hope so." Her gaze cut back over to him. A hood and tinted glasses obscured any identify features, but even so he looked incredibly mundane. In her line of work, that was also incredibly dangerous. "Listen, you seem like a nice guy-" "That assumptions a bit premature." "But I'm not here to meet anyone so if you don't mind-" "Actually I do." She glared at him for a long moment, not wanting to be interrupted again. "See, I'm waiting for someone myself." He offered finally. "You don't say" her tone thick with disinterest. "But I'm beginning to think I've been stood up." He sounded more amused than put out. She wondered if it was some kind of pickup strategy to get her to feel bad. "I can't imagine why." She said in the same flat tone. "My thoughts exactly."

Sakura made a sharp sound of disapproval. "My deepest sympathies. I don't see how this has anything to do with me." "Well, it really doesnt, on the surface. But you see, here I was feeling sorry for myself when I see you stomping in here, looking like you've just dragged yourself through a pigsty-" "It was a river bed." "Oh thank you- a river bed. Possibly the sorriest sight I've seen all day - not that I would normally say such a thing to a lady. I'm sure you look at least pleasant under normal circumstances." "Does this story have a point?" Feeling her anger swell at his commentary. "Of course, I just thought it might be nice to commiserate together - one passing stranger to another." She hates the cocky way he inclines his head, gesturing between them with his glass. "No, thanks." "Oh come on - why else come to a bar?" "For a drink - unbothered." "If that were the case, then I'd think the liquor store down the street would have done the job." "And what, have a few drinks at the store front? They have laws against that, you know." "You dont have a hotel room to drink in?" "Of course not" "Interesting." He purred. She realized she said too much. "So your plan was to get tipsy and then travel back to konoha or wherever your headed, seemingly alone, in the middle of the night." "I don't have to explain myself to you." "No, I think I've got a good handle on the situation without any explanation. Where are your teammates anyway? Isn't there someone around to keep you from making dangerous decisions like this. A captain maybe or a boyfriend?" Sakura slams her glass down against the wood of the bar. "For your information, I can more than take care of myself. I have an extremely high alcohol tolerance. And I've had too long a day for a pretty boy like you to be picking at me when all I want to do is have a drink in the peaceful Haven that is my own mind. So shut your trap. Am I clear?" "No, I have several questions." She snarls and begins to crack her nuckles in preparation to put this idiot though a wall when the bar tender yells, "No fighting in my bar! Take it outside if you want to act like animals." She settles back into her seat. "Sorry, sir. No need for that. This poser isn't worth the energy," she grumbles under her breath. "Lets backtrack to pretty boy. That had a nicer ring to it." Clenching her jaw, she takes a deep breath, exhales and takes a long drag on her drink. "So are you going to tell me the river bed story, Pocahontas?" "If I do, will you leave me alone?" "It certainly won't hurt your chances" She huffs. "Fine. I got caught in a fishing net." There was a beat of silence. "And?" She gave him a long-suffering look. "And was dragged behind a fishing boat." His eyebrows rose. "And how did that happen?" "I was pushing the boat. It was beached on a shallow part of the river." "Pushing it?" "Yeah." "Remind me to tip that bartender for not letting you deck me into next week." She smirked into her drink. Damn straight. "So when the boat broke free these fishermen did what? Cast their nets right done on top of you?" "Yup. I had to cut myself free and everything." "No good deed goes unpunished I guess." "Technically it wasn't a good deed, they were paying me to help." "That's even worse. And no one noticed you were missing onboard?" "Well, they wouldn't let me on the boat in the first place -" "Why not?" "It's bad luck." "Bad luck?" "To have a woman on board." "Wait a moment. So before the ship got stuck in the first place, while it was sailing, where were you? Nearby on the shore?" "No. I was running alongside them in the water." He laughed outright. "Running alongside them. That's too good. They didn't even give you rowboat." Her face flushed. She hadn't thought to ask for a row boat. "They were absolute assholes. Usually I can take quite a bit of crap from a client, but when he told me to pay for the net." "Pay for the net!" "And the lost profits for the day" "Ha!" "I told him just where he could shove his

lost profits and came to the nearest bar. I feel a little less sorry for myself now. Glad I could help. Now leave me be." "You don't want to hear my story?" "Not part of the deal. Now scram." He pouted, cheek resting on his hand. "But we were getting along so well." "You have a very twisted sense of relationships if you think that was getting along well." "I cannot argue with that." She didn't know if it was the alcohol or the bickering, but she was finally feeling a little unwound. Studying his profile for a moment, she thought it must definitely be the alcohol. "If you're going to stare, i might as well tell you my story." Definitely the alcohol. "I wasn't staring." She huffed, turning sharply away "Would admiring be more accurate?" "Do you ever shut up?" "For the majority of the time yes I do. It's quite liberating to go on and on like this. Strangers make some of the best conversation. You don't have to hold back because they will never see you again, probably not even remember speaking." She hated that he was right. She also hated that she couldn't see his eyes, instead watching his lips move. Kami must hate her because he had rather nice lips. "You're admiring again." They said. "Staring," she corrected. "Staring then." He said in a low voice, leaning in slightly. "Tell me your story." She said, trying to break the moment by divert this exchange to something hopefully safer for her psychy. Those damn lips curlled up in a feline grin. "Of course, my little mud pie." "Don't push it." She snapped, "You were meeting someone." "Yes, I've been seeing them for some time now. We are both wonderers so we meet about once a month. " "How long is some time now?" "Hmm, about ten years maybe." "And you guys haven't made it official yet?" "Well, it's complicated. They are a little old for me, and I'm not sure what society would think." She got the feeling he was making fun of her, but didn't get the joke. "They've never once been late or missed a meeting. I'm a little worried you see." For the first time since meeting the guy, Sakura felt a little bad for him. "Plus theyve got hands and eyes that wander a bit too much for my liking." "Sounds like they finally got bored and left." She commented. "Well. Even so, the meetings were as much about business as pleasure." "And just what kind of business are you in exactly?" "I'd say we were in the same field." She scoffs, looking him up and down again, not able to make out anything helpful from his form from under his travelling cloak to back up his claim about being a Shinobi. It was convenient line for civilian men who hit on kunoichi, so she rolled her eyes. "Sure you are." "Don't believe me?" "I believe you'd say just about anything to get on my good side."

"Hmm," his lips curled in that feline way, "And I thought leaf nin we're very skilled at seeing underneath the underneath." She froze, recognizing her sensei's phrase. "Who exactly did you say you were meeting again?" "I didn't." She slowly turned toward him, hand sliding to her thigh pouch under the bar, but it was too late. Here eyes were locked on his red, glowing gaze, pin wheels spinning. She felt her consciousness being torn from her body and into the inky black of his sharingan.

🌸❓

Quite sure this was supposed to be Itachi but it's quite OOC for him. So I'll leave it to you reader to fill in who it is. I guess I like Shisui for it myself but don't limit yourself haha.

6 notes · View notes

madlymiho · 4 years ago

Note

Hello!!!! If I'm right on time can I request spooky alphabet Casper, Frankenstein, kill, supernatural & Unexpected with Law & Zoro? If not then delete this.

Hey anon! ☺️ you were in time!

Law's S and F letters has already been answered, so I won't put it again here!

Thanks for requesting my alphabet! 🤓❤️ I hope you'll enjoy it!

Spookyvent #12

Zoro

Casper: Do they believe in ghost? Would they hunt for them? Do they believe in a life after death or are they down on the ground most of the time?

Zoro isn’t so much a believer (remember how he claims he didn’t believe in God even when he was in Skypeia?), so ghosts? Meh, possible, for sure, maybe it exists, maybe not. Who really cares? If they exist, well, he’s not afraid of them, and he’s more curious to know if he’s able to slice them in pieces rather than truly study them. Can he kill a ghost for a second time? That would be a nice thing to discover for sure! If Luffy believes it can be fun the hunt them and discover their existence wherever they are, yeah, for sure he’s in! Zoro lives for the thrill and the fun, and he’s probably the one who doesn’t blink when his captain comes up with the stupidest ideas. So frankly, Zoro is swinging between his non-beliefs in general, and the very fact that his world is a damn example of weird things happening. If it happens, it happens, he will only care if it can bring some fun and challenge in his swordsman’s life!

Frankenstein: Favorite literature to read during this spooky period? Comics? Novels

Not that he’s the most idiotic man on Earth, but Zoro isn’t a thorough reader either. He sometimes borrows some comics to Usopp or Franky, he avoids to ask the damn cook for any kind of reading as well (because he knows what he will find), and he’s not really into very complicated books like Robin would enjoy. What can be his options? Chopper prefers to read medicinal books, Nami is into romance or navigation stuff, and Brook prefers some classical readings Zoro finds too boring to actually care. Perhaps if any of them could offer him a story with sword and war, he will pay attention and might try to read (if he’s not falling asleep during the process).

Nah, really, the best option remains in having a member of his crew (Robin, for sure), picking a very morbid and bloody story to read it out loud, so at least, he wouldn’t have to read it himself - especially not when someone can do it better than him!

Kill: What would be their most favorite way to kill someone? What is their method? Are they able to kill or would they get cold feet?

Killing isn’t what motivate Zoro to fight. He’s not looking for any sort of murder, and this is not the Straw Hat’s philosophy, on the contrary, they always prefer to try saving soulds rather than condemning them. Zoro will always make sure that he’s not deadly hurting someone, only seeking for the challenge of the combat rather than the death of his opponent. Even the most cruel ennemies he fought aren’t dead today, even if Zoro definitely has the power to end their lives.

Zoro has honor, despite his choice to become a pirate, and killing someone is a part of the forbidden thing of his own code.

Supernatural: What are their beliefs? Do they actually trust in supernatural existence in the first place?

Absolutely nothing, this guy is bulletproof to any kind of supernatural beliefs. You can put him a ghost, a god, a zombie, for sure he’s surprised, but he believes they are some kind of explanations, coming from the Devil Fruits in the first place. Real ghosts, real demons, all of these, he clearly thinks they are a myth and nothing else. He’s very rational, and would never pay attention this kind of stuff, preferring to live his life in peace.

Supernatural things aren’t a thing for a swordsman, he has to remain down to earth to prepare himself to claim the title of being the best fighter, and for that, he can only count on himself anyway.

Unexpected: What could really surprise them, what would be the most unexpected situations to spend Halloween for them?

Having a quiet celebration can be the only surprise for Zoro here. Quiet... the only world which would never define the Straw Hat and their chaotic vibes. It seems almost frightening to imagine that they can behave. Imagine how it can be so disturbing to have them all quietly seated around a table, eating in peace and soft voices, until they would all choose to sleep rather than doing some mischief in town?

So scary... It gives goosebumps to Zoro for sure!

Law

Casper: Do they believe in ghost? Would they hunt for them? Do they believe in a life after death or are they down on the ground most of the time?

No, definitely, Law doesn’t believe in ghosts. He doesn’t really believe in anything from the supernatural area, mostly because of his scientist mind for sure. Of course, as everyone, he has sometimes wished to be able to see his family again, or Corazon, because it could have offered him a bit of comfort when his days were dark and clouded. But right now, as the grown-up edgy man he is, frankly, ghosts are nothing but stories. Even in a world like the one he lives in, he can’t allow himself to really have hopes in those beliefs. So he doesn’t care, and wouldn’t hunt for them. Surely, he has better things to do.

A life after death? If he’s not certain about it, at least it hopes it exists. Probably because he wishes to see the people he lost once more. He wants them to forever live pain-free, in a soothing world they will all deserve. But it’s only his personal hopes, and not something he will share with anyone.

Kill: What would be their most favorite way to kill someone? What is their method? Are they able to kill or would they get cold feet?

It really depends on the person, Law would avoid killing someone if he can. He doesn’t believe it’s necessary, especially with the power of the ope ope no mi he has. After all, he can remove organs and uses them to balckmail those people, so killing innocents, or pirates, just for the thrill to kill someone else? No, really not for him. He’s also a doctor, and it would be a contradiction for him to assassinate everyone on his path.

Though, for the people who hurt his loved ones, you better be sure that death can be on the menu. He prefers to come up with a long prepared plan rather than just rushing to kill that person. His emotions are honestly blinding his judgement, and his way of killing might be utterly brutal, depends on what the person for sure. So yes, Law can kill, Law will kill if he has a good reason - he’s still a pirate after all - but he’s not thirsty for blood and can definitely control his wrath.

Unexpected: What could really surprise them, what would be the most unexpected situations to spend Halloween for them?

Probably endind up trick and treating with any member of his crew or some allies like the Straw Hat, or just... celebratring Halloween in the first place. The real surprise would be that someone eventually find the good arguments to make his change his plans. He doesn’t want to go outside, he doesn’t want to party, he doesn’t want to put a costume on... If anyone manages to make him change his mind, well, that would be quite a feat here! After all, Law hates when things don’t follow his plan, and he’s not very comfortable when something breaks what he has anticipated for days, or weeks.

For sure... He’s afraid of the chaos Hallowen can be if he’s around the Straw Hat for example, quite sure that he would have the most stressful night of his entire life for sure!

#one piece headcanons #one piece imagines #trafalgar law #roronoa zoro #trafalgar d. water law #zoro one piece #law one piece #one piece headcanon #one piece imagine #spookyvent #one piece halloween #one piece writing #anon request #queued

45 notes · View notes

musicanddancingthroughlife · 5 years ago

Text

Shklance -- Courting Pt2

It’s been a few weeks haha. Here’s a part two to the first part, which you can read here. Let me know what you think, cause it’s been a bit since I’ve written anything, honestly. Gotta say, I’m loving Keith haha he’s a lot of fun to write. Anyway, hope you enjoy it!

In other news, if anyone cares and ever reads these notes, I’ve really just been busy this summer. I spent about a week and a half sleeping, and I’m still trying to catch up on all the sleep I missed during classes, but I’ve also been attending a bunch of weddings. Like. So many weddings. And most of them are my husband’s family so one of us is always in the stupid party, and by the time they’re over I’m completely drained. Plus, work and family drama, as usual. Hate it but oh well I guess. Even now, I’m just dead tired and want to sleep, but I’ve got stuff I’ve been putting off and really need to work on haha.

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

The problem was, they had to be discreet. And Keith was anything but discreet. Take this morning, for example. It was the day just after Shiro and Keith had slipped into (no, Keith, we did not break in!) Lance’s apartment, and it was obvious that Lance had had a rough night of it. Now that they knew what they were looking for, it was obvious that Lance was having a hard time. He looked thinner than usual, and there were dark circles under his eyes, and he definitely seemed a lot more quiet and mellow than he usually was.

“Hey, Lance!” Keith was offended when his greeting was met with nothing more than a suspicious glare, because seriously??? They were friends! It’s not like Keith was planning anything nefarious – he just wanted to say hi to his close friend (and maybe possibly hopefully boyfriend, please please please) and then enjoy some time with him! He absolutely did not deserve a glare for his efforts!

“Um. Hey, Keith. Uh… what’s up?” Keith was pleased to see that Lance still offered him a bright grin, because that meant that they were still okay. Which meant this would be fine!

“What did you eat for breakfast this morning?”

Shiro face-palmed behind Keith, and Lance stiffened before forcing himself to relax. “W-what do you mean?”

“I should think that would be a simple question, Lance, what did you eat?”

“Ummm breakfast?” Lance laughed, the sound slightly higher than usual. “Was this a quiz? Did I pass?”

Keith opened his mouth, intent on finding out just how much nutrients his boy had actually consumed, but Shiro’s hand landed heavily on his shoulder and cut him off. “We were just wondering if you would like to join us. For breakfast. Which we haven’t eaten yet. Because we were waiting for you!”

Lance looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot and glancing all around them as he responded, “Actually, I’m okay. I’m not all that hungry.” Except, that was right when his stomach gurgled noisily, and Lance sighed and glared accusingly at his own midsection. Keith had to stifle a laugh because it wasn’t funny, goddammit!

“Lance,” Shiro sighed, “just come do breakfast with us. It won’t kill you, and you have some time, okay? Just try to enjoy a couple of hours of your weekend.”

Lance still looked like he wanted to refuse, but Shiro clapped him on the shoulders and steered him towards his car, while Keith excitedly bounced ahead to get the door for him. First he got to break into an apartment, and now he got to kidnap somebody? Not to mention all the extra time spent with the most beautiful boy he knew? It was literally a dream come true!

Okay, actually? This was a nightmare.

Lance was absolutely scarfing down his food, and while both Shiro and Keith were pleased to see he was being taken care of for once, that didn’t change the fact that he shouldn’t have been that hungry to begin with. He’d gone through more pancakes than Shiro, and that man ate like a tank! If it weren’t for the warning looks Shiro had been shooting him since they’d met Lance that morning, Keith would’ve dove right in with the questions about Lance’s living situation, but he figured that for now, he would just keep sliding Lance extra bits of food and wait patiently for Shiro to broach the subject.

They were seated at a diner, one frequently visited by other college kids, though Shiro and Keith themselves hadn’t been there in a couple of years, since they’d realized they could actually save on money just making their own meals together, plus, Keith was generally a fan of staying in, and Shiro didn’t mind staying home with him. Definitely meant they could have more – ahem – fun together, so that was always a bonus in their eyes. Even more so if they could figure out how to get Lance to join them…

“So. You had housework planned for the weekend, right, Lance? Any chance we could convince you to just… come spend the weekend with us instead?”

Lance inhaled his food too quickly at that, forcing himself to stop and take some time to then clear his airways and sip some water. Shiro looked apologetic, while Keith kept a close eye on Lance to ensure he was okay.

“Why the hell would you say that?” Lance demanded when he could. His voice was a hoarse rasp that made Keith wince to hear it.

“Why wouldn’t we?” Shiro countered.

“You can’t just get my hopes up like that, man, you’ll end up breaking my heart.” Lance returned to his most recent stack of waffles, eyes troubled.

Keith pounced on that and said, “So, if you thought we meant it, would you agree?”

“Are you kidding?” Lance asked, “Anything that gets me out of housework would be a godsend. Plus, you’re both a huge help when studying, and Shiro’s a fantastic cook. It would literally be like a win-win-win. For me, anyway, I’m not sure what you two would get out of it. And therefore, you must be joking,” Lance said, his voice trailing off. And, there, that! It was the stupid matter-of-fact way that Lance seemed to just accept that no one would want that with him that made Keith’s blood boil.

Shiro, though, was calm when he said, “Honestly sounds like it’s a problem for us, if it’s a problem for anyone. But trust me when I say that we would love nothing better than for you to come over to our apartment and ensure you’re actually getting decent sleep and food.”

He and Keith watched anxiously to see what Lance would say. Keith’s brain was already racing to think of alternate ways to ensure Lance was all right. Only about 43% of them involved breaking a law, which he definitely considered a win, because that meant there was a greater chance of Shiro helping him!

“Why do you assume I won’t do those things on my own?” Lance asked.

Shit. He caught onto that way quicker than they hoped he would.

#shklance #shklance fic #takashi shirogane #keith kogane #lance mcclain #vld #vld fic #voltron #voltron legendary defenders #voltron fic #voltron au #shklance au #jessi rambles #mywriting #my writing

50 notes · View notes

inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 5 years ago

Text

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 7: Forget Everything You Know]

Hi y’all! I just wanted to take a moment to thank you all so much for reading and for showing me and my fics some love. You better believe that I see EVERY. SINGLE. reblog, comment, tag, and message, and they mean the absolute world to me! I know that a lot of content creators are frustrated and taking breaks right now, but rest assured you will not be able to get rid of me if even a SINGLE person looks forward to something I write. I’ll finish this fic (eventually), and I’ll finish the next one too (it already has a name!), and I won’t disappear or leave the Queen/BoRhap fandom at any point in the foreseeable future. Lots of love to you all, stay safe, and I hope you enjoy! 💜 💜 💜

Chapter summary: Y/N brings home some friends; Brian attempts an intervention; John draws a line; Roger gets an answer.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @killer-queen-xo @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug @sleepretreat @hardyshoe @bramblesforbreakfast @sevenseasofcats @tensecondvacation @bookandband @queen-crue @jennyggggrrr @madeinheavxn @whatgoeson-itslate @brianssixpence

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

“Smile, everyone!” Your dad peeks through the viewfinder of the Canon F-1 and beams. “One...two...three...say Queen!”

“Queen!” you all shout gleefully. The flash illuminates the dining room, and you blink away momentary blindness. The table materializes back into vision: lobsters, clams, haddock chowder, sourdough bread, fried oysters, pierogis with Vermont cheddar cheese, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes...and, of course, Boston cream pie for dessert.

“Ah, perfection,” your dad sighs contently. “Please continue, Mr. Mercury.”

“Mr. Mercury!” Brian whines, incredulous. “Like he’s got a bloody PhD or something!”

Freddie cracks a lobster claw. He hasn’t taken his sunglasses or wrist-full of clanging bangles off all afternoon. Your parents are profoundly confused by him, but welcoming nonetheless. “I’m a professor of lusciousness. Pay attention and you could learn something.”

Brian rolls his eyes and dunks a hunk of sourdough bread into his chowder.

“So,” Freddie tells your mother between bites of lobster dripping with drawn butter. “Our darling damsel in distress was in the clutches of that horrid, dodgy wanker when none other than our very own Roger Meddows Taylor—”

“You weren’t even there!” Brian protests. “I wasn’t even there! This is, what, a third-hand account?!”

“Eat your soup, peasant. Thank you. Anyway, our beloved Roger comes raging out of nowhere, red-faced, nostrils flaring, a terrifying sight to behold, grabs this guy by his hair and slams his despicable face directly into a marble column. Broken nose, cracked orbital socket, blood everywhere! It was magnificent. I’ve never been more proud.”

“Good for you!” your mother cheers, patting the back of Roger’s hand encouragingly. He smiles at her, warmly, radiantly, like the wildfire he’s always reminded you of. And you marvel at how every human on this earth is made of the same fundamental components—blood and muscles and vessels and nerves, hearts and enigmatic brain matter and ribs, vulnerable parts, armored parts, all webbed together like nature’s own organic circuit board—and yet the marks they leave on you can feel so different: burns, scars, bruises, shadows, imprints that are deep enough to brush bone and never fade.

“Mom, the guy could have died!”

“Did he?” she asks innocently.

“Nope,” Roger says.

“Well then, Mr. Taylor here is a hero in my book.”

“Mr. Taylor!” Brian groans.

“I was petrified he would turn out to be the son of an executive or producer or something and the band would be ruined,” you say. “Fortunately he was just someone’s annoying frat brother from college who already had a reputation for being a sleazebag. So, we were in luck.”

“You were in luck that Mr. Taylor was there,” your mother points out, gazing at him dreamily. This delightful English boy is going to be my son-in-law and give me gorgeous, doe-eyed grandchildren, that look says.

“Yes, a literal superhero,” John says ruefully, sipping a Manhattan. Your dad has a passionate love for mixing cocktails, especially for guests who also happen to be rock stars.

“Mom. Don’t make his ego any bigger, please. I’m begging you.”

Roger snarls around a mouthful of Boston cream pie, sending your mom into a fit of giggles.

“I’m just glad you’re okay, dear.” She smooths your hair. “And that you have people to keep you safe all the way over there across the ocean, and that you’re happy.”

“Yes, your work environment is much improved, isn’t it?” Brian says. “That supervisor you had at the hospital was an absolute bear!”

Your dad strokes his short grey beard. “Well...” he admits. “That may have been my fault.”

Brian’s brow crinkles. “Really?”

Your mom turns to you. “You didn’t tell them?!”

“Oh, is there a scandalous backstory?” Freddie inquires, elated. “Do tell, darling!”

“Once upon a time, in a kingdom far far away—just kidding, it was here in Boston—my archnemesis Patricia and my dad dated.”

Roger drops his fork, appalled. “No!”

Freddie’s nose wrinkles in revulsion. “Why?!”

Your dad rocks back in his chair and laughs loudly, heartily. “She wasn’t always so cantankerous, if you can believe it. She was a sweet girl, wonderful even. But then I met my future wife, and...” He smirks guiltily. “What can I say? The heart wants what it wants!”

You nod along. “And I got the illustrious honor of being an outlet for the frustration stemming from Patricia’s lifelong unrequited love.”

“You saucy minx!” Freddie playfully lashes your mom’s shoulder with a cloth napkin. “Homewrecker!”

She chuckles, not the least bit offended. “People get together under all sorts of strange circumstances, and you know what? You can’t wreck a home if the home wasn’t already half-wrecked before you got there, that’s what I think.”

Roger raises his Patriot’s Punch. “I’ll drink to that.”

Brian clutches his New England Express, bewildered. “Are we...toasting to infidelity?”

“Oh, does that horrify you?” Rog asks sarcastically. Brian grimaces, but dutifully raises his glass.

“We’re toasting to love,” your dad clarifies. “However it comes, as long as it’s true.”

John holds his Manhattan aloft. “To love.”

Freddie clinks his Flying Elvis against the other beverages, including your parents’ wine glasses and your Cranberry Crush. “Cheers!” Then Fred glances at the clock and swiftly polishes off his slice of Boston cream pie.

“Can’t you all stay a little longer?” your mom pleads, collecting plates and gazing longingly at Roger. “This has been so much fun...”

“They have soundcheck at seven, Mom. We have to leave for the stadium soon.”

“Well, before you jet off to your next adventure, can I treat anyone to a long distance call?” your dad asks.

Brian perks up. “Really?!” You know there’s a ring in the future for Chrissie; not an expensive or extravagant ring (not that Chris would want that anyway), but a ring nonetheless. You know because Brian has taken you shopping to help him choose one.

“Of course! You can use the phone in my office. It’s Valentine’s Day, after all. I’m sure there are some lovely ladies back in jolly old England who would be over the moon to hear from you.”

“That would be very much appreciated!” Brian says. “And thank you so much, this has been such a treat, you have no idea how long it’s been since we had a proper homemade meal.”

“I had to rehabilitate the reputation of us Yankees, didn’t I? Now come on, Mr. May, I’ll show you to the office...”

“Mr. May...I like the sound of that!”

“Ten minutes, Bri!” Freddie calls, following them down the hallway. “Then it’s my turn...!”

You begin gathering up the empty glasses, but Roger promptly snatches them away. “No way, Boston babe. You go relax. I’ll help your mom.”

“I think she’s in love with you.”

He grins. “Do you have a secret stepdaddy fetish I could exploit?”

“Oh my god. Roger.”

He snickers and sweeps off into the kitchen. It’s only then that you realize John has disappeared. You check the kitchen, the living room, the hallway, the study, and finally the front porch; John is standing outside in the cold, smoking and watching the setting sun. The sky is threaded with cerulean, rust orange, lavender, indigo. You pull on your coat and go out to join him.

“We’ll make it to Florence one of these days,” you promise John, resting your arms on the wooden, white-painted porch railing. Your mother hung baskets of fresh flowers for the band’s visit, which swing lazily in the breeze. “Crank out a few more hits and we’ll get the record company to add it to the tour itinerary.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice.”

“Are you going to call Veronica?”

He shrugs, frowns, exhales a lungful of smoke into frigid New England air. “I don’t know if I should.”

“You don’t think she’d like that?” you ask, confounded.

“I think she might like it too much.”

“Ohhhhh.” You read his soft greyish eyes, which are faraway and somber, sad even. “I’m sorry, John. You know she’s wild about you.”

“I know it.” He takes a drag off his cigarette. “She’s the first person who ever was, actually. The first person who ever noticed me. Came up to me out of the blue at a disco and asked me to dance, me! So I said yes, like you do when you’re the guy nobody notices. And then I said yes again, and again, and again, until one day I realized...oh, this girl thinks we’re getting married. When the hell did that happen?”

“I noticed you,” you contest.

John chuckles and nods. “You did,” he agrees. “Right away. Tried to win me over when I was too nervous to finish a sentence around you. But that was long after I’d met Veronica.”

“Well, you can’t break up with her tonight. On Valentine’s Day?! That would be traumatic.”

“Agreed.”

“We’ll have a few days in London between the American and Asian legs of the tour. You can think it over and decide what to do then. I’m happy to arrange the getaway taxi if that’s something that interests you.”

“Yeah.” Again, he peers out into the Western horizon, into rising stars.

“John?”

Now he looks to you. He’s a little too thoughtful, too low. There’s something you’re not seeing.

“...Is there somebody else?”

He doesn’t speak; he just stares at you with those velvety azure-grey eyes, drums his fingers against the railing, lets the ash from his cigarette crumble into the snow-dusted Blue Pacific Junipers.

Roger barrels through the front door and out onto the porch. “There you are, Deaks! I thought we were going to have to find a new bassist. Enlist Nurse Nightingale’s mum or something.”

John smirks and crushes the rest of his cigarette in your father’s ashtray. “I suspect you’d do just fine without me.”

“Oh no. No way. Not happening.”

“That’s kind of you,” John says, unconvinced.

“Here, I’ll prove it.” Rog holds out his calloused hand. “If you ever leave, I leave too. Come on, Deaks, shake on it. It’s official. It’s a pact. There’s no Queen without John Deacon.”

Reluctantly, trying not to show how pleased he is, John shakes. “Alright.”

Roger grins triumphantly. “Signed, sealed, delivered. You’re ours for life, baby.”

“Deaky, do you want the phone?!” Freddie yells from inside the house.

John sighs and exchanges a knowing glance with you. “I guess I should say hi.”

“Okay, but quickly!” Rog presses. “We gotta go!”

“So bossy...” John ducks inside; and Roger, though he’s not wearing anything over his pale pink button-up shirt—sufficiently sophisticated to impress your parents—comes to the porch railing to join you.

“You’re not staying out here, are you?” You eye his thin shirt worriedly, the goosebumps rising over his collarbones, his bare forearms where he rolled up his sleeves to help your mom wash the dishes.

He tosses you a mischievous wink. “I’ve got no one to call.”

Roger looks up at the hanging baskets of flowers, plucks out a cerise carnation, and offers it to you. You mean to say something witty, something sardonic, something that will make him laugh; but all your words vanish into cold February air. You take the carnation, smiling helplessly.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Roger whispers.

You just let me know if you ever change your mind, okay?

Okay.

He turns to go back inside the house.

I won’t fall in love with him. I won’t fall in love with him. I won’t fall in love with him.

Then Roger pauses in the doorway. “You coming, Boston babe? I can’t have you catching pneumonia or something. I won’t know how to fix you.”

Oh, you realize, with horror and yet relief, all those grueling lies stripped away. It’s too late.

~~~~~~~~~~

You knock on the frame of the dressing room door. “Hi Bri!”

He glances over from where he sits in front of the mirror, rimming his eyes with inky liner. Soundcheck went swimmingly, and now Queen has thirty minutes until they need to be onstage. You can hear the disembodied reverberation of voices from the waiting crowd through the walls. “Hello, love. Come in.”

“Freddie said you needed to see me. Did you rip a sleeve or something? I brought my kit—”

“No, it’s not that.” He pats the chair beside him. The boys practically always get ready together before a show, but you suspect profoundly introverted Brian is experiencing one of his post-socialization crashes after dinner with your parents. Something about him is tired, very tired, almost drained to empty. “Join me.”

“Sure,” you say cautiously. You shove your medical kit onto the countertop and then reach to feel his forehead. “Are you feeling alright...?”

“I’m fine, love. I just have a favor to ask.”

“Anything.”

Brian sighs deeply, sets down the eyeliner, swivels his chair towards you. “I need you to promise me that you’re not going to start seeing Roger.”

You titter, deflecting, brushing Brian’s hair away from his troubled, angular face. “Well, as the official Queen touring nurse, I see him quite a lot.”

Brian catches your wrist. “I’m being serious.”

Now your brow knits into tight agitated lines. “I’m curious as to why you think that’s something you have a say in.”

“Bloody hell, I’m not trying to offend you—”

“Job well done.”

“Dear, please, listen to me—”

“Eight months,” you hiss through your teeth as you tear away from him. “For eight months I’ve listened and avoided and resisted and ignored and it’s not going away.”

“Oh, fuck,” Brian breathes in despair. “You love him.”

There are tears biting in the periphery of your vision; you don’t want them to be there, but they are. Your voice is hoarse and trembling. “Bri, please don’t.”

Brian shakes his head and motions with his hands frenetically, desperately, trying to make you understand. “Look, sometimes...sometimes the people we love, the people who own us, the people who fucking set us on fire...they’re not the people we end up with. And that’s not always a bad thing. It’s necessary. It’s self-preservation. Because sometimes the people who set us on fire would burn us alive.”

You gape at him, furious, stunned. “That’s just fantastic, Brian. You’re a true romantic. Jesus christ, does Chrissie know about this? Is that why you’re with her, because she’s, what...safe?!”

“No, that’s not fair, Chrissie’s great, she’s steady and supportive and she’ll make a wonderful mother one day, and my parents adore her—”

“Those aren’t reasons to marry someone, Brian!”

“They are!” He leaps to his feet. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you! You have to think about these things, you have to be rational, you have to protect yourself—”

“Why the fuck do you care?” you flare bitterly.

“Because you saved my life.”

“Stop it, I didn’t.”

“You did, I truly believe that. And I want you to stay with the band. And I want you to be happy. But, dear, please, I’m begging you...this is not the way to do it.”

“I’m not going to go out to some pub and drag home a random guy who’s suitably passionless and predictable enough to be Brian-May-approved.”

“That’s not what I’m asking you to do—”

“Because you’re such an expert on relationships!” you shout, exasperated. “Planning to propose to Chris while you’re still secretly pining over some fling from New Orleans, fucking groupies and then having the nerve to mope around guilt-ridden the next morning as if anyone but you was responsible for that decision, and do I say anything about it?! Do I ever say a single fucking word about it to you, or Fred, or Roger, or your future wife, or anybody?! No, because it’s not my life!”

The dressing room door flies open and John storms inside. “What’s going on?!”

You cross your arms and stare at the floor. Brian’s wide green eyes flick to John, to you, back to John. If it was Freddie, Brian would tell him in a second, would try to enlist him in the effort, and it would probably work; but John is a different story. John won’t side with Brian over you, everybody knows that. And John has a talent for sharpening words into blades. “Um. Nothing.”

“I could hear you in the hallway,” John says flatly. “Obviously it wasn’t nothing.”

Brian points to you. “Have you tried to talk her out of this? Maybe you should, maybe she’d listen.”

“It’s not my choice to make, just like it isn’t yours. Worry about your own body count. It seems to be growing exponentially these days.”

Brian scoffs. “Because you’d be so thrilled if she ended up with him, right?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” you demand.

Brian and John glare at each other from across the room. John raises his eyebrows, daring Bri to answer. Brian gnaws his lower lip, but doesn’t elaborate. The air is heavy, tense, electrified.

“Don’t upset her again,” John says darkly.

Brian shows the white palms of his hands in surrender. “Fine.”

John waves for you to follow him. “Come on.” And he slams the door behind you as you both escape into the hallway.

“I’m sorry.” You chase away stray tears with the back of your hands. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to get anyone worked up right before the show...”

“Don’t worry about it. I treasure any excuse to harass Brian.”

You study him, seeking answers, seeking more than you know how to put into words. “Do you think I’m being stupid? If you do, you can tell me.”

“No,” John responds carefully. “I think you’re being hopeful. And I’d like to believe that stupidity and hopefulness are two very different things.”

You smile. “I don’t deserve you.”

“That’s very inaccurate.” He fluffs his hair with his fingertips. “Do you want to touch it before we go on stage?”

You feign demureness. “Hmm...”

“Oh come on. You know you want to. It’s extra voluminous right now, Roger shared some of his magical mousse or whatever. Something way too expensive. You should thoroughly berate him for it.”

You laugh. “I’ll see what I can do.” You comb your hands through his brunette hair, and John’s right; it’s extraordinarily full and soft, and smells like honeysuckles. “You always know how to get me smiling, don’t you?”

“You do insist that I have game. Though I remain skeptical.”

“Good luck tonight. Not that you need it.”

John’s rough thumb lifts your chin, then whisks away a tear you missed. “You’ll be watching, right?”

“I always am.” And that’s the truth; you haven’t missed a Queen show since you met them.

He beams, those gentle grey eyes incandescent. “Then we’ll have an ocean of luck.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Exactly twenty-four hours later, Queen is in New York City.

The thunderous bassline of the opening act shudders through the concrete walls. You’re staring yourself down in the bathroom mirror under harsh florescent lights, your palms gripping the cold rim of a white sink, your eyes shimmering with black and gold shadow, your lip gloss slick and crimson. There’s not a single thing left to do. You’re running out of time.

You breathe in, breathe out, snatch your purse off the floor, breeze out into the hallway.

You can hear the boys’ laughter even before you open the dressing room door. Inside, Brian is tuning his Red Special with his mantis-like legs propped up on the countertop, John is attempting to teach Freddie how to make popcorn in a microwave without setting anything on fire, Roger is scrutinizing his hair in the mirror and frowning as he rearranges it with a comb.

“Hello, darling!” Freddie warbles. “Can I interest you in some delicious and expertly-prepared popcorn?” He opens the microwave, and smoke pours out. “Oh, you bitch!”

“I’ll pass, Freddie.” You glide to where Roger is sitting, knot your fingers through his blond hair, and tug his head back so you can kiss him. He tastes like mint gum and the ghost of smoke and reckless intemperance; he tastes like everything you’ve ever wanted. There are gasps, and surely dropped jaws as well; but you don’t have eyes for them. “Okay,” you tell Roger.

He stares up at you with huge, starry eyes, a dazed grin slowly lighting up his face. “You changed your mind.”

“Come find me after the show.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You move to wipe your blood-red gloss from his lips, but Roger stops you, knits his hand through yours, stands to meet you.

“Leave it,” he murmurs. “I want them to know.”

“Want them to know...?”

His lips touch yours again, smiling and scorching and ravenous. “That I’m yours.”

#roger taylor fic #roger taylor x reader #but you can never leave fic #but you can never leave #but you can never leave series #queen fic

121 notes · View notes

luminous-studiess · 5 years ago

Note

Seeing as you mentioned in one of your last posts that you’ve learnt how to study in the pas semester, I was wondering if you could share with us your tips & tricks, please? I love your blog ❤️

hi!!!!! first of all, thank you so much for the kind words. it always helps when i hear that people like my content, and it’s nice to know when people on studyblr reach out and motivate each other. i hope you’re doing well as well!i guess i have to preface this with the fact that studying in undergrad is very different from studying in law school. also, studying in different undergraduate courses constitutes very different studying styles as well. for me, i took literature, so it was a lot of writing papers and not much memory work. in law school, there was a LOT of memory work. i did really badly for several months because i wasn’t used to studying for those kinds of exams. i may make posts if anyone’s interested on how to study specifically for literature or law classes, but for now, these are general tips on how to study.this is a long-ass post, so my apologies!

HOW TO STUDY!!!!!!! A HUGE GENERAL GUIDE FROM SAM FROM LUMINOUS STUDIES, AFTER ~7 YEARS OF HOMESCHOOLING, 4 YEARS OF UNDERGRAD (AND A MAGNA CUM LAUDE) AND ONE TERRIFYING SEMESTER OF LAW SCHOOL.

FIRST THINGS FIRST: general tips, some life advice, preparation

- actual intelligence matters very little in school. some people learn faster, some take a little more time. being smart in itself does not matter when you don’t work. actual hard work can compensate for a less retentive memory (as i’ve found out over the semester). discipline and a lot of hard work always pay off, even if it seems rocky at first. make the resolve to dedicate a set amount of time to study everyday, even if it’s just an hour or so. a little is better than nothing. - my constitutional law professor (aka my favorite professor) advised one of my classmates to log her work hours. while it seems tempting to set a specific timeslot to get things done, sometimes life gets in the way, and you don’t actually get to work at 3 pm. maybe most of the time you sit at 3 pm is spent fiddling on your phone. to actually track productivity and consistency, time the hours you actively spend studying. put away all your distractions. personally, i like the forest app because it forces me to stay away from social media and lets me use the pomodoro method. on good study days, i get to log my work time in batches of 25 minutes. again, it can be the amount of hours you put in, but what matters is the quality of work you put in. stay consistent. i promise you. it helps- on the study environment: sometimes studyblr convinces you that you need a coffeeshop, an aesthetic library, a beautiful italian garden to get things done. that would be ideal, but most of us don’t have access to that. i suggest you evaluate if you work better in public spaces with a little sound ambience, to hold yourself accountable (coffeeshops, the school library, with friends), or in private, quiet spaces. once you know where you work best, know what keeps you focused. is it tea? a glass of iced coffee? a lofi playlist? a podcast? i find that process a little fun because it keeps the study process a little less dull and uncomfortable, as it often can be. don’t forget to keep it pleasant/rewarding, but note that overindulgence can distract you. trust me, i know this from experience.- study materials: are what you want and what you need. you don’t need anything fancy. personally, i need many colored pens and highlighters because i have a color-coding system for cases and provisions, but for undergrad, my best weapons were just a black ballpen and a nice mildliner. it’s preferential, and just see what works for you. - on study anxiety: i have mental health issues. i’ve been seeing a psychiatrist (and lately a therapist) for depression and anxiety, and it used to be really, really bad, to the point i couldn’t start. i think the best place to start is to find that kind of help if you really have bad mental health. but if it’s the kind of anxiety that stems from being worried that things won’t turn out well, or that there’s too much to do, it’s always best to start, and to remember that even a little, or something imperfect, is still progress. try it for 5 minutes. if you still can’t do it, rest. but sometimes we just need a little push. other things that really calm my anxiety are a good baroque playlist (check out baroque lute/jordi savali’s the celtic viol/bach’s goldberg variations on spotify!!!), jazz, or lofi, and lavender room spray. i also like to use gifs which help you with breathing techniques. you can find them all over tumblr and twitter. it’s also really helpful to ask others for help when you feel stuck. i’ve asked professors for a little consideration and classmates for advice and clarifications when i’m confused. reaching out to other people is often a great way to start the learning process.

- scheduling: i find it hard to keep on top of things, so i’m really thankful to the classmate who added me to a google calendar with all the class assignments. i think it’s a great system for knowing what the assignments are, so google calendar is your friend. for daily tasks, bullet journals help keep me accountable. i have a really simple one. quick and dirty. ACTUALLY STUDYING: methods, tricks, tips- consider the subject. different classes require different methods. some classes like math and chemistry – which, disclaimer, i have very little experience with – require practice problems. for literature classes, this requires much free analysis, annotations, research, and your own interpretations. other classes like history and geology require the memorization of topics. consider what information you need to learn, and how you want to approach it.- TAKE NOTES DURING THE LECTURE. i can’t stress this enough. if the teacher or professor mentions it, it’s probably important. nowadays, for major classes, i mark the topic on the syllabus with a special-colored highlighter that i won’t use for anything else so i know it’s crucial and will probably turn up on an exam. note: if they place special emphasis on a bit of information because it probably WILL turn up during the exam. one of my professors mentioned that a case would probably turn up during the philippine bar exam and guess what. it did. listen to the professor, don’t goof around on twitter (me to my undergraduate self, tbh), take good notes. make the notes into a reviewer during exam season. pass the class.- pre-studying helps. this is mandatory in law school, because mostly, you go to class to regurgitate what you’ve studied (or didn’t study) on your own from the syllabus. for undergrad, however, it helps to give yourself a background on the material so you can engage in the class, and take notes more efficiently. also, as much as possible, do the required reading. you’ll probably do it in one night anyway before the exam, so at least spread your work out and do a reasonable amount weekly.- on that note: if you’re going to rush through the syllabus and do “a semester’s worth of info” in one night (yes we’ve all seen Those Memes) anyway, it will be less of a pain in the ass to actually do the work slowly and consistently every week. trust me. this comes from a procrastinator who’s getting bitten in the ass, so please learn this as early as you can. it saves you a lot of pain later on.- THE CLASS SYLLABUS IS YOUR BIBLE. it’s all there. before classes, go through it. keep it with you during class and annotate it if you have to. some of my friends like to space the syllabus out on a document file so they use the headings for note-making. the syllabus will be your friend during review season.- always learn actively. if you don’t know a word or term, it will always help to google. make notes in the margins. make flashcards so you state information and retrieve it instead of just recognizing it. form study groups. rewrite your notes. engage with what you’re learning and it becomes so much more interesting, and so much easier. - set a time to unwind religiously. breaks are so important to avoid burnout. i like friday nights for unwinding, family dinners, reading, watching series. please rest. REVIEW SEASON: HOW TO COPE. HOW TO PASS. HOW TO CRY AS LITTLE AS POSSIBLE. - exams are scary. i used to enjoy them, until law school, where i’ve been beaten up thoroughly by every exam. but strangely enough, this is where i only learned how to actually study for an exam with huge blocks of information. i realized that this method really helps for undergrad, and probably will get you honors if you stick to a similarly solid method. - study as early as you can. once you know when the exam is, make a study plan. two weeks is a good minimum. sometimes, there are professors and teachers who announce only a week before, which is unavoidable, so honestly. just make a plan. i tend to assign a set number of syllabus pages to cover/study for on each day so i have time to do a second reading/quizzing. - HOW TO REVIEW: remember the class notes? remember the syllabus? those will help you cover everything you need once you schedule. the syllabus is your map for what you need to cover. assume that everything in the syllabus is something you need to go over at least once, so assign a set number of pages/topics per day. the class notes are your guide on what to focus on. note the special topics which have been emphasized by the lecturer. it also helps if you know what parts you’re very unsure about, so you know what to work on again when you have extra time. i tend to make reviewers out of my class notes, which also helps to retain info, because i go over it again. make time to re-read and quiz yourself. - blanking out on exam day? i can honestly assure you that it’s probably because you didn’t sleep enough. you’ve studied the information, but sleep deprivation either makes you fall asleep during the exam (which has happened) or forget what you learned (which has also happened). if you’ve made the time to repeat what you’ve needed to learn, the studying isn’t the problem. i make a rule to try and avoid all-nighters when necessary because sleep is integral in helping you retain information. when i need extra time to study, i go to bed early, and wake up around 3 or 4 am to study some more. it really helps.DEALING WITH FAILURE: - my professor (a huge businessman, constitutionalist, overall a very successful person) told me that he would not get where he is now if he hadn’t failed. failure is growth because you know you’re doing something. the only true “failure” is when you stop trying. some days are hard, some days don’t yield the results even when you work hard. it’s okay. be gentle on yourself. you are still growing.- sometimes i think about the fact that “gifted child syndrome” aka burnout and perfectionism stem from how many smart kids are often praised for their intelligence and not their work ethic. so when they do badly later in life, they think it’s because they weren’t “smart enough” and give up easily. i think much of doing anything entails a lot of embarrassment, a lot of hard work, and lots of failure. it’s so hard to put up with, and it can often be depressing and unhealthy and put you in a bad place. sometimes we need to talk to someone professional, if it gets to that point. but sometimes, it also helps to realize that a little hard work will help us to get where we want to be. - ask for help. i talk to my friends, my parents, and my professors when i’m stuck. it really helps.ok, whew. i know there’s so much more about studying. but i hope this helps for now. please let me know if you guys want more specific study guides. good luck, loves! you got this.– sam

458 notes · View notes

spriggan-tail · 6 years ago

Text

Big Bang Event!

This amazing story was written by the talented @superfreakerz! It was super fun working together to make this piece (with @ccrispy modding us :P) ! We hope you enjoy it :) @nalugruviaevents

Modern/Comedy

Summary: Lucy goes to throw eggs at her ex's house and finds some else is already doing it. She joins the strange, pink-haired boy and gets to know him in the process.

________________________________________________________________ “Run!”

Lucy parked down the street, just for safe measure. Taking a deep breath, she threw her black hoodie on to cover her golden locks of hair, which would only serve to help identify her if left exposed. She couldn’t have that happen. Not when what she was doing was technically illegal.

Stashing her wallet in the glovebox, she grabbed the carton of eggs that was sitting on the passenger seat. She turned on her phone’s flashlight, for she needed to make sure she got the right house. Taking another deep breath to calm her jittery nerves, the girl mustered up some courage before swinging the car door open and heading out into the night.

Lucy Heartfilia was a good person. More than good, actually. She was exceptional. She had straight A’s, never missed a class, and spread kindness through every person she met. But tonight, she was going to channel her inner rebel for some revenge. Tonight, she was going to egg someone’s house.

Not just anyone’s house. Her ex-boyfriend’s house. The sleazy dude deserved it after everything he had done.

Clutching the carton of eggs to her chest, Lucy kept looking over her shoulder to make sure that nobody was around. It was nearly two in the morning, so the chances of someone going on a stroll were slim to none. So far, the odds were in her favor.

As Lucy approached the correct house at the corner of the street, her heart dropped to her stomach as she saw someone else. They were clad in similar clothing as her, black sweats and a black hoodie that shadowed over their face and hid their features.

Lucy stopped in her tracks. What kind of person goes out at that time of night in all black clothing? Only murderers do that!

Then again, I’m out here…”

But that was different. She was there for justice! This person, she had no idea what they were doing.

Swallowing thickly, the girl was about to turn and head back to her car. Perhaps she could get revenge a different way. A less dangerous way that wouldn’t get her in trouble.

But then the person turned towards her.

Lucy stifled a scream, willing her legs to turn back and run. To just run to her car and get the hell out of there.

“Shit,” she heard the person mutter. It was a boy judging from their voice.

Lucy shivered in her spot, sweat dripping down her face. Her stomach felt like a washing machine as the person began to walk towards her. Unfortunately, Lucy wasn’t a fight or flight type of person. She was the kind of person who froze in times like these. All she could do was watch as the boy approached.

He stopped just in front of her. Lucy couldn’t make out any of his features thanks to it being nearly pitch black, along with his hoodie shadowing over his face.

Great, if he hurts me, now I won’t be able to identify him.”

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut. If the guy was going to kill her, she’d rather not watch.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked, shocking her.

Lucy opened her eyes, peering at him again. At his rude tone of voice, the fear that had consumed her before was replaced with irritation. Glaring back at him, she shot back, “Who the hell are you?”

“That’s none of your business!” the boy replied, looking over his shoulders. “Just get the hell out of here! And don’t tell anyone you saw someone here!”

“So you are a killer?” Lucy asked, her brows drooping in concern as she took a fearful step back.

“What the hell? Of course I’m not a killer! Why would you think that?”

“You just said-!”

“I’m not a killer! I’m just egging someone’s house!”

Lucy closed her mouth, her eyes growing wide. Sure enough, glancing down at his hands, she found an egg resting in one of them rather than the gun she was imagining.

“No way,” she breathed out. “Me too.”

“What?”

“Me too!” Lucy showed him the carton of eggs.

“No way! That’s awesome!”

Lucy pointed her flashlight at the house she was going to target. There were already some egg remnants splattered over the wood frames. She turned towards him.

“Wait, why are you egging this house? Do you know Dan too?” she asked.

“Nope. I lost a bet and as punishment, I’m supposed to egg this entire street and try not to get caught.”

“Well, you chose a stupid time to do that then.”

“Oi! You’re out here too, you know!”

“That’s because I know Dan and his schedule. He’s out right now. But with everyone else, I’m sure they’ll be home sleeping, and throwing an egg at their house will just wake them up. You need to do it while they’re at work.”

The boy brought a hand to the back of his head, rubbing it as he gave an awkward chuckle. “Huh. Guess I didn’t think about that.” He glanced towards the house. “So, wanna join me?”

“Okay!”

Lucy set down the carton of eggs on the pavement. Opening it, she grabbed some ammunition. Her heart pounded in her chest, a wave of excitement rushing over her. She’d never done anything like this before, and once she was done, she was never going to do it again. It just wasn’t her scene.

Looking over her shoulders to make sure nobody else was around, the girl chucked an egg at Dan’s house, wincing as she heard it crack against his door. It was fun, but also terrifying at the same time. It was exhilarating.

A giddy laugh slipped past the girl’s lips as she covered her mouth with her hands.

“Wow. This is actually kind of fun,” she said, turning towards her partner in crime.

“It is, huh?” he replied. He threw an egg at the house again. “So, what’s your name?”

“Why?”

“I’d like to know who I’m breaking the law with.”

She giggled. “I’m Lucy. And you are?”

“Natsu! Nice to meet ya, Luigi!”

“It’s Lucy!”

“Yeah, yeah. Lucy, Luigi, sounds the same to me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Shut up.” Grabbing another egg, she furrowed her brows as she threw it as hard as she could at the door. It landed on the doorknob, bringing a grin to her face. Next time Dan went to open his door, his hand would land on the slimy yolk. “He deserves it.”

“So, why’re you egging this dude’s house?” Natsu asked, bringing her out of her thoughts.

Lucy shrugged. “He deserves it.”

“What’d he do?”

“He’s my ex. He cheated on me.”

“Oh. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” Lucy replied, waving him off. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m pissed he cheated on me. You shouldn’t cheat on anyone. But we weren’t together that long so it doesn’t sting that much.”

“Then why are you doing this?” Natsu asked.

“Because the girl he cheated on me with is a girl I know from school. She’s one of the sweetest girls I know, and once she found out he was cheating on the both of us, she was devastated. Turns out they were together longer than we were, so her feelings ran pretty deep. I’m doing this for her. She didn’t ask me to, but the guy deserves it.”

“He sure does,” Natsu replied, throwing three eggs at once. All of them landed on the window. “You don’t think he’ll blame you for it if he calls the cops?”

“If he does, I’ll just tell them I saw you doing it.”

“Oi! That’s just evil!”

“I’m kidding!” Lucy replied, followed by a soft giggle. “Dan won’t go to the cops. He hates them. Not to mention there are a lot of people that hate him, he won't be able to pin it on me.”

“Hope you’re right about that,” Natsu replied. “I can’t afford a ticket, and I especially can’t afford goin’ to jail over a few eggs.”

A content silence fell over the two as they continued to throw eggs at the house. Every crack against the wood frames made Lucy feel a little bit better. She’d never been cheated on before now, but it wasn’t a good feeling, no matter how serious she was with Dan. Revenge was sweet.

And enacting her plan of revenge with an interesting guy at her side was just extra icing on the cake.

“So, do you go to school?” Natsu asked, bringing her out of her thoughts.

“Yeah, I go to Magnolia University,�� she answered.

“Same here! Whatcha majoring in?”

“Creative Writing. What about you?”

“I’m a STEM major.”

“Seriously?” Lucy turned towards him, her mouth parted wide. “You don’t strike me as the type.”

“How so?” Natsu asked with a chuckle.

“Well, I just figured STEM majors are stuck studying all the time and not out breaking the law.”

“Ehh, well, studying’s not really my thing. Breaking the law usually isn’t either, but dares and bets are. I’m just really good at math and science, and my friend told me I should just get my major and then I’ll be able to get any job I want.”

“Sounds smart enough.”

“What about you? You write stories?”

Warmth traveled to Lucy’s cheeks. “Uhh, yeah.”

“You should let me read one!”

Lucy arched a brow. Was he implying that he wanted to hang out after this whole fiasco? Her blush deepened. She wouldn’t oppose to that. However…

“Nope. My friend is going to be my first reader,” she said. Picking up another egg, she aimed for a part of Dan’s house that hadn’t been marked yet. “But if you want, I can lend you some other books that I like.”

“Nah,” Natsu replied with a shrug. “I’m not really into reading. I just wanted to read yours.”

Lucy was glad that it was dark out. Otherwise, her tomato-red face would have been visible.

“W-Well, too bad.” She chucked another egg. “So, what was that bet you lost anyways?”

Natsu snorted. “I was at the pub with my friends- you know the one downtown, Fairy Tail? I was there and my friend Gray dared me to get this one girl’s number.”

“What happened?”

He shrugged. “Somethin’ about my eating habits disgusted her, so she turned me down.”

“Eating habits?” Lucy thought, trying to imagine someone with bad enough table manners that would prevent them from getting a date. “I’m sorry you got turned down.”

“Ehh, I’m not,” he replied. “I wouldn’t wanna go on a date just because of some bet anyways. Especially with some random girl I don’t even know.” He turned to her, and the only thing she could see beneath his hoodie was a wide grin. “Thanks to me losin’ that bet, I got to meet you and end up egging this guy’s house!”

A bright smile spread across her face. “Then I’m happy you lost. Now I have a partner in crime. Literally.”

“Yep! How old is my partner in crime, by the way?”

“Twenty. What about you?”

“Twenty-one. Ha, I’m older!”

Lucy nudged him playfully. “Don’t get so cocky, it’s only by one year.”

“Listen, kid-!”

Lucy slapped his arm. “I’m not a kid!”

Natsu cackled, his mischievous laughter filling the air. Lucy couldn’t help but join in, his laughter contagious. It wasn’t too high, nor too low. It was just right.

Talking to Natsu was easy. Even though they knew next to nothing about each other, she felt like she had known him her whole life. He was down-to-earth, funny, and had a personality that made her want to get to know him even better.

She hoped he would ask her out by the end of the night.

As Lucy was about to throw another egg, a blinding light appeared as a car turned the corner right next to them. Squinting at the car, her stomach dropped to the ground as she recognized it to belong to a certain ex of hers.

“Shit,” Lucy muttered. “That’s Dan.”

“What!?” Natsu replied, whipping his head towards the car, in which a man started to climb out.

“Who are you guys?” Dan asked, taking slow step towards them. “Wait, are those eggs? Are you egging my house?”

“What do we do?” Natsu whispered to her.

“It’s simple,” she replied. “Run!”

Grabbing his hand, she made a dash towards the end of the street. Turned out she could be a flight kind of person as long as she had someone with her. Her heart thrashed around in her chest, partly due to the warm hand locked with hers, but mainly because of the man that was chasing after them. At least Dan wasn’t much of a runner.

“Where are we going?” Natsu asked.

“My car! We’re getting the hell out of here!” she answered. “There it is!”

Reaching the car, Lucy let go of his hand to go to the driver’s door. She unlocked the car for them, sliding into her seat and locking the doors once Natsu was settled. She could see Dan charging towards the car in the rearview mirror. Her hands shook trying to jiggle the key into the ignition before Dan reached them, otherwise he would recognize her.

“Uhh, feel free to speed it up!” Natsu exclaimed.

“I’m trying! My hand won’t stop shaking!” she shot back.

Natsu groaned before taking her hand in his. His large hand covered her smaller one, guiding it steadily towards the ignition. Once it was in, she quickly turned key, bringing the car to life.

“Let’s go!” Lucy shouted, flooring it just as Dan reached the bumper. The tires screeched across the pavement as the two made their escape. As Dan’s form slowly started to disappear from the rearview mirror, a boisterous laugh slipped past her lips in excitement. “We did it, Natsu! We-!”

Glancing over at the boy, she found him slouched over and giving hushed groans and occasional whimpers.

“Natsu?” she asked, her voice laced in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Motion… sickness,” he answered, followed by another whimper.

Lucy blanched. “Motion sickness? Are you serious?” He nodded. “That is the lamest thing I have ever heard.”

“Shut up.”

Lucy turned on the carlight to see how he was holding up. Glancing over at him, she could see that his face was pale and dotted with sweat beneath his hood. His cheeks were puffed out, a sign that he was going to throw up any second.

A shrill squeal escaped Lucy’s mouth as she shoved her hand against Natsu’s cheek and pushed him towards the window.

“Don’t throw up in my car!” she shouted.

Rolling down the window, she peeked at Natsu and watched as he stuck his head out the window. His hood flew back in the wind, revealing pink tufts of hair. Her eyes went wide, her mouth parting slightly.

“You have pink hair,” she said absentmindedly.

“Yeah,” Natsu grumbled in reply. His voice was strained from his sickness. “Probably another reason I got turned down for that date. People aren’t really a fan.”

“I-I like it.”

“You do?” he asked, turning to look at her.

Lucy nodded, ignoring the blush rising to her cheeks. “Pink is my favorite color.”

Natsu’s lips twitched upwards into a small smile. “What about you? I haven’t had the chance to get a good look at you yet. Are you bald or something?”

“Oh, right. And no I'm not bald, idiot.” Lucy brought her hand up to her hood before taking it off. Natsu’s eyes went wide. “Yeah, I’m just a blonde.” She’d heard enough blonde jokes to last a lifetime. She figured he might as well get them out now.

“Your hair isn’t just blonde. It’s golden!”

She flushed, keeping her eyes on the road. “Th-Thanks. So, where do you live? I need your address so I can drop you off.”

Natsu opened his mouth to reply when his eyes grew to the size of golf-balls. Shoving his head out the window, he hurled what felt like all of his insides. Lucy screamed.

“You actually barfed! It’s illegal to throw up out of a car window while driving!” she cried.

“Well then… that’s two illegal things we did tonight,” Natsu replied, his head hanging out the window.

“Forget it! I’ll just bring you over to my place!”

“Wow, Luce. Shouldn’t you at least ask me on a date first?”

“Don’t joke about dates after throwing up!”

They drove in a content silence until Natsu spoke next.

“You know, I never finished my punishment for the bet,” he stated.

“What do you mean?” Lucy asked, peeking at him.

“I was supposed to egg the entire street, but we only got Dan’s.”

“Who cares? I think egging one house is good enough! I’m sure your friends will understand.”

“Nope. They won’t. Only way I can think of getting out of another punishment is managing to get a date like I was supposed to.”

Lucy glanced towards him. “Oh? With that girl from before?”

Natsu rubbed the back of his head, his cheeks starting to match his hair. “I’m sure they’d accept any girl. So, what do you say? Wanna go on a date, Luce?”

Lucy’s cheeks were set ablaze. “A-Are you serious?”

“Yeah of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, I don’t want to go on a date just to get you out of your punishment.”

Natsu sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Luuucy! That was just my attempt to be smooth and you ruined it! Of course that’s not why I’m asking you out, weirdo!”

“Oh. Then yes! I’d love to go on a date with you, Natsu.”

The two shared an eager grin. Their night was crazy, to say the least. To think that such a good thing could come out of getting cheated on and losing a bet made them think that maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

#Fairy Tail #Nalu #Natsu Dragneel #Lucy Heartfilia #Natsu x Lucy #nalugruviabigbang

271 notes · View notes

purplesurveys · 5 years ago

Text

916

What Rhymes With “AIR”?

1. Are the walls of your room bare or do you have things hanging up there? I have some things on the wall, yes. A few paintings, Audrey Hepburn wall decors, and a poster of Nam Joo Hyuk. I used to have wrestling posters but my mom, ever the control freak, removed them because she didn’t like them. Sigh.

2. When’s the last time you went outside to enjoy the fresh air? I went out this morning to take Cooper to the vet for his anti-rabies shot. I didn’t necessarily do it to enjoy the fresh air, but that came along with the experience as well anyway.

3. Do you watch the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air? I started watching it this month actually! It’s super fun and Will Smith’s physical comedy is hilarious, but it isn’t really the type of show I’d binge-watch given how old the jokes and some of the tropes already are. I definitely don’t dislike it, but I just take longer to watch the episodes.

4. When’s the last time it felt like you were walking on air? Sunday, when I had my virtual grad and found out my parents and aunt and uncle got all my favorite food delivered to the house :) We had baked sushi, baked samgyeopsal, Pancit Malabon, and pichi-pichi that day, aaaaahhhhhh.

5. Have you ever been on air, on a radio station? Very briefly. One of our field trips in high school was a visit to a major broadcasting network, and we we were brought to their AM radio studio. The broadcaster on air at the time – one of my favorites of all time – welcomed us and gave us a chance to say hi on air.

6. Have you ever felt like all of the air was coming out of your lungs? Sure, but I guess it’s more accurate to say that I’ve occasionally felt the sensation of my chest increasingly tightening.

7. Has it seemed as though anything has ever disappeared into thin air? Have you ever pulled an idea out of thin air? The first one, yes. I have this stupid ability to drop a certain thing and have it disappear forever; I hate that it happens to me all the time lol.

I can relate with the second situation as well; when I was still in school and had to write essays, reaction papers, anything of the sort, I’d wait till the last possible minute to start working on it since it’s by then that the good ideas start pouring in.

8. Have you ever wanted to be on “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire”? Sure. I’ve enjoyed trivia for as long as I can remember, so the show has always been right up my alley.

9. Do you know a billionaire in real life? No. I know a loooot of CEO kids, kids of MNC owners/executives, and kids of political dynasties though...comes with the environment I grew up in and the schools I went to.

10. Would you like to be an heir or heiress to a fortune? I wouldn’t say no to that.

11. Would you be able to successfully get away if you ever came across a bear? The one thing I keep hearing is to stay very still, so I’d be doing my best to do just that. I got no other survival skills though and if there’s apparently anything more that needs to be done during a bear encounter, then I don’t know of them.

12. Where’s your favorite place to go? How long does it take to get there? Hmm I’ve loved going to many places. My favorite vacation spots so far have been Sagada - that’s a 15, 16-hour road trip from Manila; Vigan - 8-hour road trip; and Palawan - an hour or so plane ride from Manila. If we’re taking nearby places, I like going to coffee shops to unwind and have a pastry or two. I don’t have a favorite one; I just go to whichever one’s the nearest to me at the moment.

13. How often do you err on the side of caution? I keep it at a healthy 50/50. There are times I’m okay with taking a big leap, but if I’m not super invested in something anyway and/or if there’s not a lot in it for me, I play it safe.

14. How often do people say they’re angry with you? My life revolves around being a (very cautious) people pleaser and making sure I don’t piss off people. The only people who have told me they’re angry with me are my mom and girlfriend.

15. Do you own any long underwear? I have never heard of these until today. I’d love to live somewhere so cold I need to wear clothes specifically meant to be worn underneath my actual outfit lol

16. How much Tupperware do you own? I’m Filipino, man. Filipino moms practically make it their life’s mission to collect as many Tupperware containers as they can. I’m pretty sure we have a bunch that we didn’t even own to begin with - just magically ended up in our cupboard after all the parties and gatherings we’ve had hahaha.

17. What color is your underwear right now? Green.

18. Do you still sleep with a teddy bear? I never slept with stuffed animals; I preferred pillows.

19. What pair of your shoes has the most wear and tear? In my first year of college the only shoes I owned was a pair of Keds. Used it for everything and it unsurprisingly ended up being super worn out - soles got detached from the shoe and all that. I think we still have it here at home – still destroyed – but it’s been untouched for a while.

20. Do you like to play Solitaire? It was a great boredom buster game for me for a time, especially when phone apps weren’t all that expansive yet. I haven’t played it in many months though.

21. Do you or your family own a full set of silverware? We do.

22. What do you have to take everywhere with you? Phone, wallet, car and house keys. Because of school I’ve also developed a habit of accidentally bringing my laptop nearly everywhere I go – I brought it to the vet once, lol

23. Would you like to visit Delaware? Yes. Delaware actually stands out in my memory because I remember reading in a kids’ almanac many years ago that it was the first to become a US state. Ever since then I’ve kinda bookmarked the place in my head.

24. Last time you received dental care? December. My tooth had been hurting for a couple of months but it became absolutely unbearable by that month so I had to book an emergency appointment days before Christmas. I felt super bad for the hassled dentist (who doubles as a family friend, which made it more embarrassing)... but at that point I was crying myself to sleep every night and would wake up at 3 AM crying in pain, and I would’ve done anything for the toothache to go away.

25. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be? Somewhere brutally cold.

26. Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego? I’ve never been able to relate to this question, lol soz.

27. Are you satisfied sitting here, taking this survey, or would you rather be elsewhere? I’m satisfied for now. I found more potential leads when it came to job-hunting and I’m not feeling too anxious anymore. I’ve been so focused on looking for corporate communications/PR jobs in the private sector that I forgot about the possibility of applying my skills in something I’m even more passionate about - museums! We have a few government agencies focused on museums, culture, and the arts and I definitely see myself performing in the jobs they offer. It’s even better because it’ll help me get my foot in the door in government positions, and as someone who’s indecisive about law it’ll be a great bridge to start with. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

28. Last time you sat in a barber’s chair? Early March.

29. Do you own any cans of compressed air? I’m not sure...had to look that up. Maybe we do? Idk. Dad will sometimes hoard random grownup stuff from the hardware store so I’m not ruling this one out.

30. Do you have a swivel chair at your desk? Nope.

31. Do you prefer an armchair or a rocking chair? Rocking chair.

32. Would you rather have a beanbag chair or a hanging swing chair in your room? Hanging swing chair sounds so hipster and awesome lol. I’ve had my time with a beanbag chair anyway.

33. What’s the last non-survey related questionnaire that you had to fill out? SSS form.

34. Are there any crimes that you feel make someone deserving of the electric chair? Not really a death penalty kinda gal, but if anyone had to sit in the electronic chair it’ll be people torturing and abusing animals for fun.

35. Do you know anyone who uses a wheelchair? Yes.

36. Do you know anyone who is on welfare? I probably do.

37. Do you play Modern Warfare? Nopes.

38. Do you ever feel like life is unfair? It is, objectively. I’m a little pessimistic when it comes to this.

39. Have you ever visited Times Square? No. I dunno if I wanna go there...it seems so crowded and claustrophobic, not to mention super tourist-y haha. I’d love to visit once just to see the bright lights and the giant ads, but I’d much rather be at museums and historical sites.

40. Do you tell people to “take care” at the end of a conversation with them? Sometimes. I’ve been saying it a lot more often these days, for obvious reasons.

41. Where is somewhere that you would like to move to? Canada. But I also feel like if I moved there immediately it would be such a culture shock in terms of the weather, culture, how far away I am from family, etc. and I doubt I would cope well. I suppose I can move to either Vietnam or Singapore first, as kind of like a baby step.

42. What is something in your home that needs to be repaired? One of the stovetop burners stopped working last night and my dad’s determined to fix that.

43. What kind of sleepwear do you own? I go to bed in just my normal home clothes; I don’t change to anything else.

44. What skin care products do you use? Water. ;) I’m one of the lucky ones lol.

45. Do you have any spyware on your computer? Nope.

46. Do you own any sportswear? What sports? I have athletic shorts from when I played table tennis.

47. Do you like Fred Astaire? Sure. I’ve only seen one movie of his (Funny Face) and he was a delight in that.

48. How long does it take you to prepare a meal? I only ever make instant meals, oops.

49. Do you know anyone named Pierre? Yes, Eva’s youngest sister is a Pierre. I’m just not sure if it’s also the same spelling.

50. Are you going nowhere fast? I hope not. I’m giving myself a quick break for now after studying for 18 years straight but like I’m not out of ambition or anything like that at all.

51. How often do you have a nightmare? Not very. They only show up when I’m going through a depression. My last nightmare was two or so years ago.

52. How often are you able to catch something in mid-air? It’s unpredictable with me. Some days my reflexes are great but sometimes I’ll just be so clumsy.

53. What do your lawn chairs look like? Brown and wooden.

54. How many chairs are at your dining/kitchen table? Six; just right for our family of five.

55. Favorite type of footwear? Sneakersssssss.

56. When’s the last time one of your senses were impaired? From what? My left eye still gets irritated from time to time. We never really found out what’s wrong with it; my first checkup happened on the day before lockdown, so we never got to go back. When it starts to act up, I usually have no choice but to wait for it to go away.

57. Have you ever been in a hot air balloon before? No. I’ve been to hot air balloon festivals though. That’s enough for me haha; I’m not desiring to be in one and be up in the sky.

58. Do you have a good health care plan? My parents do for us kids.

59. Last time you went to the hardware store? Months ago.

60. Have you ever played foursquare before? No. I thought that was just a website. Oops.

61. Do you own any types of eyewear? I’ve worn a pair of glasses since I was 11. I had needed them much earlier but my mom always thought I was being a sissy and just ‘wanted’ glasses to fit in with other kids. It was such a stupid mindset, and it was so stupid of her to not believe her kid WHO WAS STARTING TO NOT SEE. It was only when I took an eye exam at the school clinic and the school wrote her a letter that she finally believed me, but I had been suffering for a while and could barely read the chalkboard for like two years, which definitely affected my grades.

62. What brand of cookware do you have a lot of? Not sure about brands.

63. Nothing can compare to: Having a complete, loving, and supportive family.

64. Have you ever worked in a childcare center? I haven’t.

65. Do you have a “beware of dog” sign on your gate? Nah. I usually say it myself. Kimi never got used to strangers.

66. Have you ever attended daycare as a child? I guess you can say that? It wasn’t daycare per se but some malls used to have play areas/centers and my mom used to drop me off in those while she ran errands for a few hours. Those aren’t too common nowadays because I guess it’s more dangerous to leave your kids now, even with attendants, but they were a fun part of my childhood.

67. Are you very aware of your surroundings? I’m honestly a little ditzy so no. I always need a more responsible, more street smart friend by my side especially when I’m going somewhere unfamiliar.

68. Have you ever had an au pair or a nanny before? We used to have househelp, but we never saw them as nannies. A vast majority of them never met my mom’s (extremely high) expectations and quit in a few weeks or months, sometimes even days; the few ones who did eventually wanted better lives for themselves and resigned after a few years, which we didn’t stop them from doing. At some point my mom gave up having help around and realized that ultimately, she’d rather clean up and do chores her way.

69. Do you know anyone who has had an affair? Yes.

70. How much are you willing to spend on airfare? I’ve never bought my own ticket so I don’t know how much they’re supposed to be on average...but I imagine I’m willing to pay a lot of money if it means going to the destinations of my dreams.

71. Who do you care about the most? The friends that I count as family.

72. Are you more likely to choose truth or dare? Truth. I’m too shy to do dares and I’ve never had a problem telling the truth anyway.

73. Have you ever seen the Blair Witch Project before? Yes, a few times.

74. Do you like the name Claire? Would you spell it with or without the I? I love it, it sounds elegant and graceful and it’s one of my favorite names. I prefer it with an I – I don’t know any Clares, actually.

75. Last time you went to a fair? Last week of January.

76. What can be done to make life more fair? Ending world hunger and poverty and making education accessible for all.

77. How much are you willing to spend on cab fare? Not much. Cab fares should be fair after all.

78. Do you have a lot of flair? To some extent, I guess. I’m certainly not dragging myself down haha.

79. Do you own flare jeans? Nopes.

80. Is there a glare on your computer screen right now? There isn’t.

81. When’s the last time someone glared at you? Sometime in the last week would be a safe guess. My mom will sometimes communicate through glares and I’ve picked up the habit from her as well.

82. What type of hair do you have? (color, length, texture, etc) How often do you wash it? It’s black, quite thick, a bit on the wavy side, and has a tendency to get frizzy when it’s humid. Length-wise, it currently reaches just my collarbones. After a rebonding disaster around a decade ago my hair got a bit dry and it never really recovered from that, so I need to wash my hair with a giant blob of conditioner every time I take a shower otherwise it would get dry and hard.

83. Do you know the difference between a rabbit and a hare? I know hares are larger, but that’s about it.

84. Do you like to eat eclairs? LOVE them.

85. What do you consider to be your lair? My car has served as my safety bubble for so many depressing days in college. That’s why I got a little heartbroken when my dad told me he might have plans to sell it to my aunt (his sister).

86. A female horse is called a mare. What is a male horse called? A baby horse? Stallion; foal. Thank you, kid’s almanacs haha.

87. Have you ever used Nair before? Did it work? I used Veet in middle school when razors still scared me. It worked, but it took a whiiiiile and sometimes it wouldn’t even take all the hair off, so eventually I just started shaving.

88. Has anyone ever told you to “grow a pair”? No, and no thanks.

89. What is something that you own a pair of? Dogs.

90. What is a rare quality that you have? Other people will have to answer that. They’re the ones who see me and get to decide what’s rare about me.

91. Last food you pared? I don’t think I’ve done that.

92. Do you know someone who is a debonair? Sure.

93. Do you like to scare others for fun? No.

94. What is something that scares you? The idea of being in a plane crash, for one.

95. Do you like Sonny and Cher? Can’t say I’m a fan or that I’ve listened to anything of theirs.

96. Do you know how to share? Do you like to share? Sure. The only thing I’m a little selfish about is my food lol.

97. Have you ever played a snare drum before? A few times before, yes.

98. What do you do with your spare change? I give them to the tambays who help me get out of parking spots. That or I use it to buy food in school, since everything in UP’s cheap enough to pay with coins.

99. Do you know how to put on a spare tire? No. I’m interested to learn though.

100. Have you ever gotten a spare while bowling before? Yep, it’s happened a few times.

101. When’s the last time you wished someone would spare you the details? A week ago.

102. Do you win games fair and square? Sure. I’ve only cheated once and that was on an exam.

103. Do you know how to find the square root of something? Not anymore. I do have a bunch of perfect squares still memorized, though.

104. What are the characteristics of a square shape? Four equal sides that are also right angles.

105. Have you ever been called a square before? No. I don’t know what that means either, so if I got called that I wouldn’t know how to react.

106. Do you prefer the elevator or the stairs? Elevator.

107. Do you ever stare at other people? Only if it’s a bizarre situation. Once when this drunk guy got arrested in BGC and was being physical with the police, I stared and watched the whole thing. I do try to look away for most scenarios though.

108. How often do you swear? A few times a day.

109. Do you ever “swear on your life”? It’s not a saying that I commonly use, no.

110. What do you like to “tear up”? Eh, I don’t really like tearing up things.

111. What type of wares would you sell? Not interested in sales or business, so that’s a pass for me haha.

112. What kinds of clothing do you like to wear? I like wearing whatever’s trendy, as long as I genuinely like the look.

113. Have you ever had a pregnancy scare before? Never. [a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

#survey #surveys

1 note · View note

gracewithducks · 5 years ago

Text

Strange Traditions (A Christmas Eve Sermon)

There is a man in Ohio who creates artwork out of chewing gum; he shapes gum in tiny little sculptures… using nothing but his mouth.[1] There’s a couple in Tokyo who recently went viral for posting pictures of their cats, which isn’t too unusual, except that the cats are wearing hats – bunny ears and crowns, Viking helmets and wigs – all kinds of hats made from the hair those cats shed around the house.[2]

And I’ve realized we all have weird things we do, things that make no sense, that others find strange or even a waste of time… but it brings us joy, so we do it, even if they don’t understand.

Some of us dress up like Star Trek characters. Some of us study the Elvish language of the Lord of the Rings. Some of us love to bake cookies and cakes, even when everyone we know is on a diet. Some of us read the same books over and over again. Some people make works of art out of beach sand and sidewalk chalk, even knowing it’s all going to wash away. Some people train for marathons, or jump out of airplanes, or collect stamps or build ships in bottles.

As for me, I knit stockings.

On its surface, not that strange. It all started innocently enough: my grandmother always knit stockings for our whole family: generations of stockings, each one unique, each one knit with love. And we love those stockings. As a kid, opening our stockings on Christmas Day was almost more exciting than opening the presents under the tree. Under the tree you’d get the usual pajamas and socks and, if you’re really lucky, that one thing we’d hoped and wished for all year. But the stockings were a free-for-all of surprises: candies and hairbows, puzzles we didn’t know existed, books we didn’t know we wanted to read, games and puzzles and funny little toys that sometimes were more fun than the big ones under the tree.

Stockings are an important part of our Christmas traditions. But when I was starting my own family, my grandma let me know that, because of the tremors in her hands, she couldn’t knit anymore. It was heartbreaking for her, but it was also nerve-wracking for me – because as the only other knitter in the family, the job of making stockings was handed down to me.

And when I say that I knew how to knit, I mean that my grandma – the same grandma – had taught me how to knit a potholder when I was about twelve years old. I don’t think I even ever learned to purl, just to knit – straight knit – the end.

But my grandma handed down her knitting needles and yarn, and I resolved to do the best I could.

I started working on my daughter’s stocking, the first stocking I’d ever made. And because I wasn’t so smart, I didn’t start working on the stocking until after she was born – which was about two months before her first Christmas. I still remember frantically knitting whenever anyone came to visit and offered to hold the baby; I remember wearing my daughter strapped in a Baby Bjorn and dancing around the living room, trying to keep her happy, while I knitted behind her back.

Somehow, I finished that stocking. And the even bigger wonder is that it actually looks like it belongs. It’s not perfect, but none of them are; they’re all made with love anyway.

When my husband and I found out we were expecting again, I knew I needed to plan another stocking. But because I’d only made one stocking before, I wanted to practice, to try following my notes and see if I could do it again. So I decided that, as a joke, I’d surprise my husband by making a stocking – not for a family member, but for Doctor Who. And if you don’t know who Doctor Who is, that’s okay; he’s a character in a British sci-fi show, and Doctor Who always has a Christmas special – a Christmas special which actually airs on the BBC on Christmas Day.

Since the Doctor always shows up for Christmas, then, I decided to make him his own stocking, with a picture of his time machine on it. And from that one stocking, a new tradition was born.

Yes, I made stockings for all of my children. But I’ve made many more than that. Every Christmas, I surprise my husband with another silly stocking for his collection, a stocking based on something he loves. We have Iron Man and Captain America; we have Harry Potter and Thing 1 from Doctor Seuss; we have a stocking for Despicable Me’s Gru, and for the Staypuft Marshmallow Man, and even Mickey Mouse.

Along the stairway to our house is a wall of stockings. My husband isn’t surprised to get a new stocking each year; he looks forward to them – and that year’s design is always a secret – and I so much love the planning, creating, and surprising him.

It’s a strange tradition, I know. Whenever I explain it, I always get some funny looks. People always want to know if I make my whole family new stockings every year (I don’t) or whether my husband gets presents in all those stockings – (he doesn’t).

Even my own extended family is confused. Earlier this year, my brother was over to visit, and he gazed up at our stocking collection, looked at me, and said, “You know, there are – other – things you can make, right?”

Of course I do. I make other things. I love making things. But I really, truly find joy and delight in making those novelty Christmas stockings – even if no one else gets it. I love our strange little tradition. It doesn’t have to make sense. It doesn’t have to follow the rules.

Sometimes I imagine – and to be clear, this isn’t in the bible; it’s my own imagination – but sometimes I imagine that, when God was creating humans, when God had the idea to create these free but flawed beings who would live in God’s creation – I imagine an angel walking up, looking at what God was making, and saying, “Are you sure that’s what you want to make? It looks messy, and loud, and it’s probably just going to break all your stuff.”

And when God nods, and the angel wrinkles his nose and says, “You know – there are other things you can make, right?”

And God’s like, “I know. I’ve made other things. I enjoy making other things. But these are different; each one is different, unique, and I delight in planning and creating each one – and maybe they’re messy, and maybe it doesn’t make sense… but love doesn’t have to make sense.”

And when God was planning to come down at Christmas, to get down and play with those unlikely and perplexing creations, to shrink to our size and play by our rules, so that we might see God’s love even more – when God said, “This is my idea: I’ll go down there as a baby” – I imagine that same angel wanders by and says, “Really? That’s your plan? Haven’t you learned anything?”

And God says, “It doesn’t have to make sense. Love doesn’t make sense. But it brings me joy. And that’s enough.

This is the lesson of Christmas: that God’s love for us doesn’t make sense – but God loves us anyway. God loves us too much to stay away, but God loves us enough to come down to our level, to squeeze infinity into an infant, to subject God’s self to cold, to poverty, to grief and hunger and pain – so that when we go through suffering, we know we are not alone.

God loves us enough to do the unusual, the bizarre, the impossible: to come and be with us.

And it doesn’t make sense. But some of the most important things we do in life don’t make any kind of sense: like telling your family to split the last pieces of pie when there isn’t enough to go around, and you tell them you didn’t feel like pie tonight anyway; or a grown adult getting down on the floor to play Legos or Barbies, or folding yourself down to fit on a playground slide; it’s driving for hours just so you can have dinner with your family, or giving a few dollars to the stranger at the side of the road, or inviting a stray animal to share your home and be your family; it’s sitting with someone who’s sick, even if they don’t know you’re there; telling your mother-in-law the biscuits really don’t taste burned at all, or going to your friend’s favorite restaurant even if you don’t like it. It’s buying coffee for a stranger; it's practicing for hours to bring music to worship, even knowing the beauty is fleeting – just a few moments and it’s over and gone; it’s gathering to worship a God we can’t see, celebrating a baby king sleeping on the hay, lighting candles and singing about heavenly peace on an earth that’s far from any kind of peace at all.

There are things we do that make no sense, and we wonder how much they matter – but they’re done from love, so maybe those things that don’t make sense are the ones that matter the most of all.

Love that doesn’t make sense – and love is what Christmas is all about.

This so familiar story of Christmas, this story which makes us comfortable and nostalgic on nights like this – this story is in fact a strange tradition: a tradition of looking for God in the cold, the hungry, and the helpless, in the most unlikely corners of a dangerous and perplexing world.

May the God who delights in you, may the God who loves you enough to be born in Bethlehem – may that God bless you, and may you know that you are loved. And may you too love even when it doesn’t make sense, seeing beauty where others see nonsense, bringing peace into the most unlikely places of all. May we all hold onto this strange tradition of generous, extravagant, beautiful, unlikely love.

God of strange traditions, God of risk-taking and self-sacrificing love: we are so thankful for the tradition, the story, the truth that brings us here tonight. We are grateful that you loved us into creation, even when it didn’t make sense; we are thankful that, when we were lost and cold and alone, you came to meet us right where we are. Meet us here tonight. In Jesus’ name we pray; amen.

[1] https://www.ripleys.com/weird-news/annual-2012-gum/

[2] https://mymodernmet.com/hair-cat-hats-ryo-yamazaki/

5 notes · View notes

madamslayyy · 6 years ago

Text

You Want A What? (Trevante Rhodes x Reader)

Pairing: Dad!Trevante Rhodes x Black!Reader

Warnings: None, lil Angst if you squint

A/N: So I have no clue why I even wrote this but here we go. It’s a continuation of my previous fic Cake which you can read Here. Hope y’all enjoy it, let me know what y’all think!!

Trevante:

Malik:

Diane:

~*~

“Momma, are you sterile?” Your son, Malik asked, at the breakfast table. It was a beautiful Saturday morning and the three of you (your son, your husband, and yourself) were sitting at the dinner table currently eating breakfast as a family for the first time all week due to you all having conflicting schedules.

“Sksksksksks aaaaaaahhh,” Your husband, Trevante, burst into a fit of giggles, sinking down in his chair and clutching his side.

“Lik, you always keep it interesting, I’ll give you that,” he said fist bumping his son. You didn’t share his amusement.

“Keep laughing it up Chuckles and see what happens,” you said rolling your eyes as he continued to laugh at your empty threat.

“Honey, why would you ask me that? Where did you get that from?” You asked turning to your son seriously.

“We learned about it in Sex Ed. They also said statistically African American and Hispanic communities are more likely to have two or more children during their lifetime if given the opportunity plus all my friends have siblings. Look at Diane, her parents just had a baby-“

“Slow down Gregor Mendel, you think just because your girlfriends got a new baby brother then I’m obviously sterile,”

“Well... yeah...”

“Then how did you get here?” You knew you’d got him there.

“I could be adopted...”

“Ha! Not looking like that you not! Face it, lil man, you look just like your pops. Except for that line up maybe. You got ya Mama’s hairline, son, nothing I can do about that,” Tre laughed ruffling Malik’s hair.

“Yeah he also got your big ass head, which I had to push out! Don’t believe me I can show you the video-

“NO!” Malik and Tre called out in unison. No one wanted to see the birthing video. It was not a pretty sight.

“What I thought. Malik, why you suddenly so cursious about this? Somebody tell you that you were adopted? I bet it was yo dumbass uncle, he always-“

“No it wasn’t Uncle Jaime, I just.... thought it’d be nice you know.... to have a little brother. Diane has so much fun with hers, and she loves him, and her and her siblings are so close, and-“

“Since you love their family so much why don’t you let them adopt you, I can send them the legal papers today and have it finalized by Monday morning. You and Diane might have to break up though. Can’t date your sister, Lik, that’s white people mess,” you laughed but your son didn’t seem to share your amusement.

“El. Oh. El.” Your son deadpanned.

“Why now? You do realize if you did have a sibling now, there’d be a 14 year age difference between you two.”

“15 years actually babe, his birthdays in August, that’s less than 9 months away.” You chimed in with your husband.

“Okay, that’s fine with me.” Malik said finishing his pancakes.

“They’ll be a lot of crying. Dirty diapers. Less attention. You’ve been an only child your whole life, you ready to give that up?”

“Yep.” You and your husband looked at each other, quickly realizing he was serious about this.

“Okay well I think that’s enough baby talk for breakfast. Malik go get dressed before you’re late to Soccer practice,” you said picking up your and his finished plates and taking them to the sink.

“Tre you done?” You asked.

“Yeah, thanks.” He said handing you his plate. You could tell by the look in his eyes, he was still thinking about the prior conversation.

Twenty minutes later and your husband was gone to drop off your son at Soccer practice. The two of you had a routine that whoever cooked breakfast, the other one had to drop him off and pick him up from Soccer practice and today it was Tre’s turn at the latter.

You were currently in your study, going over the evidence the DA’s office had supplied for your latest case but your mind was on anything but. You and Tre had never really talked about more kids. As soon as you’d had Malik you went straight back to work for your law firm, and Tre, being a book editor and writer, was able to mostly work from home allowing him to pick up most of the baby rearing slack. The two of you loved Malik to pieces and didn’t feel the need to have another because you both were too busy pouring love into him.

Knock, knock

“Hey, you uh, you busy?” Tre said peaking his head through your study door.

“Nah not really. Can’t concentrate anyway.” You said taking off your readers and massaging your eye.

“You thinking about what I’m thinking about?” Tre sighed as he sank into one of the plush chairs in your study.

“If what you’re thinking about was our son enlisting our reproductive organs in his scheme for a sibling this morning.... then yes.”

“God, why’d you have to word it like that?Makes it sound so...”

“Technical?”

“Yep,”

“Well that’s how I’ve been trying to approach this... don’t wanna get too attached to the idea y’know.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because Tre... look at us. We’re past that stage. Past dirty diapers and kindergarten and... and...”

“Being parents?”

“We’re already parents.”

“You know what I mean. I love Malik but the boy’s mature for his age. Always has been. And he’s got his wits about him. We never really had to go through it with him like most kids.” Tre sighed.

“I know, he’s a great kid. We really hit the jackpot with him, why try to make lightening strike twice?” You said rubbing your temples.

“So you don’t want more kids?”

“Never said that.”

“Then what do you want?”

“What do YOU want? You’ve been pretty stoic about this whole thing.” You countered.

“I want us to be honest with each other for once. We’ve haven’t talked about it since... you know....” You did know but you didn’t want to talk about it.

It had happened when Malik was six years old. You and Tre were finally beginning to get into the groove of parenthood when you’d started missing your period. You felt sick constantly and the likeliness of the symptoms to your first pregnancy were uncanny.

You took the test and it was positive so naturally, you and Tre began to prepare. You were in the midst of one of your biggest cases to that date and wanted the first ultrasound to work for both you and Tre’s schedule all while balancing a second grader as well.

You were three months pregnant and due for your first ultrasound but meetings for your case and Tre’s own workload with a new book deal kept causing the two of you to reschedule. And reschedule. And reschedule. And before you knew it, you were five months pregnant but your belly hadn’t expanded barely an inch. You knew something wasn’t right.

On a haphazard will you went to the doctor without him. Turns our you weren’t pregnant. You never were. But you were sick. You had intestinal problems that were causing the disease to manifest to the rest of your body, causing your fatigue, vomiting, loss of period, everything. You were upset. You cried yourself all the way from the doctors office to your home and then there as well. When Tre finally got home with Malik, you took it out on him. Called him everything you could think of. Screamed, yelled, threw things. Finally when he realized there was no reasoning with you, he took Malik and left you.

You thought it’d be temporary, that he would eventually come home. He didn’t. A couple of days turned into a week and you eventually caught him dropping Malik off at school. You demanded the two of you talk.

“Where have you been staying with my son?!” You asked hastily after Malik was safely in the classroom though it wasn’t without a fight. He clung to you the second he saw you and started to cry, forcing you to stop your potential he’ll storm you’d had planned for your so-called husband and comfort your son.

“We’re not doing this here.” Tre said roughly, walking back to his Silverado. You’d thought he was walking away from you and the conversation when he held the passenger door open, waiting for you to get in. You got in silently.

The two of you rode in silence until he pulled up to the nearest coffee shop he saw. You sat down thinking the two of you were about to start but he headed straight for the front, and began to order. Only when he finally came back with his large black coffee extra expresso and your large (Y/F/D) were you finally able to get a word through to him.

“Where have you and Malik been Tre?”

“My sister’s.”

“Why haven’t you answered my calls? I am his mother.” You demanded.

“You think I don’t know that? You don’t think I haven’t been at my wits end the last few days trying to calm Malik down because he thought his mom had lost his mind. You’re an amazing mother but I won’t let anyone traumatize my son like that.” Tre said heavily and you knew you’d seriously messed up.

“I’m.... sorry. I was wrong. I never should have brought that around Malik. Or treated you li-

“This isn’t about me,”

“Yes it is. I love you Tre. And what I did to you wasn’t love. That’s no way to treat a stranger on the street, let alone my husband. And for that I apologize.” You reached over the table to hold his hand and you could literally feel how tense he was.

His jaw was set and he kept his eyes trained on your hand encasing his own. You felt your heart sink that maybe this really was it for you two until he finally gripped your hand back in acceptance.

“So are you going to finally tell me what’s really wrong with you? Since you’re not...,” Tre trailed off.

“Pregnant?”

“Yeah...”

“My lower intestines are failing and it’s wrecking havoc on the rest of my body. I have to have surgery to correct it or I won’t be here much longer.” You said solemnly.

“Shouldn’t you be in a hospital?”

“They can’t legally detain me there.”

“Damn it Y/N, this isn’t about legality for once, it’s about your health! When is your surgery?”

“.... In four days...” Tre stood up at this, nearly knocking the contents of the table to the floor.

“Why didn’t you tell me? All those texts and voicemails and you never once mentioned this?!” He walked out of the cafe and you followed behind him. You watched him from a distance not sure what he might do. You could see tears streaming down his face.

You wrapped your arms around his middle and hugged him while he buried his face into your hair and cried. You didn’t notice when the tears started to fall from your eyes as well, soaking his shirt.

“Tre...”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t wanna be the black people crying in the Starbucks parking lot,” you quipped causing him to chuckles.

“C’mon, lets go home,” Tre sniffled, opening the door for you. You got in and waiting while he got in on his side then the two of you pulled off.

“Aye, Y/N,”

“Hmmm?”

“Don’t you ever keep something like this from me again. If you’re sick, you gotta tell me. We in this together, right?” Tre took your left hand in his right and intertwined them, kissing the back of your hand.

“Right.”

“I don’t want another,” you said quietly, coming out of your thoughts.

“Are you sure, baby?”

“Yeah I’m sure. I love Malik to death. And you as well. You two are enough for me.” You smiled as Tre walked around behind you, kissing your neck.

“Great because I’ve got the perfect way to get Malik off this whole sibling kick,” Tre mumbled into your pulse.

“Hmmm? And how’s that?”

“We get him a Pitbull,”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!”

~*~

So I’m tagging my lol Trevante taglist, one day I’ll make an official one for each person i wrote for but for now here goes

Taglist: @queennanayaa @chaneajoyyy @wawakanda-btch @killmongerthiskoochie @theunsweetenedtruth @blackgirloneshots @blmforeal @erikkillmongerstan @jozigrrl @quietstorm-73 @sailorsenshi420 @wakandamama @mxearth @chefjessypooh @macfizzle @chasingsunlight @dameshaemonique @rubiesandravens @raysunshine78 @melaninmarvel @melanisticroyalty @softnani @vibranium-soul @bartierbakarimobisson @teheeboo @lifelover4u @youreadthatright @doublesidedscoobysnacks @blackpinup22 @darkangelchronicles @thehomierobbstark @cinki-the-black-goddess

#trevante rhodes #trevante rhodes imagine #trevante rhodes x you #trevante rhodes x reader

217 notes · View notes

ppalliwabwa-blog · 6 years ago

Text

outta my head l.jh

Back and forth, can’t control it Seems like you’re not interested in me at all Everyday waiting all day Still baby, I like you a lot, like crazy lee jihoon (woozi) x reader

outta my head - somi

a/n: this is my first ever imagine, drabble thing (idk the terminology sorry!) so if it’s bad i’m sorry, but please enjoy!

Warings: ANGST there is like no fluff in here, swearing, mentions of alcoholic beverages.

Sorry, let me just space out a bit,

Jihoon was usually a fresh breath of air for you, an escape from reality, your friend. He was always there for you and you were the same. But ever since you two went to the movies together it wasn’t the same.

“Hey, are you okay? I know you already saw Black Panther, I told you we could watch another movie.” Jihoons notices your frequent signs and the side stares you give him.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine just waiting for the best part, ya know.” Playing it off as being distracted was the easiest way to get you off of his mind.

It’s not easy to get him off of your mind, I mean he’s Lee Jihoon for crying out loud. He was rather reserved in public and preferred staying inside than going out with you and you treasured that. Because when you were behind closed doors he would laugh as loud as possible and strangle you in hugs after pretend fighting or reenacting a scene from a cheesy movie. It was perfect.

My once quiet heart is now acting up. Over meaningless texts, I go up and down

Jihoon: Hey.... Can we hangout today? We haven’t seen each other in a while, and I miss you.

It was little texts like these that made your heart race. Simple but special. It showed he cared for you.

Am I in your head too? Or am I just mistaken? I’m getting tired now

But it was also little texts like these that made you feel hope, hope that he loved you as much as you did. Texts like these made your heart race. Made you wonder if you should send that confession texts, or kiss him while he’s talking to show that you like him so much.

But you didn’t.

My breathing gets rough, feels like I’m tipsy

Being drunk with Jihoon wasn’t a new thing, it helped you both relax (most times) and took your mind off of work and exams.

But drinking with Jihoon wasn’t always so calm.

“You know what? FUCK YOU LEE JIHOON! I don’t want to see your scrawny, skinny, short ass anyways!”

“Fuck you Y/N! I can’t believe I became friends with such a bitch!” Jihoon throws down his bottle of cheap beer as it shatters on his fake wood flooring. “You’re just jealous because my girlfriend is getting more of my attention than you ever will!”

Girlfriend? Jihoon tells you everything, well mostly everything. He never told you he had a girlfriend or that he’s been seeing her for 6 months.

“Well since you’re keeping secrets from me, and you obviously hate me, I’ll just leave!” You grab your phone from his coffee table and grab his jacket you borrowed a few weeks back and never returned. “Have fun with your WHORE girlfriend!” You ran out the door and as far away from Jihoon as possible.

You only fight like this when you’re drunk and it usually ends in you two apologizing while hugging and crying ending it with a cuddle session. This time it didn’t, because Jihoon had a new girlfriend.

Seems like you’re not interested in me at all Everyday waiting all day. Still baby, I like you a lot, like crazy

Y/N: Jihoon, I’m sorry for calling your girlfriend a whore. I was drunk and didn’t know what I was saying. I don’t even know her, I’m sure she’s lovely, I mean she has to be if she makes you this happy.

READ 3:04 PM

Y/N: Jihoon, I’ve said I’m sorry, I left you fucking chocolates on your doorsteps and a written apology on paper! With a pen! What more do you want from me?

READ 4:09 PM

Y/N: I know you’re reading these, you’re not slick. I’m coming over, don’t act surprised.

DELIVERED

Back and forth, can’t control it

“Y/N, she, she broke up with me!” Jihoon sobs into your chest like a baby, crying over his now ex-girlfriend. “What is so bad about me, I thought I was a good boyfriend?”

“You are, and a great friend-”

“Then why did she break up with me?! Tell me that!” You can’t say anything, you just hug him tighter as he stains your shirt with his tears.

Can’t get you out my head, And my mind and my body and everyway

Fights would happen more often than they did before between you and Jihoon. They went from monthly to weekly to daily. Your love for Jihoon never left, it couldn’t, it was hard to not feel jealous at all of his new girlfriends.

“Wanna see my new girlfriend?” Jihoon jumps up excitedly ready to show you his new partner.

“Another one? Aren’t you tired of scrolling through Tinder every week just to find these 2 date girlfriends?” You chuckled to yourself while scrolling through Instagram tired and jealous of his new “One Night Stands.”

“Whatever. Her name is Taeyeon, she’s a Law Student. A Law Student!!”

“Yeah I get it, but she’s not good news, I’ve heard she cheats on all of her boyfriends.” That was a lie, but you couldn’t lose Jihoon.

“You don’t know that it could be an accident!” Is he fucking serious? You can’t cheat on accident.

“Jihoon, I’m telling you it’s not a good idea. Focus on your studies.”

“God, what happened to you? We used to hang out every day, we would laugh together and watch movies. Why’d you change?” Does he know?

“I didn’t change, I’m just stressed.”

“Bullshit. You hate all of my girlfriends and continue to ignore, this is the first time in 3 weeks that we’ve hung out!” Jihoon isn’t pretty when he’s angry, he has a short temper and shouts a lot, it scares you.

“I don’t hate your girlfriends, I just know they’re bad news Jihoon. Look what happened to your 3 other girlfriends! They all either cheated on you or just wanted sex. I’m telling you she’s bad news.” Jihoon was very protective of his ex-girlfriends, he didn’t like you talking bad about them even if they cheated on him.

“Then who should I date, huh? Or should I stay alone forever just like you!”

“Anyone but her! She’s a liar and a cheater! I keep telling you this but you won’t listen!” You cheeks start burning and tears roll down your face.

“What is wrong with you? You’re not my mother. Control yourself!” Jihoon liked it when you cared for him, but not in this way.

“I can’t tell you.” Your heart quickens, tears falling faster than before.

“Why not?!” He’s yelling louder, face redder.

“Because I love you! Jihoon I love you! And I have for the past year and you won’t acknowledge that! I love you!”

“Well I don’t.”

46 notes · View notes