#can you spot all the things ive drawn him as and their references ??

[tinka-tank]

They could never make me hate you Jake disventure camp...

Anyways here's some things I thought of. Jake gets Tattoos... (I love putting canon jake next to my art of him bc you can see that my Vision is accurate !!)

And this drawing was created AFTER the collage 😭 ⤵️

Jake Hakurei...

[pampushky]

ive been watching him for my entire life

Alpha! Lando Norris/Omega! Lauda! Reader - chapter 1 - 6.1k

TW: Scene of attempted SA, and the abuser never referred to by name. Sexism (but in the A/B/O sense). Self-harm and depressive episodes.

Themes: Exploration of what disabilities, PTSD, and chronic pain look like in the A/B/O world. If you have input about what that may look like, dm me. Slow burn. So much so you're not sure if it's even burning at times.

also yeah Loscar is canon it's my au I can do what I fucking want

Leave your feedback in the comments/feel free to dm me about that shit if you don't feel comfy dropping an anon or comment.

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Mid January. 2024 Paris.

The hallway outside the trial room in the FIA headquarters is deceptively calm. Silent, save for the voices in the room behind you. You’d given your statement. Explained everything that had happened during your past two years at Williams, first with Nicholas Latifi, and then with Logan. Trying to do something with a car that was, in the kindest words, a tractor. Logan sits beside you, with a similar thousand-yard stare, just disassociating into space. Trying to trace the pattern of the carpet. 

“I should have been more— more perceptive,” Logan croaks, and you squeeze his hand, and shake your head. “Jesus. I— I tried to tell them everything. Everything I remembered from before–-”

“Thank you,” your voice is faint. Weak. Unlike you.

“Of course,” Logan squeezes your hand. You squeeze it back. “Always.”

You still remember the pit wall. Having to brush against his elbows occasionally. Knowing he did it on purpose some days, trying to provoke you. Going so far as to send you things coated in his scent when you were in heat, to try and provoke a bond sickness. Saved only by your brothers, curled close to you, letting you sleep in their arms as your fever raged. You were lucky your heats weren’t— weren’t consistently like that. More so just like a terrible fever and migraine, thanks to your medication. 

One pill to keep you from entering a real heat, morning. Two pills to help ease the brain fog from your head injury, morning and night. Another single pill to be taken whenever the pain gets too bad for you to function, any time of day. Anxiety medication, morning. Hormonal amplifiers to make up for the scent glands damaged by the fire all those years ago, morning and night. Scent blockers to mask your scent, morning. In total eight pills a day at your worst, perhaps nine.  

You croon nervously, despite knowing you’re safe here. That just inside the room behind you, past the heavy oak doors, are your grandfather and your uncles brothers. They’d never let anything happen to you. Not again. 

His elbow brushing against yours during the last lap of the race, encouraging Alex, despite his pace and his spot on the grid. Logan thanking you for being his engineer and friend during everything. You sit along the pit wall, silently, as celebrations rock the grid, and he appears in front of you, trying to make small talk, before following as you try to escape it, not wanting to talk to him, even as he looms behind you. His grip on the back of your neck, smothering the only bond you had, to Niki, to your pack. 

The near-toxic scent smothers you because of how close he is. Pushing you behind a stack of tires as you try to fight back, baring your teeth and thrashing while he manages to shove a need into your upper thigh, right through your pants. You yelp, and kick, trying to get any attention towards you, while most of the garage is empty. You feel him tearing at the collar of your shirt, ripping at it, pushing you into the tires. You bring your head into his nose, feeling the gush of blood against your face as he squeals and falls backward a few steps. 

You can’t smell anything besides his blood on your face, the metallic scent making you gag. When he turns to look at you, his face stained red, you growl, your lips drawn back over your teeth, trying to edge along the wall to get away from him. 

With a snarl, he leaps at you, pinning you to the wall, both hands wrapped around your neck, cutting off your airway. You thrash, and just as you think you’re going to pass out, the weight of his hands disappears from your neck. You stay where you are, leaning against the wall. Watching as Logan snarls furiously, pinning the other Alpha to the ground with ease, his long canines bared and coming close to the man’s neck, threatening to tear and rip and end whatever pathetic life he lived—

“I should have done more,” Logan leans down, his head in his hands. 

“You almost killed him,” you whisper, and that seems to startle the driver even more. “You almost killed him. I think that’s enough.”

The two of you sit in silence until Logan’s lawyer and his manager leave the room, closing the door softly behind them. For the brief moment that the doors are open, you hear him screaming his voice hoarse as the judgment comes ever closer. 

“The FIA won’t be pressing any charges,” The lawyer says softly while Logan continues to keep his head down. “Neither will—”

“Don’t say his name,” Logan looks up, interrupting the lawyer before he can even say something. There’s a fire in his words, a rare fury. “Don’t. I don’t— she doesn’t—”

“I apologize, I forgot about that.” The lawyer says, glancing over to look at you. You look presentable now. Nothing like the blurry images the paparazzi had gotten of you without any of your makeup to hide all the burns. Your skin looks more even, the uneven bumps and indents from the mottled scarring across your jaw partially hidden by concealer and foundation. The scars get more severe as they cross your upper cheek and the top of your nose. That’s the only part that’s harder to hide, even when you’ve covered it fully in makeup. 

“It’s time to go, Logan,” 

He looks at you with uncharacteristic panic. He’s the opposite of most alpha stereotypes. You’re glad Oscar’s found his way back to him, and that you’ve gotten to witness the sweet courtship start. He pulls you into a tight hug, and that’s when you finally crumble.

“You’re gonna be okay without me,” You whisper, voice shaking. “You’re gonna be fucking fantastic, Lo.”

“I’m so sorry,” Is all he can murmur, practically folding over you and holding you closer. “Maybe if I—”

“It’s okay. I’ll still be on the grid.”

“But it won’t be the same,”

“No. It won’t,” You choke out, as Logan pulls away. Both of you newly aged by the experience. You won’t be there to defend Logan from James. Logan won’t be there to understand the odd homesickness for a country you only partially remember, stuck between European and American. 

You feel small as Logan is led away by his manager and lawyer. His scent fading as the seconds turn to minutes, and then suddenly an hour has passed. Leaving you alone in the hallway until your brothers can get there. By the time they do arrive (two hours later), you’ve been chewing on your fingers and palms enough to make them bleed. Mathias and Lukas know you well enough to have already brought bandages and towels to help clean and treat the new wounds. Before this, you’d not been chewing or clawing at yourself for nearly a year and a half. Your therapist had looked devastated when you’d turned in the little chip she’d given you for not self-harming. 

There’s screaming from inside the room, before Niki bursts out, snarling a remark over his shoulder before he catches your eye, and softens. Your sire, despite his age, despite the fact that he has been told by his doctor many times that he needs to calm down, to be kinder to his aging body and new kidney, despite everything that should be holding him back, bends to knock his forehead against yours. One of his hands comes to the nape of your neck, softly rubbing the paternal bond he’d left there, claiming you as his child rather than a descendant. 

“Maus,” The feel of his scarred hands is familiar, comforting. His scent is even more so. Like spruce trees and slightly burnt sugar. Looking at you with red-rimmed irises that show his designation, his secondary sex, while he looms over you protectively. He sees the new bandages around your hands and the new bulkiness of your sleeves. 

“Oh, Maus…” Niki leans down, and croons 

If he wasn’t in active recovery from the kidney transplant, he’d likely be curling around you in his wolf form, just as he had done when you were little and first placed in his care after—

“You’re safe here. You’re safe.” 

It’s moments like this that you’re glad that your sense of smell was so destroyed after the fire. You’re grateful that you could only catch the faint scent of those within a small area around you. Because all you can smell is your father, your sire, who would burn the world down for you if it meant making you smile. That Mathias and Lukas— your brothers, not uncles, never uncles, too close to be considered just uncles to you— mark a silent guard beside you, Lukas in canine form, letting you hide your face in his dusty blond-brown fur. Mathias stands silently beside you, but with his hand held tightly in yours.

Memories of your first moments with them. The terror. Sleeping in the pillow forts and nests you’d built up until this very point in time. Always your guardians. Always by your side. In the hospital and beyond. 

You’re chewing on your thumbnail, claw extended, and Niki looks at you with a worried gaze, before softly reaching over and squeezing your shoulder.

The door opens again, and you hear shouting in a voice that haunted your dreams from within the room and then more of it, very quickly coming in your direction. Not the exit that you’d been told he would be made to use when the judgment was finally placed. 

You can just barely catch a whiff of the scent— overpowering and choking you as you tried to work, tried to examine all of the strategies that could help Logan succeed in last year’s car while the scent makes it hard to think, to breathe— before it’s nearly upon you entirely, with the Alpha who had made your past two years with Williams utter hell staring down at you, enraged, trying to push past your brothers to get to you, snarling and snapping at you as Niki shoves you forcefully behind him. 

“Tell them— tell them you accepted my courtship! You wanted this—”

Two officials start to drag him away. But you can still remember his scent. How weak he’d made you feel when you were trying to work on the car. Hating how he had purred and crooned with your every movement. Making sure you were always choking on his scent. Lukas rumbles in anger beside you, rising to stare down the man, hiding you from further view with his giant body. But of course he continues. 

“You accepted my gifts! You wanted this—”

No. You hadn’t wanted any of this. You’d just wanted to work on the cars. To help your friend grow and achieve. 

“As if anyone else would have you—”

Mathias snarls, and you can only pray that your grip on his hand is enough to stop him from lunging at the offending man.

“— you useless, crippled omega—”

Niki lunges this time, snarling, the old man’s frankly colossal canine form pining him to the ground with ease. Your sire's teeth just millimeters from tearing his throat out, stopped only by your panicked whine. Such a rare noise from you. You won’t have those you care about kill this man, this weak excuse for an Alpha. You don’t want to think of the heavy scent of his blood when you’re near them, seeking comfort from your family.

“Get him out of my sight,” Niki groans, when just a second later, court officers charge from the room. His canine form melts away, and he huffs, sitting down in one of the stiff chairs with a wince that you are hyper-aware of. Mathias looks at you with deep worry in his eyes. But you’re numb. Watching him get dragged away. Your thigh twinges from where he’d stabbed you with the needle. Part of it had broken off inside of you, removed at the hospital while the FIA officials tried to smooth things over. 

It twinges again when the verdict is read as you’re gently shuffled back into the room. He’s not allowed back in. It’s been shown he can’t control himself. 

“—Guilty on all counts, and shall be henceforth blacklisted from employment by all motorsports under the jurisdiction of the FIA. Omega Lauda shall be awarded a sum off—”

All you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears as you hold your arms tightly. Claws slowly sinking into the fresh bandages and redoing all the damage your brothers had worked so hard to fix.

Early February 2024. Woking. 

Lando knows he’s a big deal. He’s one of the most popular drivers, with a rabid fanbase that was willing to go to bat for him for just about anything, even when he was the one at fault. Edits were made when he so much as breathed. All that he doesn’t have is that elusive first win, but he has a feeling this season will be different. Be it how refreshed he feels after spending some time back in his childhood home with his parents and siblings, just to spend time as a pack for the first time in several years, all six of them together. 

His family is perfect. An alpha and omega set of parents, with two alphas and two omegas for pups, all rather successful. His brother, a former world champion in kart racing, now with a loving mate and the cutest pup in the world. His sister, a showjumper quickly rising through the ranks. All successful and perfect and beautiful. Lando can’t help but puff his chest out a bit, because that’s his pack. 

There’s an odd buzz in the air when he arrives, and through the giant glass windows, he can see how many people are gathered in the building, all wearing bright orange. As he comes closer, the overflowed parking has been filled. He parks his car in his specific spot, right next to Oscar, who’s already there, just not by his car. He’s just about ready to head to the on-site cafe when Andrea pops out of nowhere to drag him by his arm somewhere, cursing slightly.

“Mate— what’s got you in such a mood—” Lando whines, already feeling like the team principal is doing way too much this early in the morning. 

“Did you not read any of your emails or texts?” Andrea hisses, the Beta turning on his heels to grab Lando by both his shoulders, looking straight into the young driver’s eyes with a fury only seen when he’d been messing around in the garage and nearly broke the experimental back wing during testing in the summer. “Lando Norris, I could gut you right now—”

“What did I do?” Lando whines again, high-pitched and childish, and Andrea runs his hands down his face, cursing fluently in Italian, while also asking the Virgin Mary for patience, based on how many times he hears a hail mary tumble past the team principal’s lips. 

“You’re late. An hour late. Oscar, Zak, and I have been calling you for nearly that entire time and you’ve been silent.”

“...Late for what?” Lando utters. His phone had been dead, constantly forgotten to get plugged into the charger. Today had been no different. 

“O Maria, dammi la pazienza e la forza— your new race engineer is being introduced? Today?”

“What?! But I don’t even know who he is—”

“It’s a she, first of all, and maybe you’d know if you checked your emails—”

The conversation must be attracting attention, because soon, Oscar is also by his side, looking mildly disappointed in the older man. The omega’s scent has just the hint of rotting oranges, but other than that, it’s normal, like seasoned salt, charcoal, and oranges. 

“Wonderful first impression, really. She’s already thrilled to not have gotten to talk to you yet,” Oscar chimes in, and Lando groans, sending a withering glare in his direction that just bounces off of the Australian. “Now you just get to improvise your way through a panel about how excited you are to be working with her.”

“I don’t even know who she is!” Lando finally barks, his scent turning a bit panicked. It’s like a thunderstorm and a hot, dry heat, smelling how burnt food tastes.

“Mate, you’re fucking kidding me—,” Oscar starts, only to be interrupted by a polite cough behind Lando. 

“She is right behind you, Mr. Norris,” The voice is monotone. Icy. Damn near robotic. And he knows it immediately because you’re the current star of most engineering circles around the grid and the damn talk of every single person they’d interviewed to replace Will when it became clear Lando needed a change. You’d managed to pull decency and consistent points into Williams of all teams. It baffles him, honestly. How you’d managed that, he has no idea, but he assumes it’s through pure spite and fury.

You’re styled elegantly, with a tailored set of pleated, pale gray slacks and a cozy-looking, chunky knit black sweater, tucked into the top of your pants. Black dress shoes. Somehow, the slacks don’t even look bulky, cinching high on your waist, and it’s flattering how slimming the entire outfit is, despite all the known laws of fashion saying that this shouldn’t be such a flattering look. The neck of the sweater is in a mock style, clearly giving the statement of a private individual, hiding any possible claiming bonds. Your hair is in a perfectly messy but neat braid down your back, with two long pieces pulled from the top to slightly frame your face. 

So plain. But elegant.

Everything about you sets Lando off a bit. And he doesn’t know why. But you just tilt your head at him. As if he’s some puzzle for you to fix. It doesn’t help that he can’t get even a trace of your scent. Only the sterile odor that came with cleaning supplies and medicine. Almost like you’re on heavy medications or that you sleep in a hospital. It unnerves him. Lando’s heard a few rumors that you’re an alpha, and that you simply want to smell that way so as to not be assigned a certain stereotype or intimidate anyone.

After all, word on the grid was you left Williams because of how they’d handled the situation between the other race engineer and the anonymous omega colleague who’d been assaulted. 

So you at least had morals. 

“Oscar had mentioned you were…. A bit lax.” You murmur, icy eyes flicking up and down his form, your tone impassive and your stance closed off. “I hadn’t imagined you would be this bad, though.” 

“I’m actually quite good, normally.” 

“About checking your email and phone? Or should I put a tracker on you?” 

“Hilarious.” 

“I’m aware I am.” You say so dryly, so bluntly, that Lando feels one of his eyes twitch as a stylist manages to help pull him together to look somewhat presentable using the wardrobes saved. You just talk softly with Oscar the entire time, a fond look in your eyes as you talk to the Omega driver. 

Right. Logan. Oscar. You’d been Logan’s engineer before. You’d probably gotten to know Oscar through that. When Lando’s finally presentable enough, the stylist makes a final adjustment to your outfit by quickly weaving an orange ribbon around the end of your braid. 

“...I will not be wearing this when I am working,” you examine the ribbon, frowning. “You’re lucky to have me in this now.”

“What, don’t like papaya?”

“No. Red is better.�� You just murmur, still frowning at the ribbon, before letting it go. “Vati won in red. All three times.”

“Well, change is inevitable,” Lando fakes a sigh, and this makes you scowl. “I like the orange better, anyway.”

“You’ve yet to win, anyway,” You dismiss his comment with a simple wave of your hand, and go to follow Zak out onto the stage, leaving Lando a bit baffled. Oscar just snickers, patting him on the back and leaving the Brit scrambling to follow the both of you. 

The press conference goes immaculately. You’re the darling of the media, who seem to love how dry you are with every single answer. Just like Niki had been, even when you border on insulting most of the journalists asking the question. You look about ready to choke yourself with the wire of the microphone in front of you when someone asks you your opinion on Rush. 

“She thinks McLaren looked better in red,” Lando grins, looking at you with a mischievous grin. 

“McLaren had more wins in red.” You say bluntly, causing laughter to erupt. Lando’s ears turn pink. “We shall see if that is to change.”

He’s quiet for the rest of the press conference, until…

“Any statement on why you left Williams?”

You go rigid. Just for a second. And from where you sit beside him, Lando catches just the tiniest scent of anxiety on you, under all the sterile, medicinal odor that permeates the air around you. 

“....I thought that was obvious,” You mumble into the mic, before clearing your throat. “I, ah, don’t take kindly to anyone— especially someone who was considered my partner— trying to take advantage of someone. So.” 

There’s a tremor to your voice, barely detectable. And under the table, you’re squeezing your knee. Your hand shakes as the question repeats in your mind. Any statement on why you left Williams? The crowd is suddenly not safe. As he looks at you from every face, every set of eyes now staring at you, even when you know he’s not there. There’d been heightened security, Andrea and Zak had promised that. Oscar was here, already with a nest in his private suite at the factory, prepared for you to crash in when the press conference was over. You try to speak, to play the part of the stoic Alpha the grid has assigned to you, but your tongue is dry in your mouth. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see movement in the back of the crowd. Your hindbrain croons, and you feel yourself fighting off the urge to turn canine, to simply burst from the stage and run towards where you know is safe. He’s not there, Zak promised. He will never be anywhere near you again. 

You’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe—

“What a stupid fucking question,” Lando blurts out, a snarl in his voice. “It’s obvious why she left. She has morals and doesn’t tolerate that kind of shit. Ask a proper question or fuck off,” 

Zak calls an end to the press conference quickly after, and you make your way off stage quickly, retching into a trashcan the moment you’re hidden from the cameras and watching eyes. Oscar is beside you, stroking your back, trying to comfort you, as he had that first night, curled beside you in your own nest while Logan sits on guard at the entrance to the room. Making sure that he won’t be there to find you. Even when he is being held by the FIA and local authorities for investigation, and Niki is already on a private jet to make sure you’re okay. You’re not in the hotel room in the UAE, you’re in Woking. 

“Fucking stupid twats,” Lando spits, as he walks off stage, and nearly misses the fact that you’re puking. It’s almost comical how he does a double take, and scrambles over to you. “Shit, are you good?”

“No,” you say dryly, head still in the trash can. “But— thank you, for your defense.” 

“Yeah— I— I’m assuming you knew, the omega. The one affected, I mean.” Lando babbles, and it dawns on you briefly that Lando doesn’t know. 

The only people who do know are just Zak and Andrea— it’d been a big part of the negotiations around you being hired— and of course, Oscar, who you’d called the first night after presenting. You’re partially thankful for that, because then it means that even fewer know your designation. He really hadn’t checked any of his emails. 

“You could say that.” You mumble, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Oscar’s partially frozen, until he just continues to comfort you, wordlessly understanding that you don’t want to tell Lando. “We— we were close.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Please pass the message on that what they experienced— fuck, man, it’s fucking inexcusable—” Lando runs a hand through his curls, clearly stressed by the entire incident that had just happened at the press conference. So you keep your mouth shut, and clap him on the shoulder. Trying to act like the Beta or Alpha he thinks you are. 

“Enough about that. They’re— they got rewarded enough money to retire. They’re doing fine. Good therapist. Good house. Service dog to keep them safe.”

Your voice sounds so empty, but it’s not a lie. You’d been given enough money to quit nearly three times over. And you’d used it to start the search for a service dog that could help you with deep pressure therapy and watch your back in the garage. You’d needed a new one anyway, after your old dog had to be retired around a year ago. You’d needed one, doctor’s orders, to help you with you nearly-destroyed sense of smell, and the fact that you’re now deaf in one ear. 

“That’s—that’s good, at least,” Lando mumbles, but he doesn’t look convinced. 

An awkward silence stretches between you and the driver for what feels like hours, but is likely only seconds. He’s unconvinced. You know it. Oscar knows it. But frankly, Lando seemed to understand that questioning you right now is the least of his concerns. 

“What about a tour of the factory?” Oscar buts in, killing the silence just when you feel like you have to say something. Always the peacekeeper. Always the savior. “It could— could give you time to get to know each other.”

“No time for that, unfortunately,” Zak interrupts softly, uncharacteristic of his normal behavior. He refrains from touching you at all. Which you can’t help but be thankful for— already so different from Williams, and the disconnected behavior of the board. 

Had he heard the conversation? Did he understand what you were trying to pass off to Lando, at least for the time being? A glance in his direction as you brush yourself off reveals nothing. 

“Time for… a quick meeting. Just to get to know everyone better.” 

“I want to be there,” Oscar looks at the CEO, just as Andrea rejoins the group, looking a bit exhausted, after dealing with what would likely be a bit of a PR issue. 

“You were going to anyway.” Andrea sighs, rubbing his temple. “Shall we?” And you're whisked into a spacious conference room, decorated with the portraits of champions and drivers all around you.

McLaren is…. Interesting. Leagues different from Williams, as you’ve come to realize. It seems that every step further into the orange-hued team leads you further to this conclusion. It’s mostly discussions of the next month’s schedule, as it heads into the new year of testing before the season starts. You look at the calendar, making notes varying from calling Lando to be sure he’s awake at least two hours before anything starts, to avoid any issue like today happening, to then buying a mini fridge for your office to keep your food. 

“And about this morning,” Lando says bashfully, smiling at you in a way that shows he’s used to getting away with things like that, “Won’t happen again. My phone was dead, and—”

“Correct, it won’t happen again.” You say bluntly, and look at him over your laptop, before closing it. Inadvertently, your claws come out, and you start to pick at the edge of the table. An old nervous tick you've never gotten rid of. “It was unacceptable, and shows a severe lack of discipline on your part.” 

The table goes silent. Oscar is clearly trying not to laugh. Andrea and Zak look surprised by your chilly tone. 

“I mean, I suppose,” Lando says, frowning a bit at how blunt you are. 

“There is no ‘I suppose’, there is the truth.” You lean forward over the table to look at him. “Do you want to be a world champion, Lando Norris?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then start acting like it. You’re not the youngest on the grid anymore.” Your claw scratches against the edge of the table again, leaving a faint mark. “I’ll talk to your trainer after this. You’re going to do extra conditioning for every tardy arrival to a meeting, practice, whatever, starting with this morning.”

“That seems a bit much,” Andrea starts, but Zak lets out a low whistle. Almost impressed. 

“You’re treating him like a football coach would.”

“I’m treating him as he should be. He is an athlete. He represents a team. Such actions can reflect poorly.”

“It was one time!” Lando protests.

“Was it?” You challenge, raising an eyebrow. Lando has to stop himself from growling, reminding himself he must be civil. “Was it just a one-time occurrence last season, Andrea?”

Lando bites his lower lip. You’re much stricter than Will had ever been. Andrea just holds up his hands, looking back at him with an apologetic gaze while you prompt him to answer. 

“I admit… things have been a bit relaxed as of late,” The team principal scratches the back of his head, and you make a little tutting noise, before turning to look at Lando again. 

“Then we’re fixing it.” 

A long pause settles. And you start again.

“I do have… issues, with the way you run things here,” you scratch your claw into the wood of the table, a low rumble in your throat. The scent blockers you have on are distracting to Lando. He wonders, briefly, what your scent is like when it’s not so medicinal. “You need more discipline. Less media. It makes you seem… soft.”

“Soft?” Lando leans forward, tilting his head. You look back at him with your constantly blank stare, a slight frown on your lips, and icy eyes that challenge even the famous death stare of your sire. “What do you mean?”

You hesitate, looking to Zak and Andrea, who both gesture for you to continue. You then look at Oscar, who bites his lip and makes eye contact with you, and shrugs softly, as if permitting you to say what you were going to say.

“....you will take offense to what I’m about to say, I’m warning you.”

“Please, I’ll be fine,” Lando waves it off, grinning lazily. His nose twitches. The medicinal smell of your scent blockers is getting to him. Do you truly need to cover your scent that much? Are you worried that he’ll act aggressively because you’re also an Alpha?

“.... no. You won’t. I’ve seen your interviews.” You say dryly, and fold your arms. Lando balks. 

“I beg you pardon?”

“You don’t take criticism well.”

“I take it just fine!” Lando shoots back, feeling himself starting to get frustrated. Why did you have to wear them? Even if you are an Alpha, the medication provided by the FIA should be more than enough to keep anyone’s tempers from flaring.

“Then you won’t throw a hissyfit when I list out all my problems with the way you work?” 

Your tone is icy. Even. Perfectly calculated. 

“Oh, you know I want to hear about your issues with me,” Lando slams his hands down onto the table, and you just raise an eyebrow at him. He’s down to his undershirt, his fireproofs hanging at his waist as you stare at him. “So say it! Don’t hold back!”

Andrea just massages his temples as Zak looks like he wants to be anywhere else. 

“Only if you don’t throw a tantrum when I’m right.” You state, examining your nails from where you sit, as though this is boring for you. Monotonous and icily calm. 

Lando hates your voice. Specifically how robotic and monotone it sounds. What little he knows about you— which is as much as the rest of the world, with how private the Lauda family is— is that you apparently have some vocal chord and brain damage. Nothing substantial enough to impede your thought process or speaking to make you mute, but enough to have caused the monotonous way you speak. A small enough problem that Lando doesn’t feel like a total dick for what he’s about to say.

“Oh, just fucking say it, you robotic bitch!”

That gets your attention. You pause, slowly bring your hand down, and look at him. With that classic, terrifying Lauda glare. Your eyes pierce his soul, and for a second, just a second, Lando considers apologizing. Tucking his tail between his legs, his ears folded back. But then, he remembers who he is, and he meets your glare with his own, lips drawn back to bare his teeth. 

“Fine then.”

You push yourself up easily, and stand, looking down at him. 

“Firstly, you are incredibly arrogant. You take risks without properly considering the chances of failure. Whenever you do inevitably end up in a lower place than your high-and-mighty ass thinks you deserve, you then take it out on everyone but yourself, when it’s solely your own decisions getting you there.”

You take a deep breath in, and he can hear the rattle of it in your throat as you start to walk around the table towards him as if you’re stalking your prey. Glaring all the while. Eyes glowing in the light. Andrea has his head in his hands behind you.

“Furthermore, you’ve yet to win a single race. Just one. You are not a world champion because you’re a fan favorite and show extreme promise. Everyone is here because they showed promise at one point or another. You’re a brat of a driver with an ego boosted by all of the people who want to get into your pants and the fact that these fuckers,” You snarl when you whip your hand out to point to Zak and Andrea, who at least have the decency to look a bit ashamed, “…don’t discipline you enough.”

And then you stop, and pull him up by the collar so fast that he gets whiplash, looking you right in your eyes, and can see the angry, mottled skin of severe scarring just hidden under the concealer on your face. Zak still seems to be reeling from the comment you made about how soft they are on Lando, and the way that you’re bristling for a fight.

“Thirdly. You’re a fucking jackass who’s mad someone got called over here to stop your ass from having another hissyfit while being interviewed. I hope the food from the races this year gives you explosive diarrhea from all the spices.”

With that, you let go of his collar and storm out of the room, screaming in German the entire way out, while slamming the door behind you.

Andrea only groans, looking at Lando from between his fingers, while Zak has his head against the table. Oscar has his hands tightly threaded in his hair. But then you come storming back in, with something in your hand. Lando just barely manages to swat it out of the way, and listens to it hit the ground, sounding like an empty can.

And you throw your hands in the air. “Oh, so you can react when a Red Bull is suddenly coming at you! Now do it with the fucking car, dipshit!”

Lando feels his eye twitch once. Twice. And then he’s throwing the crinkled can right back at you, the two of you screaming at each other in two separate languages while Andrea pushes himself between you two, with Zak trying his best to mediate the situation. Oscar looks like he would rather be anywhere else than between the two of you, eyes straight to the center of the table when you’re both finally separated. His scent is sour and awkward. Lando’s smells of burnt rubber. Your teeth are still bared, scent hidden. And that somehow makes Lando angrier.

“Never insult my voice again,” You hiss at Lando, eyes burning as the Brit sits in the chair while you stay standing. Oscar is holding tightly to his shoulder, the omega’s fingers digging into his skin. “I’ll gut you like a fucking fish if you do.” 

The faintest trace of an American accent makes Lando’s head spin, as he watches you leave, stalking out of the room. And Zak looks at Lando, jaw hanging loose. “Uh. I think… I think we need a five-minute break.” Zak mumbles, looking a bit disturbed, before leaving to go talk to you. Lando just stands there, feeling his anger fade as Oscar slowly approaches him. Andrea has gone after Zak.

"Mate," The omega's voice trembles, with shock or rage, he isn't entirely sure which one, "What the fuck?"

tags: @the-holy-trinity-l @laura-naruto-fan1998 @amalialeclerc @st0rmzi3

[topazy]

Hunted

Pairing: Liam Dunbar x reader

Warnings: None

Chapter: 5.09

Liam leaves your side and storms towards his alpha, “What do you mean no?”

“Liam, look at her,” Scott says quietly. “She’s too weak. It will kill her. Plus, we don’t know what attacked her; it could be something that’s already started to turn her.”

Your attention is drawn to Theo, who starts cleaning some of the sweat off your forehead, “I’ve got a confession to make. I found out who your biological dad was, which was pretty easy considering how hard your mom tried to hide the truth from you.”

You give him a pleading look with your eyes, mentally begging him to somehow end this. “You were right, btw. The name you scored off your list was in fact your dad's name.”

No.

“You promised!” Liam yells. “You promised me you’d do everything you could.”

“Which is why I’m not going to do something I think is going to kill her. There has to be…” Scott begins to gasp for breath. “There has to be…”

Theo winks at you before putting on a concerned voice and giving Scott his inhaler. “Guys,” he says, squeezing your hand. “We need to do something, otherwise she’s not going to make it.”

—

You awake with a burning pain shooting through your body. You feel as if your heart and head are about to explode at the same time. The inside of your ears start to hurt when multiple alarms start to go off at once.

“She is awake! She’s awake! Mason, go get Liam now!”

You open your eyes to see Melissa McCall standing over you, adjusting one of the IV drips. She smiles at you brightly, “It's working. You just need to keep fighting, okay?” When you try to speak, she frowns and says, “No, no, honey, you've got to save your strength.”

“He's…” Your voice comes out extremely hoarse and crackly. “Is..." in…”, you start to gasp for breath.

“Shh, shh, please don't say anything else.”

You ignore her instructions and continue trying to talk. “Theo... Scott... danger!”

She leans in closer to you, looking alarmed at hearing the word danger right after her son's name. “He's... he's…” Tears spill from your eyes as the pain becomes more intense, but you refuse to give up trying to warn her. “He... he...He’s going to kill Scott.”

Melissa drops whatever’s in her hands and runs from the room. Seconds later, everything goes black.

—

Your eyes flutter open and the first thing you spot is a figure slouched in a chair with her head resting near your feet. You can only see the back of them, but you already know who it is.

“Derek?”

He slowly sits up and turns to face you. He looks petrified and exhausted, “y/n…”

“Lulana, I don’t like being called that. Kate was the only one who ever really called me by my first name.”

An uneasy feeling settled in your chest. Why did he come? And was he really your dad?

You try to clear your throat but end up coughing instead. Derek picks up the cup of water from the table and brings it to your lips. You take a drink from it before continuing. “Uh thanks, are you?”

He answers before you have the chance to finish the questions. “They ran a DNA test, and it’s a match.”

Your mind feels as if it’s going into overdrive. Derek Hale was your real father, but the man who raised you as his own was recently killed by your mom. That, paired with all the other shit that was going on, would give anyone a headache.

“Why did you come?”

He sits down on the foot of the bed, “Scott called me.”

“He’s alive?”

Derek nods. Tears of relief fall from the corner of your eyes.

“I didn’t know.” His voice was so low it was hardly audible. “I never knew Kate had a daughter until I saw you that day in Mexico.”

“Believe it or not, I’d made a list of all the potential fathers and removed your name from it because I didn’t actually think Kate would go anywhere near a werewolf.”

“I know. Stiles showed me the list in his room.”

“He just showed you his crime board?”

He shrugs, “I might have twisted his arm a bit.”

You had no idea if he was joking or not. Stiles referred to Derek as a ‘sour wolf,’ and he was very aggressive. You wondered if he’d always been like that or if what Kate did made him that way. hybrid. Theo’s voice echoed in your ears, and you knew what he meant. You were a Hale and an Argent.The thought of coming from a proud family of hunters amused you, and you let out a small laugh thinking about it.

“What’s so funny?” Derek asks, confused.

“The Argent family really is one big joke. Our name literally means silver, but yet we can’t stay away from werewolves.”

He stared at you blankly, “Your boyfriend has been waiting outside for days. He hardly ever leaves.”

“Days? How long was I out for?”

“Three days. Chris was here but he needed to leave. He said it was urgent and that he would be back with help.”

You sigh, “is Liam outside now?”

“No, but your other friends are,” he answers bluntly. “Do you want me to get them?”

“How long are you staying for?”

“However long you want me here for.”

The Calavera Kate, Hunters.

A sinking realization presses on your gut, “I don’t want you putting your life in danger by staying here.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, “I’m not the priority anymore.”

The moment he opens the door and gives a nod for the others to come in, Stiles practically shoves him out of the way to get to you. Derek lets out a low growl, clearly irritated when Stiles pulls in for a tight hug.

"Seriously? Are we doing the overprotective dad act already?” Stiles asks sarcastically.

Not finding him funny anymore, you hit him in the arm lightly. Your eyes light up when Mason walks into the room carrying a tray of food for you. “I knew you'd be hungry,” he says as he places the tray on the table beside you. “You had us so scared, Lu, I honestly thought you were a goner.”

Your eyes continually shift between your two friends, Derek and the doorway, as they explain that Theo had been working for the dreadful doctors. It surprised you how natural it felt having Derek, occasionally chiming in. They fill you in on Hayden dying and coming back to life, but each time you ask where Liam was during all that time, they avoid the questions or change the subject.

“Where’s Liam?” You ask.

“He’s coming by later,” Mason says, faking a smile. “I called him. He was so excited that you were finally awake; he almost cried.”

You look between your friends and notice how shifty they have suddenly become. “What aren’t you guys telling me?”

Stiles looks hesitant, “he’s coming later because…”

“He’s coming later because he can’t be around Scott at the moment,” Derek says interrupting.

“Yip, thanks for that,” Stiles says, giving him a thumbs up. “Now your answer is going to lead to more questions that we can’t answer.”

You become irritated quickly as they go back and forth on how much they should tell you. Suddenly, the door swings open and Liam runs over to you. He hugs you tightly. “I’m so sorry, Lulana,” he sobs. “I had no idea Theo was the one who attacked you. I trusted the wrong person and almost got you killed.”

You can see the rage of emotions on Derek's face, and notice the daggers Stiles is giving your boyfriend as well.

You cup the side of his face, “we all fell for his act.”

“You didn’t,” Stiles chimes in. “You warned me about him. “You figured it out before the rest of us." He stands up from the chair he’s in, “I need to get going. Scott and I are going to Mexico.” He motions for Mason to follow him and taps Derek on the shoulder, “Let’s give them a moment to talk.”

Reluctantly, Derek stands and glares directly at your boyfriend, who is shaking with nerves beside you. “I will be right outside.”

He slams the door shut behind him. You brush it off and look at Liam, “Where have you been?”

He avoids your gaze, “I went for a walk because Scott was here. He doesn’t want to be around me right now.”

“Why not?”

“Because I... I tried to kill him.”

[mari-beau]

GIVE ME A REASON: PART SIX - A Rogue One Fanfiction

This is a shorter installment, and maybe pointless… maybe I’m dragging this out too long… But also, who cares, I’m doing this for fun. I just love playing with them!

Read on AO3

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Title: Give Me A Reason: Part Six

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Characters: Jyn Erso POV, Cassian Andor

Pairing: Cassian/Jyn (mostly pre-ship?)

Spoilers: Rogue One; Episode IV A New Hope

Setting: Post-Rogue One AU (Cassian & Jyn live); Also during/post A New Hope

Warnings: Some coarse language. References to wounds. And… Cuddling?

Words: 1,720

Story Summary: Jyn’s entire universe has been turned on its head, so maybe she’s clinging a little too hard to the one thing she feels certain of (strangely enough) as she tries to figure out her place in the galaxy. And maybe she’s being a little overprotective of a wounded captain.

Also can be found on AO3.

The Death Star had come for them.

Again.

But Jyn couldn’t bring herself to care. It did seem a little strange to have been spared the last time only to probably be destroyed this time, barely a week later. But either way, it was the end to her life she now knew to be her fate, or whatever. It just felt right. It just was. Not the Death Star specifically, but,

Jyn Erso would die in Cassian Andor’s arms.

Whether it should’ve been on Scarif. Or it was here on Yavin 4. Or the next day. Or thousands of days in the future.

And there was a sort of peace in knowing that. One that allowed her to climb into his bed, slide her arms around him, and bury her face in his shoulder. He stirred and her heart skipped a beat. It was easier when he was unconscious, to consider how she felt about him, how she’d been attracted to men before, even had something akin to a relationship with one or two, but it had never felt like this.

“Jyn…?”

“Yes, it’s me. We’re on the base on Yavin 4. Safe. In your quarters.” It was easier to preempt any confusion or alarm Cassian experienced when he woke from his heavy, partially drugged, mostly just exhausted from his body’s healing, sleep.

“How long?” he asked, then realized there were static-laden voices broadcasting over the basewide intercom. “What’s going on?”

“You’ve been asleep for 12 hours,” Jyn said, moving closer and partially on top of him to prevent him from trying to get up in a rush and falling flat on his face. Also, she was admittedly afraid on some level, afraid to be alone and facing death. When he was near her, when they were physically entwined in some way, she felt like everything would be okay. Even if she died, if it was in Cassian’s arms, then everything would be okay. Irrational, yes. But that didn’t make it any less her truth.

“The Death Star is here,” she said, once she could tell he was awake enough to understand, not muddled by pain meds. “The Alliance is scrambling their forces to engage. They’re leaving the comms open, since you know…”

“We’re all dead if they fail.”

His arms wrapped around her and engulfed her in his warm embrace. Cassian Andor, a man who, she didn’t think she was wrong to guess, hadn’t received much at all in the way of affection in his life, somehow was so good at holding a person he made the pain of the universe go away, made the entire universe fade away except for his hands on her body, gentle and undemanding but also firm and reassuring, his breath hot on her neck, sending shivers down her spine, and his body beneath hers, so strong despite his injuries.

“Are you okay?” she asked, remembering the physical state of him.

“Mmm… Yes.” His hands tightened their grip on her side and shoulder, reflexively, a gentle squeeze as he murmured into her neck. “Feels good.”

He probably meant he felt fine, but oh, yes, it did feel good. Or maybe he was still quite medicated?

“My weight isn’t putting pressure on your injuries?” Jyn asked. “Maybe I should…”

“No.” Somehow he managed to pull her further into him, her breasts flattening against his chest, her hip practically fusing to his, her breath hitching momentarily and then joining the rhythm of his own breaths...in and out… in and out… in and out...

Cassian sighed, made a frustrated, growling sound.

“I need to use the ‘fresher,” he said, loosening his grip on her.

Jyn rolled off from him, swung her legs around to sit on the side of the cot and waited to see if Cassian could manage to stand. He slid to sit on the edge of the bed next to her and took a moment. She didn’t press him, though an instinct inside of her wanted to offer assistance, wanted to take care of him, wanted to ease the pain and struggle his recovery was.

He stood, again pausing for a moment, then walked slowly across the small room to his private refresher facilities. Apparently, it was one of very few benefits to his officer’s rank, for the small quarters were nothing more than a glorified closet. But she supposed it spared him from having to sleep in a large barracks with a bunch of others, not that it would’ve deterred Jyn in the least from crawling into his bed.

Part of her felt like she shouldn’t watch his laborious movements, out of respect, but she couldn’t look away. What if he needed her?

Force, what if he didn’t need her? Not like she needed him? Aw, fuck. She needed him.

She watched the muscles in his naked back twitch, stiff from inactivity and injury. But her eyes were inevitably drawn to the perfectly uniform lines of small circular marks running down his spine. She knew there was a matching sort of trail along his ribs. Injections of some sort of bacta cocktail meant to speed the fusing of the fractures in his vertebrae and ribs, injections straight into the bone. How painful would that have been if he’d been conscious, she couldn’t help but wonder, couldn’t help but want to wrap her smaller body around as much of Cassian as she could, run her hands gently over his scars, old and new, make sure his wounds were healing and his bruises fading, hear him sigh contentedly against her skin, hold him forever.

As he disappeared into the ‘fresher, Jyn realized she was hopeless.

Cassian Andor had taught her about hope. And had made her absolutely hopeless at the same time.

But why fret about it? What did it matter?

Jyn was used to dealing with life moment by moment, day by day. And she might not have many more moments, anyway.

The loud, static-laden voices crackling over the basewide intercom announced the launch of yet another squadron of fighters, then abruptly switched over to some ship’s communication officer announcing visual confirmation of the target. The Death Star.

Looming on the horizon like a moon, a harbinger of death, bringer of eternal night. Cold, austere, which made it somehow more terrifying, somehow worse than staring down an angry brute about to put a knife in you. It was just so inevitable, indomitable. Made her feel so small, insignificant, so alone.

“Do you mind if I turn this off?”

Jyn startled. How had she not noticed Cassian reappear in the small room? He pointed at the comm, which was broadcasting the prelims of a battle to determine all their fates.

She didn’t want to listen to it either.

“Please do,” she said, already feeling less… alone.

She watched Cassian lean over to switch the speaker off, wincing in sympathy with him as he straightened again, taking a deep breath that expanded his chest and shifted the muscles beneath his skin, mesmerizing her more than a little. His mostly naked body preoccupied far too many of her thoughts.

But what else had she been supposed to do? She’d woken up drenched in sweat that first night in his quarters, had to strip out of the heavy infirmary clothes, found Cassian tossing in his sleep, nearly feverish, removed the sweltering clothes from his body, as well. Little did she know, how enthralling she’d find his lean muscles, the shape of his body, the feel of his bare skin, his-

His hands cupped her face and Jyn looked up at Cassian Andor, his kriffing gorgeous dark eyes fixed on her. His fingers swept some stray hair from her forehead, tucked it behind her ear, returned to swipe gently over the nearly-healed scar above her eyebrow, in her hairline.

“Are you okay?” A knot formed in her throat. Cassian was a good man, despite every questionable thing he’d done and tortured himself over. Of course he would care about her wellbeing. It didn’t mean-

“Ow!”

“Your blaster wound still hurts?” His fingers feathered over her shoulder, not touching the freshly healed injury this time.

“It does when you jab your finger in it.” She grabbed his wrist and tugged his hand away, throwing him off balance so that he fell into her and she managed to catch him and ease him onto the bed, right where she wanted him.

A chuckle escaped him and he smiled, making something flutter inside of her. And then he was reaching for her, pulling her close.

His embrace was everything she’d never known she’d wanted. His hands stroked her back and he buried his face in her neck, nuzzling a sensitive spot just behind and below her ear.

She sighed, wrapping an arm around his middle and burying the fingers of her other hand in his messy, soft hair. She pressed gently as she massaged his scalp down to his nape, eliciting a hum of pleasure from him that vibrated against her bare skin and into her flesh.

If this was to be her last moment, Jyn held no regrets. It was a good moment.

“Jyn?” His voice had a lethargic but happy edge to it, thick and low and sleepy. She could sympathize.

“Yes?” She twisted her finger in a lock of hair curling about his neck.

“Please don’t let me sleep so long this time.” His whisper tickled her ear. “No more than 10 hours. Okay? Please?”

He wanted her to wake him up in 10 hours… Like there wasn’t a battle raging in space nearby… Like he didn’t believe they were quite probably going to die soon, incinerated by a weapon her own father helped design. Like he didn’t believe they were going to lose, after all. Somehow, he believed they would be there, together, ten hours from this moment.

Hope.

Such a man as Cassian… The most unexpected thing she’d discovered about him was his belief in hope. That he possessed any at all after all he had done, all he had seen. And then he’d given it to her.

And again, it warmed her, deep inside, that small seed of hope. She snuggled closer to the man, hoping for something she couldn’t even begin to conceive of. But yearned for it, with every fiber of her being.

[casey-v]

Valentine

Ethan x Casey

I haven’t written any fics for quite a while, but with OH3 coming soon I’m getting these vibes again….

I always wondered: what would the closing of Edenbrook mean to E x MC’s relationship? Here’s my attempt to this part of the story.

Sorry in advance for any mistakes, English isn’t my first language.

Warnings: none, I guess (maybe a few smutty thoughts)

Words: 3K

Disclaimer: all characters owned by PB

Participating in @choicesfebchallenge Day14: Valentine

“Good morning Dr. Valentine. This is your day today, isn’t it?” The nurse Rose greeted Casey as she entered the free clinic.

“Good morning. Yeah, I get that a lot.” Casey tried a friendly smile. Since she had been a child everyone referred to her last name on Valentine’s Day, making a remark or joking around. As a teenager it had made her feel special, but by now she was tired of hearing it. Especially today.

She had been in a bad mood since she woke up and it had nothing to do with her last name or Rose. But it had everything to do with the man who simply ignored this day today, probably didn’t even know it existed. 

It was perfectly clear to Casey, that these kinds of traditions meant nothing to Ethan. Nevertheless, her disappointment was huge because she had had great expectations for today. After a few difficult weeks she had hoped that a romantic dinner could bring them closer together again.

After the gala and their public kiss everything had seemed perfect and she had spent some time on cloud number nine. But then Ethan gradually became distant and a little grumpy again. They both often worked double shifts and meetings outside the hospital became rare. And they never talked about their life after Edenbrook’s closing. Whenever they got close to that topic, Ethan would change the subject. And Casey was also in denial; she hadn’t applied to any jobs outside greater Boston because she didn’t want to lose Ethan. But maybe it was too late now anyway, she didn’t even know what point in their relationship they really were at.            

“Has he told you yet?” Sienna interrupted her thoughts.

“Hi Sienna. No, I still have no idea what we’re doing tonight.”

“Oh, that’s so romantic. For sure he has something incredibly special planned for the two of you.”

Casey tried to maintain a cheerful façade even though she actually felt like crying. But Sienna’s enthusiasm was also kind of sweet, so she managed a smile.

“You seem more excited than I am.”

“I’m hosting a lonely-hearts roomie dinner tonight, so at least let me enjoy the romance in your life.”

Casey felt bad that she was being dishonest with her friend. It was silly, but she would rather spend the night at the movies on her own and then sleep in an on-call room than admit to her friend that Ethan wasn’t going to take her out on a date. Besides, talking about it would make it more real: their relationship was probably on the rocks.

 A busy morning at the clinic kept Casey occupied and gave her no opportunity to dwell on her misery. As she was preparing an IV for a patient, she suddenly sensed someone right behind her.

“Dr. Valentine, can you please run some tests on this patient and then get back to me as soon as possible?”

Usually her favorite baritone voice quickened her heartbeat, but today it sounded businesslike and not appealing at all. When she turned around Ethan didn't meet her gaze. Instead, he just thrust a patient chart into her hand and was gone before Casey even had the chance to respond.

 At first, she stood there with her mouth open, unable to move, a dreadful feeling spreading through her chest. She had barely seen him all week and that was all she got?

When her vision started to get blurred by tears, she quickly ran to a supply closet, locked the door and sank to the floor.

 What now? She couldn’t decide whether she was more sad or mad. How could it be, that things went wrong so fast after everything they had been through together? And how dare he talk to her like a random intern, shoving that patient file into her hands so rudely. He wasn't even her boss anymore.

She still held the chart clutched to her chest and now wanted to check what seemed so urgent. But what she saw didn't make any sense. There was only a last name on it and an address, but everything else was blank. As she turned the page her heart took a leap. She wiped away a few tears and stared at the blank piece of paper. Two words stared back at her.

Dinner tonight?

When she finally remembered to breathe again, she flipped back to the first page and now the pieces were falling into place.

Sorellina, Huntington Ave.

She knew the name had sounded familiar. “Sorellina” wasn't a patient's name; it was the name of a fancy Italian restaurant in the Back Bay. To be sure she pulled out her phone and searched the internet. And what she found there brought a bright smile to her face.

 …the ultimate destination if you're looking to really impress a date…

.. one of the most romantic spots in the city…

…awesome place for date nights…

 So he didn’t forget after all! But why the strange behavior? Some things didn’t add up. You don’t get a reservation like this one day in advance. He must have planned this weeks ago. A lot had changed since and now maybe he just wanted to give them one last shot? He wouldn’t be so heartless to dump her on Valentine’s day, would he?

Casey was totally confused. Was she just misinterpreting the whole situation? But she couldn’t be that paranoid. Something was brewing and she was determined to find out tonight, no matter what. This time she would confront him and for once she wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily.

But first she had to get through the day somehow, and she had to head home during her lunchbreak to choose a breathtaking dress. And pack an overnight bag, just in case. Not to forget the special brand of scotch she had ordered for Ethan. And she had to tell Sienna. And…

Okay! First of all, she had to calm down and concentrate on her work. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she took a pen out of her pocket and wrote below Ethan’s message.

Tell me when and where and I’ll be there 💕

After leaving the supply closet she randomly grabbed two other files, placed hers in between and handed them to an intern. “Please get this to Dr. Ramsey immediately.” Then she went back to her patient, who was still waiting for his IV.

The day seemed to drag on endlessly. In the afternoon she found the piece of paper out of the fake patient file in her coat pocket.  

Dinner tonight?

Tell me when and where and I’ll be there 💕

my office, 7 pm 😊

 He had even drawn an emoji! Smiling she added one more line.

Dessert at your place?

Then she quickly ran upstairs, sneaked into Ethan’s office, and put the piece of paper onto his desk. Her eyes fell on the big clock on the wall: 4 pm! Three more hours to go.

 *******

Ethan sat behind his desk, already dressed in his tux, trying to focus on some files. But instead of working, he kept repeating in his head what he wanted to say tonight.

It was ridiculous. Usually, he gave speeches in front of hundreds of fellow doctors and here he was, being nervous about talking to one single woman. The difference was that he felt very qualified to talk about his profession, but he was totally insecure when it came to talking about his feelings. With Casey, he wasn't Dr. Ramsey, a famous and respected diagnostician; with her, he was simply Ethan, a man struggling with the changes in his life.

The sound of high heels echoed through the hallway and announced Casey's arrival. Trying to calm his nerves Ethan busied himself with his paperwork as she entered the office. He didn't raise his head, instead he just glanced at her over the rims of his glasses. As he did, she put her hands on her hips, pushing the winter coat aside to give him full view of her stunning dress. And it had the desired effect. The small piece of black nothingness took his breath away.

 “Dr. Ramsey, don't you think it's inappropriate to look at a colleague that way?”

He swallowed hard, but he wouldn’t let her tease him like that.

“Dr. Valentine, don't you think it's inappropriate to wear something like that in your workplace?”

She smirked at him.

“Not as much as taking it off right here in your office.”

Defeated he shook his head, a smile showing at the corners of his mouth. He had to fight the urge to leap over his desk and take her right there against the office door, but instead he only sighed deeply and reached for his coat. This had to wait.

“We better get going or I don't know what I'll do!”

Together they left the office and walked to his car, holding hands. But despite their little banter just now there was an odd silence between them.

*******

The restaurant really was the perfect setting for a special date. Casey was overwhelmed and also kind of intimidated by the atmosphere. To her, it felt more like a first date with a guy she had a crush on than a dinner with the man she had been dating for month. And Ethan seemed equally self-conscious. But after some champagne, they both loosened up and had a really great time.

Almost.

Casey knew Ethan too well by now not to notice that something was strange about him tonight. She couldn’t shake that nagging feeling in her gut.

Back in his apartment, after she had given him her gift, he sat down on the couch with a serious face and asked her to sit down as well.

“I have something for you, too”

Blushing slightly, he handed her a small box and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I wanted to…, I mean this is… Oh, just open it and then I’ll explain!”

Carefully, she lifted the lid of the box and saw, lying on a tiny silk cushion, a key. From the looks of it, she assumed it was the key to his apartment. Casey gave Ethan a questioning look and waited for the promised explanation. But it didn’t come. Ethan seemed uncomfortable and pinched the bridge of his nose. Finally, he just blurted it out.

“Want to move in with me?”

Of all the things she had expected him to say, this certainly wasn’t on the list. But why now? Hundreds of different thoughts whirled through Casey’s head all at once. At first she just stared at him, then she burst into tears. For a long time Ethan looked at her helplessly, finally he ran a hand through his hair in frustration and murmured: “Obviously not.”

At that, Casey’s head snapped up. “No, no, no! I do, of course I do!” She wiped some tears from her face and explained between occasional sobs.

“The thing is: Whenever I imagined moving in with you, I got sad about not living with my friends anymore. And now I’ve just realized it doesn’t matter because in a couple of weeks they’ll all be gone anyway, scattered across the country. I’m going to miss them so much. And since I don’t know where I am going to be, there’s no point in moving in with you either.”

She shook her head, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess, it just seems that everything is falling apart. This morning I wasn’t even sure whether you want to break up with me or not and I thought that…”

“Whoa, hold it right there. What on earth are you talking about?”

From Ethan’s shocked expression Casey could tell that it had obviously never occurred to him to break up. Slightly embarrassed she continued in an unsteady voice.

“I mean, the way you’ve been acting lately, especially this morning, you’ve been so rude….”

Ethan gently caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, wiped away her tears, and sighed.

“Oh Casey, I’m so sorry. But you know me; you know that I hate talking in front of patients. And I had a lot on my mind; I’ve been nervous all day about our date.”

He smiled shyly and shook his head. Then his gaze darkened again, guilt clearly written on his face. His brows furrowed, and he backed away a little.

“Although you’re right that I’ve been putting some distance between us lately. But I needed clarity about the whole job situation. And us. All my life I’ve planned everything three steps ahead and then suddenly it felt like I was losing control. I know I can’t ask you to stay because you have to finish your residency at one of the best hospitals in the country. Thus, I have tortured myself to figure out how we can make things work and I’ve been miserable all this time. Until I realized the answer is fairly simple.”

Casey couldn’t believe that they had both been so distraught for weeks, and instead of sharing and confiding in each other, they were just brooding over the challenges ahead, each to their own. Slowly, the uneasy feeling inside her stomach began to dissipate, although she had no idea what he was talking about.

“What answer?”

Ethan took her hand and he gently drew circles on the back of it with his thumb, his eyes following its movement.

“Edenbrook has been my home for almost 12 years now, and if they take it away from me, what else is there? Naveen, of course, and my father nearby, but other than that ….”

All this time Casey held the box with the key in one hand. Now he took it from her and raised the key to eye level. Her gaze wandered back and forth between the key and Ethan. He cleared his throat in search of words, but they didn’t come. Her heart hammered in her chest, the tension almost unbearable. Finally, his blue eyes met hers and he found the courage to speak, his voice husky and low.

“This isn’t just the key to my apartment, Casey. This key means I want to live with you, wherever that may be.”

His last words were only a whisper. “If you’ll have me, that is.”

Casey couldn’t even begin to grasp what it all meant. She would be able to apply to any hospital in the country and Ethan would be with her. Live with her.

An overwhelming feeling of happiness spread through her body.

“You really would do this for me?”

“No, if I’m honest I’m doing this not for you but for myself. I don’t want to go back to being that grumpy cynic I once was before I met you. I’m lost without you.”

The full meaning of his words sent a prickling sensation down her spine, but she was also amused.

“Ethan, you’re one of the most famous and respected physicians, you’ve managed perfectly fine without me for 36 years.”

Ethan put down the key and the box from her hand and took both her hands, his gaze intense.

“But it’s taken me 36 years to find out what it means to be genuinely happy.”

Those last words took all her breath right out of her and her heart was ready to explode. His eyes pierced hers as he waited for a response.

He moved closer und squeezed her hands tightly, his eyes still dark.

“So, what do you say?”

She couldn’t resist the temptation to mess with him.

“Let me get this straight: You’re telling me, if I said no, there would be no one to tell you if you’re acting like a goddam diva again?”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth realizing what she was getting at. “Probably.”

Grinning she went on. “And who would be there to help you with your social media accounts?”

“Nobody.”

Ethan’s eyes began to light up as she moved onto his lap, mischief in her smile.

“And there would be no one who would dare to tease you?”

“Right.”

Their faces were now only a breath away.

“And nobody there to make you pancakes?”

“Exactly. What would become of me?”

Her mouth moved to the side of his neck. After a line of soft kisses, she started nibbling on his earlobe and whispered. “And no one, who would do this?”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not hard to find someb…”

She quickly backed away and punched his arm playfully. “Don’t you dare!”

Ethan was now gleaming all over his face. He tucked a finger under her chin and gently nudged her nose with his. “So is that a YES?”

“Do I even have a choice?”

“Not really!”

And then at last his lips found hers, first slowly, barely touching, until they both gave in and melted into each other. All the tension of the day, all the pent-up emotions of the past weeks fell off and there was only him and her. While the kisses grew more and more urgent, his hands started to roam over her body and slowly he unzipped her dress. As his warm hand gently slid down her back, Casey felt his hot breath on her ear.

“If I remember correctly, you promised me dessert.”

“We already had a selection of delicious Italian desserts.”

“But I’m still very hungry. And first of all, this dress has to go. The sight of it has been tormenting me all evening.”

*****

The bedroom was almost dark. Ethan lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He was unable to put his mind to rest after the events of the day. He turned over to watch the stunning woman sleeping next to him. The moonlight on her face made her even look more beautiful. From now on, he would have the privilege of waking up to this sight every morning. That thought alone made his heart leap.

Gently, he draped the sheets over her shoulder, brushed her hair out of her face and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek; always careful not to wake her.

Smiling down at her he whispered. “I love you, Casey Valentine.”

Never before had these words left his lips. And now didn’t even count either because she couldn’t hear them. He had tried to tell her many times, but the moment never seemed right. Today would have been the perfect occasion, but he had chickened out again.

It was absurd. They had started to plan their future together. Why was it so hard? Three simple words!

Laying back down he whispered, more to himself.

“I’m going to tell you. Soon.

Maybe tomorrow.”

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Thank you if you have made it so far.

This piece has really been a challenge, it took me forever. I’ve changed it a couple of times and I am still not quite satisfied, but at some point you just have to let go.

Tagging seperately.

[angelruel]

vintage pt.2

      summary: the reader gets into an accident which causes her to lose her memory. as Ruel begins to rebuild their relationship and recall the good memories between them, some bad ones are restored as well and might threaten their future. 

masterlist

Word Count: 4.4 k (kind of long, oops)

       “Soooo what’s my favorite color?”

       “Easy. Blue,” he retorted while reaching over to fill in a space on the tic tac toe board that Y/N had drawn on her empty lap desk. He was the x’s and she played the o’s. It was a bit difficult for Ruel to pretend to not know all of her tricks she played in this game, but he was a very convincing loser. She had also taken the opportunity of his return to test him on some trivia of her personal likes and dislikes. 

       “Okay, here’s a good one,” she said as she filled the left hand corner on the board with a perfect circle. Ruel learned a long time ago that her strategy was to fill two corners and the center spot of the board in order to have an upper hand on winning. He watched her play the same way over again. Ruel admired her predictability and he almost felt confident enough that her tic tac toe skills returning would somehow correlate to her feelings for him to return as well.

       “Well finally a good one. Lay it on me.” He gave her his signature soft smile that he always grants her when he’s being his sweetest version of a boyfriend.

       “What’s my favorite song? Or, at least one of my favorite songs.”

       Ruel scrunches up his nose in thought, “hmmm. I’m gonna need a little more context, bub.”

       “Okay so maybe my favorite song I like to hear on a road trip. Something that gets me energized.” Ruel found it funny that she was reaching for more and more clues to jog her memory. They both knew that couldn’t she remember the last road trip she’d been on, or any of them for that matter. He was proud that she was at least in a more positive mood about not remembering things. 

       “Wait a Minute! by Willow Smith. There’s one.”

       Y/N’s happy expression dropped to a confused one. 

       “Huh? I don’t listen to Willow Smith.”

       They both just sat there for a while. There was still an apparent wall that Y/N had built up to secure herself from being hurt by Ruel since she barely knew him. 

       But the truth was that she barely knew herself.

       “Well, I guess I did listen to her music,” she dropped her head down. “I guess I just can’t remember it.” 

       Ruel used the sleeve of his sweater to wipe off the marker drawings on Y/N’s desk tray so that he could lean over it to hold her hands.

       “Hey, how about we do something else? I brought back some stuff like you asked me for.” She looked up and gave him a soft smile when he let go of her hands to grab a blue shoebox from the floor.

       “Oh, you brought gifts! Yay!” she exclaimed while clapping her dainty hands over and over. He sat the box in front of her lap on the hospital tray and she stared at it for a minute. One of the things she did remember was that blue was her favorite color. And after having a few conversations with Ruel, she discovered that his was brown. So, she assumed that the color of the box was a little nod to her. She thought that was really sweet.

       “You can go ahead,” he encouraged her. “If you have any questions, just ask.”

       She hesitated to lift the flimsy lid from the top. Partly because she was afraid that seeing the contents wouldn’t help jog her memories at all, and also because she was still pretty weak from the constant dosage of pain meds she’d grown accustomed to. 

       The first things to come out of the box were some polaroids and a bunch of little papers she grabbed that were grouped together. One of the polaroids showed a group photo in front of a campfire with little writing at the bottom that said ‘new years 2020.’ There were some post-it notes with little messages written on them in pencil. They were fading but Y/N could still make out what they said. It was a girl’s handwriting, and there was a little drawing of a pond? Or maybe a lake. 

i drew you a pond since you wanna act like a silly goose all the time. bitch.

               -y/n

       There was another one filled with words instead of a cute drawing, and she assumed this one was a serious matter.

hi, love. i left to go watch the sunrise with coco around 4 am-ish. you probably would’ve wanted to join us, but you look so peaceful when you’re sleeping. and coco said that you’ve been smothering me lately and encouraged me to sneak out. anyways, i’ll probably be back before you see this, but just in case i’m not, don’t call the cops. okay that’s all. in case i never return, i love you. 

                -y/n (under the heavy influence of stella)

       Ruel chimed in to explain. “Yeah, you used to leave me little notes like that sometimes instead of texting like a normal person.” 

       “And you kept them?”

       “Of course I did. I’m not a monster.” He joked and she playfully hit his chest with the stack of notes. Ruel scooted his chair closer to the side of Y/N’s bed and leaned in. “Lets see what else we got in here.”

       There were movie tickets, receipts from restaurants, and even old wristbands from festivals. 

       “Is this what you meant when you said I grow attached to material things?” She laughed on the outside but in reality, Y/N was so infatuated in the idea that a boy would keep a box of things that reminded him of her and their relationship. 

       “Ha yeah, I guess it kind of rubbed off on me after a while.” Ruel reached his hand into the box as well and pulled out a little beaded bracelet. It had a simple pattern of ocean blue and brown wooden beads. He played with it in between his fingers.

       “I remember this. Your cousin made it for us when you brought me to Thanksgiving. She kept running back and forth asking us what our favorite colors were. It was so cute. And she said we had to share it,” he reminisced. 

       He gave her the bracelet which she carefully placed on the wrist that wasn’t connected to an IV. There were mostly pictures in the box. Pictures of Y/N and Ruel in different settings: kissing, posing next to venue signs with his name on it, cooking, etc. She picked up one of the pictures and examined it carefully. 

       “I remember this,” she said in a nonchalant matter. Ruel looked up at her, then back at the picture in her hand.

       “You do?” 

       “Yeah, I remember that whole trip. That was a fun trip. Hmm.” She hummed to herself in bliss with a grin on her face. 

       “Tell me about it,” he grinned back at her. “What do you remember?” She looked down for a while. It was almost like the times they spent together were in secret, and too precious to share with anyone else. She felt a deep connection to someone-whoever it was to make her feel such strong emotions in just the echos of the times they spent together. Y/N began longing for the person who made her experience this type of fondness. The person she was looking for was right in front of her. Why was she holding back?

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       “Okay, how do I say this,” Y/N’s hand snaked up to her head to rake through her hair as she paced in deep thought. She took in a deep breath and turned around to look at him sitting in the hospital chair across the room.

       “I-I want this to be special. I mean, you’ve been so patient and considerate with me. You haven’t tried to rush me into anything at all. But I see the way you look when you think I’m not paying attention. You’re hurting, and I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long to finally give in. Well not, finally give in, but. You know, you know what I’m trying to say right?” She used every ounce of energy she had to walk across the room to face him. She picked him up and brought his face close to hers. 

       “I’m trying to tell you that I love you,” she whispered and smiled softly. Before she could say anything else, Y/N heard the doorknob rattle in desperation to open it. 

       She quickly threw the teddy bear back into the chair and tried to pretend that she was doing anything else. 

       Ruel leaned into the door frame and struggled to keep his balance as he carried a Taco Bell bag and two drinks in his hands. 

       “Oh, let me help you with that,” Y/N rushed over to him to grab the drinks and his eyes grew in shock.

       “Well, it’s nice to see you up and moving so much. The doctor was right, you really have been getting stronger every day.” Y/N smiled up at him with pride as they both settled the food onto her desk. “So, have you heard anything yet?” 

       “Anything about what,” Y/N mumbled in between taking bites of her soft taco. She knew exactly what he was referring to, though.

       “Oh, you know. Like when are you gonna get out of this place? I mean, with the way you’re up and walking now,” he brought his free hand up to rest on the back of her neck as he examined her face with concerned eyes. “It’s been, what, four weeks now? They said four to six weeks, but by the looks of it, you’re healing up really well. You’ve done so good lately.”

       She mouthed ‘thank you’ and gave him another wide smile. Y/N was happy that he was proud of her progress. He played a big part of her growth, though. Through the discomfort and the multiple procedures she had to undergo, Ruel was always there at the side of her bed to rely on. Whether she was up at 4 am crying because she couldn’t remember the names of her dogs or freaking out in excitement after being able to stand up on her own, he was there for it all.

       And as her strength developed each day, so did her trust and love for him. She assumed that it wasn’t the same as their previous relationship, but it was more than enough to keep them happy. He would always tell her that he loved her, but she didn’t say it back. He told her it was fine, that he knew she didn’t really know who he was and he wouldn’t hold it against her. But in return, he needed for her to accept that he still loved her as much as he did before the accident and to be okay with him loving her even if it meant that she couldn’t love him equally back for a while. 

       But after spending so much time with him, Ruel was hardly a stranger to Y/N anymore. He was a friend, a very understanding and attractive friend. She couldn’t ignore the burning sensation she felt deep in her stomach when he would cuddle up close to her on the bed during their movie nights. She couldn’t ignore the desire or the comfort she felt for him any time that he was around (which was very often because Ruel was always around). He told her that he would wait for her, that she should take her time to decide if she wanted to continue their relationship whenever she was ready. He told her that she’d just gone through a major trauma and that she needed to focus on getting better. He said he would wait for her, but a part of her feared that he was only saying this to make her feel better. She feared that he had already accepted that they were just friends, that maybe he’d already began a new romance with some skinny long-haired girl in Sydney and he was just waiting for Y/N to get her strength back so that he could go home to her. 

       “Okay, well I have to tell you something,” she finally came out with. Ruel sat up straight in his chair to give her his full attention. His eyes were fixated on her face and his hands rested in his lap. She found herself lost in thought trying to remember what she wanted to tell him but she couldn’t focus on anything but his beauty. 

       “Did they already tell you whether you’re going home or not?” he laughed a little as he went to grab his drink off of the desk. “Did I miss it when I went to get lunch?” He used the side of his jeans to wipe the water that got on his hand from the cup. His huge hand. The same huge hand that he then used to move the long strands of hair out of his face. He’d previously told her that she did not like the long hair look on him and always encouraged him to get haircuts and shave. In the moment, Y/N couldn’t figure out why the hell anyone would ever encourage him to change his appearance when he looked like that. The long hair and mustache gave him a much more mature look in comparison to the old pictures and videos she would look at of him. She couldn’t understand why anyone would want to cut the hair that she so desperately wanted to run her fingers through. She quickly snapped out of it and shut her eyes so she couldn’t look at the beautiful boy in front of her.

       “I really do have to tell you something,” she started and stopped because she was nervous. With her eyes still closed, she felt Ruel’s hand grab hers.

       “What’s going on, why are you acting so weird?” he let out a nervous laugh and Y/N realized that he was probably feeling the same anxiety as her in the moment. She knew that someone had to be the confident one in this scenario, and she decided that it would be her. She took one last deep breath and let go of it.

       “Do you remember what I told you when I first told you I loved you?”

       “Yes,” he laughed again, “Do you want me to tell you the story again?” She nodded quickly in a child-like manner and looked at him in adoration.

       “It was a little after a month of us dating and I’d just taken you home after we went out driving and just hanging out. I was almost back in the car when I saw you run out of the house, barefoot, yelling at me to wait.” Y/N laughed a little and felt the tension between the two of them begin to melt away. 

       “And then what did I do?”

       “You went into this whole speech about how you felt and how you were very scared to be vulnerable because you were afraid of being hurt. And then you said something that I’d never forget,” he looked up at the ceiling as if the answers were written on the tiles, “you told me that the fear you felt only grew as you fell more in love with me. You said you thought that it would never go away, but you didn’t want it to stop you from embracing the happiness you felt when you were with me. And then you told me you loved me, and that you were scared of me. You said that I made you wanna jump into the fear rather than run away from it. You said you knew that you loved me as soon as you felt scared. Because you knew you had found something worth cherishing. And if it ever went away, you didn’t think you’d survive it.” He looked down. After saying all of that, it still seemed like there was something he was missing. He looked as if he didn’t manage to not break her heart. He was scared too.

       “Ruel?” Y/N let her hands relax and gripped onto his tighter. 

       “Yeah?”

       “I’m scared.” She began to fiddle with his long digits and almost felt hesitation to do anything next.

       “What are you afraid of-” he began, but was interrupted by the connection of her lips onto his. He freed his hand and rose it up to the back of her neck so he could deepen the kiss. They kissed again, and again. They kissed until their faces were red and she broke away for a moment to catch her breath. She smiled at him and he looked back at her in disbelief. 

       “I love you. I really do, Ruel. And I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long but I don’t want to be just friends. I want you in my life like you used to be,” her eyes dropped to her lap and her expression changed, “before everything got so fucked up.”

       He grabbed her face again and began to pepper it with kisses. At this point, Ruel was halfway onto her bed. She brought up her dainty hands to cup his face and she gently pulled away again. Ruel hitched a rushed breath out as he pouted in confusion as to why she pulled away. 

       “Oh yeah, I’m going home today.” She smiled with her teeth and he laughed in pure bliss before grabbing her face again.

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       The boxes piled in the middle of the living room all started to disappear one by one. Y/N watched in awe as Ruel picked up every box and placed it in its proper area. Her legs swung back and forth in boredom while she waited on top of the kitchen counter where Ruel had placed her since she refused to wear shoes on the trip to her apartment.

       “You’re such a good slave,” she told him in a sweet tone as her eyes followed him across the area. He shook his head, barely giving her an ounce of the attention she practically begged for, and continued moving things around. 

        “Honey are you sure you’re gonna be okay on your own like this? You can stay back home a little longer if you’d like,” Y/N’s mother remarked. She looked at her daughter with concern.

        “I’m not alone, I have Ruel. And besides, I’ve already left the nest once before. I should be fine.”

        “Well I guess I’ll be on my way home now. Call me if you need anything. Anything.” Y/N pecked a kiss on her cheek and guided her mom outside.

        By the time she got back into the apartment, the living room was clear of boxes and she moved down the hall in search of her boyfriend. She found Ruel in her bedroom on the edge of the bed hunched over his phone. 

        “What’s so interesting?” She sat down beside him and rested her chin on his shoulder. Once she realized what he was watching, she pulled out one of his airpods so she could listen in. It was from her Youtube channel she started a few months ago. She had faint memories of vlogging herself doing normal things like grocery shopping or going to her brother’s football games. She’d only looked at a few of her storytime videos, including the one where she details how she met Ruel. This was a video she hadn’t seen before, though. It was of her and Ruel together in some resort. It looked like they were on vacation and he explained to her that they were in Amsterdam for some music festival and had decided to make an entire trip out of it since it was so close to their anniversary. They’d coordinated matching outfits for the first weekend and were posing in front of the bathroom mirror together like lovesick idiots.

        “Damn, I’m so jealous of us.”

        Ruel let out a low chuckle at her and skipped through the parts she’d recorded of his performance.

        “Yeah, most people are.” He fast forwarded to a portion of the video after they returned to the hotel. Ruel was in the shower and Y/N was laying on the bed, recently showered, detailing all of the ways she was proud of her boyfriend. He laughed when she poked fun of how he forgot his own lyrics on stage.

        “Well that was almost cute,” he added and locked the phone.

        “Hey, it’s still pretty cute,” she laughed, “You can’t be mad at me for telling the truth, babe.”

        “Babe, huh?” he questioned as he turned to face her.

        “What, is that weird? Or too soon? I mean, you call me ‘bubs’ and ‘love’ all the time,” she looked down and played with the details of her jeans.

        “It’s adorable. I love it. And I love you,” he reassured her as he cupped her face and pulled it in for a puffy kiss. She kissed him back, this time with more dominance. Y/N kissed Ruel like there was a pot of gold hidden somewhere in his mouth that she was determined to get.

        Ruel matched her energy right away. He kissed her back and gripped the back of her neck to guide her face closer into his. They adorned each other with open mouths and full hearts. As they continued, Y/N felt the urge to go further and further with him, exploring his body and getting to know him on a more intimate level. They were so good at making out, it seemed like they’d done it a thousand times before. It felt like she was kissing a lover from a different lifetime, like she’d replayed scenarios over and over which all ended with her loving him. She couldn’t remember ever doing this with him before, but her body remembered. Everything with Ruel came with such ease. Every time he touched her body, she was overcome with euphoria and only craved more. She craved being closer to him, kissing him deeper.

        “Mmm, take this off please,” she tugged on his shirt and he quickly pulled it off before resuming his actions. Y/N felt herself falling into an intoxicated state as she moaned against his mouth. He responded to her by wrapping his hand around her thigh and pulling it closer against him. They both began to move in sync with each other, both giving and taking as their bodies danced a routine they knew too well. Y/N was so distracted by Ruel that she didn’t even hear her mother walk back in through the front door. She only whined when he pulled his face away from hers.

        “Why’dyoustop,” she breathed out. She was out of breath and watched him with puppy dog eyes as he stood up.

        “Your mom is back,” he stated flatly. He was clearly out of breath too and he was trying to calm himself down so he could see what was going on in the front.

       “...so?” she gave him a blank stare and patted on his side of the bed to join her again, “she can let herself out.”

       “Don’t worry, bubs. We’ve got time,” he chuckled to himself and pulled his shirt back on over his head. Y/N sighed and jumped from her side of the bed to join Ruel in the living room.

       “I’m sorry, hun. I forgot the most important box: your things from the hospital.” Y/N’s mother placed a small box on the counter and tapped the top of it lightly, “This is what you had on you when the crash happened. There’s not much in there, just the clothes you were wearing, your wallet, your phone,”

       “My phone?” Her eyes perked up. So did Ruel’s. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. I bet there’s a bunch of clues in there to help jog my memory,” she picked up the box and skipped down the hallway to drop it off. 

       “I’m pretty sure it’s dead, so you’ll have to find a charger for it. You probably have the same kind.” Her mom gestured towards Ruel, who looked like he’d just seen a ghost. His eyes were fixated in thought, emotionless and dazed in a trance.

        “Huh? Oh yeah, probably. Sure.” He snapped out of his guilty state quickly and turned to see Y/N coming back from her bedroom.       

        “Was that it, Mom? Cause we were just about to go out and get some food before it gets dark.” They both said goodbye and hugged Y/N’s mother. Once the door was shut behind her, Y/N grabbed Ruel’s hand with a quickness. His worries were suddenly gone as she led him down the hall. 

        It wasn’t long before they’d continued right where they left off. Y/N was still indulging herself in him and embracing the comfort she felt in his arms. She gripped the fabric of his shirt into her fists to deepen the kiss and felt the vibration from his mouth into hers as he let out muffled moans. With each kiss, she found herself thinking about all of the things she couldn’t wait to do with him before another thought popped into her mind and snapped her out of the daydream. She pulled away from him and turned her head towards the box.

        “I’ve been wondering what was left on my phone,” she gestured to the dresser. “I need to plug it up so I can see what was going on before I lost my memory. It would be cool to see who I last talked to right before my life was ruined, right?” She laughed and began to sit up. Ruel grabbed her hand and lightly pulled it so she could come back down to him.

        “I thought you wanted to do this, yeah? I mean hey, this is our first official night together alone. We can look into the phone later, right?”

        Y/N nodded and laid back down next to him. “Hmmm, you’re right. This first, phone later,” she declared before connecting their lips once more. As Ruel rolled his lanky body on top of hers, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder why Ruel was so against her looking at her phone. Was there a dirty secret in there that he didn’t want her to find? She dismissed her paranoid thoughts and continued.

a/n: okay, so that’s that on that. ugh what is on that phone that he doesn’t want her to see???? i hope this makes sense, i’ve reread it so many times and it seems like crap but i’m still going to post it. thank you for the support of my page, and please send me asks with what fics you would like to see next ;)

[mistymark]

the one with all the spoilers.

part of the 50 things you said project // mark lee x reader // 4.2k words // university!au // strangers to lovers!au // masterlist // send in requests here

summary; things you said when we were the only ones left 

warnings; drunk donghyuck, jeno and jaemin

request; this is for the 50 things you said works. I would like 31 with Mark, but could it be at the same roof party of that Renjun fic? I just thought it would be suuuuuper cute if oc was invited to Haechan's party and instead hanging out with Mark the entire night. Thank you!! 😘 (you can read the first fic here)

notes; I know it has been a loooonnnggg time since ive posted but ive been really trying to make this specific story as good as possible,,,, so I hope y’all like it. (sporadically edited)

You were late. You were so very late, and the bumper-to-bumper traffic was not helping. “Are we far away?” you asked the taxi driver, leaning forward in your seat only to see red brake lights and a long line of stopped vehicles in front of you.

“It might be faster to get out and walk, miss,” the driver informs you, leaning out his window to see what has caused such a delay on the normally-flowing road.

You thank the taxi driver and hand over the amount of money due, with a tip for his troubles, and run down the street, passing all the stopped cars in a blur. Without looking at what has caused the build up of traffic, you look down at your phone, hastily trying to figure out what street Donghyuck lives on now. You had previously been neighbours, for almost two years, but he had left a few months ago, opting to move in with one of his friends in a nicer apartment a few blocks down from you.

He’d sent you detailed instructions on how to get there from your workplace, knowing you’d get lost, but you were still unable to interpret his badly drawn Snapchat diagrams.

You eventually found the bakery he was referring to in his map, and turned left, walking towards some large apartment buildings. You figured you were in the right place and walked in, making your way up to his floor. When you arrived at the apartment, 6G, you couldnt hear any noise apart from the soft murmuring of two people talking and you hoped you weren’t too late and everyone had already gone home. You’d told Donghyuck you had work that day, and said you’ll be a bit late, but thirty minutes after your guaranteed time of arrival; you still hadn’t shown.

You knocked on the door. The murmurs stopped and you heard the door being unlocked, before being opened. Your eyes widened in shock at the boy before you, and you instantly looked down at your phone, suddenly unsure if you’d come to the right place as you took in the (rather attractive) boy’s appearance. He was dressed in flannel pyjama pants and a plain black tee, round glasses perched on his nose and a bowl of popcorn in his hand. He appeared to be the only one in the apartment. “Um, is this building 127 on 92nd?”

He smiled, “Yeah. Are you here for Hyuck’s birthday?” He turned around slightly, placing the bowl on a nearby table as you nodded shyly before opening the door wider to let you in. He made a gesture to his clothes, “Sorry, I thought everyone had already arrived.” 

“Oh! Er, no problem,” you tried to smile back and hide the shame you were feeling, before asking where you should put your present.

He gestured to the dining table, where various presents had been stacked haphazardly on top of each other. When he caught a glimpse of the tag on your gift, his eyes widened in realisation, “You’re y/n! Hyuck said you were going to be late. I completely forgot.”

You laughed with him, stealing a glance at the TV behind him, which happened to be playing your favourite TV show. No wonder you thought you’d heard voices when you first arrived.

He gestured to the window beside you, ‘giving you directions’ to get to the roof where the rest of the party was being held.

“You’re not coming?” You asked, surprised. 

He leant against the couch and patted the back fondly, “Nope, I’m staying here. Holding down the fort.”

“Just like Hyuck not to invite his own roommate to his party,” you grinned mischievously, not giving him the chance to dispute as you disappeared up the fire escape.

When you climbed over the edge and onto the roof, you sought out Donghyuck, as he was pretty much the only person you would know at this party. You’d met a few of his friends before while you were neighbours - Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun, specifically - but there were at least thirty people up here who you’d never even seen before.

You found Hyuck talking to two boys by the entryway, the latter both holding fireworks and with disappointed looks on their faces. He looked up as you approached, “Look who finally decided to show up!” Donghyuck patted the taller boy’s shoulder as he left and walked over to you, arms out for a hug.

You hugged him, laughing, “Don’t say it like you weren’t three hours late to my birthday.” He squeezed you in response.

“Have you seen Renjun, Jeno and Jaemin, yet? They’ll take care of you if you need it. I know you haven't met a lot of these people yet,” he smiled at you happily, his childish grin showing. He was evidently so happy and you couldnt help but smile back.

“I haven’t actually. I just arrived,” you said, glancing around. You saw Jeno and Jaemin playing drinking games in the dark with a few other people, and Renjun sitting down by the drinks table, alone.

You bid Hyuck goodbye as you walked towards Renjun, greeting him with a one-armed hug and grabbing a drink, before sitting down beside him on the stretched out lawn chair.

“It’s been ages since I last saw you,” he said, clinking his bottle against yours in a toast. “Have you been here the entire night?”

You sighed, “No, I just arrived twenty minutes ago. I had work and then traffic was bad and - it was a whole mess. I’m glad I came, though. I havent seen you and your dumb friends in ages.”

He laughed with you, recalling all the outrageous pranks and activities the 00 line had attempted whilst Hyuck lived next door to you. “I bet you don’t miss us,” he looked away, watching Jeno cheer for someone taking a shot and smiling.

“Believe it or not but you guys were better than the young married couple I live next to now,” you wrinkled your nose. “Let’s just say I try to take night shifts as often as possible.”

He cringed at your words and laughed, before looking up as Donghyuck approached, rather frantic, “Hey, y/n, could you duck downstairs and grab the case of beer in my bedroom? Mark will show you where it is.”

You stood up immediately, “Of course.” You turned to leave before turning back, “Um, quick question: who is Mark?”

Donghyuck had already rushed off, eyeing a stumbling partygoer by the drinks table worriedly. Renjun stayed sitting on the chair, lifting his beer up to his lips, “Mark’s Donghyuck’s roommate. The guy probably opened the door for you.”

You feel your eyebrows raise in realisation, and you’re suddenly embarrassed that you hadn't previously asked him his name, especially since you thought he was rather cute. “Oh,” you turn to leave. “Tell Hyuck I’ll be back in a second.”

You entered the apartment through the window, climbing in and attempting to not kick the flowerpot off the shelf beside it as you did. You landed nimbly on your feet and clapped your hands together, causing Mark to jump in his seat on the couch and turn around to you, “Oh God! You scared me.” You walked in the direction of the bedrooms, briefly checking which part of the show he was watching and he called out after you, “Hey! Bathroom is here!”

You stopped in the corridor, the doors to the two bedrooms on either side of you. You pointed to each one in turn, “I’m looking for Hyuck’s room. Which one?”

He didn’t bother turning around, his eyes glued to the screen, as he yelled, “Left!”

You searched Donghyuck’s room for the case of beer, before standing up with your hands on your hips, “Hey, Mark? Where’s the beer?”

“Closet!” His voice was muffled by a handful of food.

“It’s not here!” You shouted back, before mumbling under your breath, “Unless I’m blind.”

He leant back on the couch to better see where you were and his mouth fell open when he realised you were in the wrong room, his room. “Oh, um, y/n?”

“Yeah?” You poked your head around the door and leant against the wall, your cheek squishing against the doorframe. Mark’s lips quirked up a fraction at your pout.

“That’s... that’s my room. Hyuck’s is the other one.”

You immediately jumped back from the door, trying not to make eye contact as you shut the door and went into the bedroom opposite, “Oh, sorry. I thought you said left.” You attempted to hide your blush that was rising up your neck due to your embarrassment, wondering how how you could have been so stupid as to start going through a stranger’s bedroom.

“Right, yeah, sorry. My bad. Are you taking it up to the roof?” You heard him call from the couch, and you pulled your phone out to check the time. 

You placed it on the bed and eyed the case again, “Yeah.”

You could hear him let out a laugh, “Good luck with that.”

Stumbling out of Hyuck’s bedroom, the case in hand, you glared at him, “Gee, thanks for your help.”

Mark smirked, “You’re welcome.” Smartass, you thought.

You made your way to the door, before turning around, quickly shouting before it closed behind you, “By the way, she dies in the next episode! He ends up marrying her best friend!”

As the door slams shut, from you pulling it with your foot, you hear him groan and shout behind you. Smirking to yourself, you make your way up the stairs.

Hyuck thanks you for bringing all the beer up and you smile, insisting it was no problem. You crack a cold one with the boys one open and look around the crowd, Donghyuck departing once again to talk to his guests.

You spot Jeno under one of the food tables, rummaging through boxes of supplies as Jaemin stands behind him, his posture slack and foot tapping against the ground in an attempt to appear casual. Jeno whoops in success and jumps up, a roll of duct tape in hand. You grin at them, knowing they’re up to no good but not wanting to spoil their fun. 

You don't see Renjun anywhere, so you reach for your phone to check your messages, only to find the pocket you normally keep it in is empty. You pat yourself down, searching all your pockets for your phone, before realising you probably left it in Donghyuck’s room when you went to fetch more beer.

Climbing down the fire escape again, you enter Donghyuck’s apartment and make your way to his room, not bothering to greet Mark this time. He does a double take as he sees you walking, staring after you and hurriedly looking away as soon as you walk out of the bedroom, your hand sliding your phone into your pocket.

When you make your way back to the window, he refuses to take his eyes off the screen, “Hey, does she really die next episode?”

You turn around and watch the screen momentarily, making sure you got the right episode and weren't getting mixed up. When you don’t respond, Mark turns his head back a little. He watches you silently.

Your eyes snap down to his and you watch his eyebrows raise every so slightly, “Yeah, I’m sure. She goes to the wedding planner after they get engaged and-”

“They get engaged?!”

“Oh, yeah. It’s real cute. He’s all like ‘You’re so gorgeous will you do me a gosh darn favour and be my gosh darn wife’ and then she says ‘Oh YES I love you so passionately, my love is like a thousand burning stars!” He laughs as you lower and raise your voice to imitate the actors.

You quirk an eyebrow at him before turning around to leave, but he spins around in his seat, his arms coming to rest on top of the couch, “And then what happens?”

He’s staring at you so cutely, you can’t help but blush a little bit, “I - er... well, she says yes, obviously and then- OH WAIT NO THIS IS THE GOOD PART SHH!” You quickly run forward and snatch the remote from the arm of the couch, turning up the volume and staring at the TV with wide eyes.

You’re standing behind the couch now, subconsciously clutching the remote close to your chest as you watch the plot unravel on the screen, unaware of the fact that Mark is watching you.

When five minutes go by, and the credits are rolling, you start walking backwards towards the fire escape, your eyes on Mark, “I told you the engagement was lame. Next episode is the engagement party, I think, so enjoy that.”

“You don’t want to keep watching?” He asks, standing up with the empty chip bowl in his hand. “Hyuck won’t mind.”

You hesitate. You’d been here for less than an hour, and only spoken to Donghyuck briefly because he was so busy. And if you were being completely honest, you had jumped at the chance to help with the beer just because you didn’t have anything else to do. While you’d been chatting to Renjun, other people had come up and introduced themselves, but you either couldn’t remember their name or weren’t interested in talking to them again after your meagre conversation.

You bite the corner of your lip in thought, before nodding slowly, watching as he empties another packet of chips into the large bowl. “Sure. And I promise, no more spoilers.” 

He grinned at your answer and then pouted mockingly before walking back over to the couch. It was only now that you realised how ill-fitting Donghyuck’s furniture was. When he had moved in with Mark, they had obviously kept whatever furniture they previously owned and put it in the new apartment, despite the fact that Mark’s modern, stark white dining table and chairs contrasted to Donghyuck’s old brown leather sofa and wooden table. 

The three-seater couch sat opposite the TV, and you happily plopped yourself down on one side, Mark placing the bowl of chips between you two in offering. He pressed play on the remote.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but it was getting late, and you were at least another five episodes into the show. Mark had assured you Donghyuck told his drunken guests to leave via the stairwell rather than the fire escape (to prevent any injuries) so you were left virtually undisturbed. Two people (one who Mark addressed as Johnny) climbed in through the window and left, and you assumed the tall boy was taking the other home.

Renjun poked his head in the front door as he left to bid you a quick farewell and a ‘let’s catch up soon’, one arm around the much larger bodies of drunk Jaemin and Jeno. The party was still going on. When you slid your phone off the table, you noticed it was past midnight, and you were growing tired. You leant your head back and, when you looked over at Mark, your eyes slowly shutting, you realised he was already passed out on the couch.

It was sometime after three when Donghyuck stumbled into the apartment, carrying a box of decorations and trays. He had kicked the door open, dismissing the loud slam it made as it swung into the wall, and placed the box at the entrance of the apartment, before promptly disappearing into his room and face planting onto his bed.

The loud bang had disturbed your peaceful slumber, and your eyes began fluttering open, your mind screaming at you to go back to sleep. You could’ve gone back to sleep right there and then, bringing the pillow closer to your face but it was at that moment that you realised this was not a pillow, but was actually the soft black material of Mark’s shirt. Apparently, while you were sleeping, you had leant towards him slightly, your body weight causing you to lean diagonally towards Mark, who had shifted so that he was now with sleeping with one arm on the arm rest and one around you, sitting up slightly due to his previous sitting position.

His arm was wrapped around your shoulders, holding you to his stomach as you used him as a pillow, his legs outstretched and off the side of the couch. You attempted to move out of his hold, but he groaned, his other arm reaching down to hold you in place, “No. Stay.”

Suddenly, there was another loud bang as Donghyuck threw his bedroom door open in search of water and began making his way to the kitchen. The sudden noise made you jump in your half-asleep state, and you felt Mark stir as he blinked his eyes open, looking down at you in shock.

You were sure your face mirrored his, the surprise evident on your face.

You pushed yourself up and began gathering your things. It was at this point Donghyuck noticed you, “Oh, y/n! What a surprise! I’m so glad you came tonight, I had a wonderful time.” His eyes flickered to the couch as Mark sat up drearily, “Hey Ma- oh. My mistake. Forgive me. Have a good night.”

Donghyuck disappeared back into his bedroom, the door slamming shut behind him and you sighed, “I’d better get going.”

“What? You’re exhausted and it’s 3:30am. As if I’m going to let you drive home at this hour,” Mark said, standing up and fixing up the cushions on the couch. His eyes were half closed as he brought the dirty bowl to the kitchen.

“I was going to walk, or Uber,” you said.

“That’s dumb; you could literally be murdered. And that’s impractical - what Ubers would be out at this hour?”

“Well, how do you suggest I get home then?” Maybe it was the tiredness, but his snarky smartass attitude was getting on your nerves again. He was acting the same way he had been when you’d come to collect the beer case.

“I’m saying you should stay here,” Mark’s voice changed, becoming softer, quieter. 

“I shouldn’t-,” you immediately attempted to dismiss his kindness, but he argued back.

“It’s fine, you can sleep in my bed,” he watched your eyes widen and hid a smile as he glanced down at the floor. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Right, of course,” you said, eventually relenting and then helping him grab the last of the snacks from the couch.

He gestured towards his room, “Well, you know which one is mine. I have an early class tomorrow so I might not see you, but Donghyuck will be here so...” Mark set a pillow down, smirking at you, as he settled in on the couch, disappearing from view from where you stood behind it, “Sleep well.”

When you walked backed into Mark’s room, you couldnt help but notice how obviously Mark it was. When you were in it the first time, you hadn’t really been paying attention to it, focussing on finding the beer Hyuck had stashed. Now, you could fully appreciate the colours, the decorations, the organisation, everything that was completely Mark.

You noticed a spare blanket and pillow on his bed, and immediately pulled them into the living room, dropping them on Mark’s stomach before making your way back to his bedroom. You didn’t let yourself watch for his reaction.

The next morning, you woke up to Donghyuck lying across his couch, his hand clutching his head as he groaned in pain. He had shrieked when he first saw you walking out of Mark’s bedroom, thinking he was the only one home, and then almost cried because his own shout was so loud. You began to make him breakfast, but he insisted he couldn't eat and would wait until Mark came home from class, so you made yourself pancakes.

“Hey, can I get Mark’s number?” you asked casually, biting a piece of pancake.

Immediately, the younger boy sat bolt upright from the couch, his eyes wide in shock, “What?”

“Err... your roommate. Can I have his number?” You continued eating your breakfast, watching him closely.

“What do you want his number for?” Hyuck questioned, his elbow coming to rest on the back of the couch as he pressed his palm to his forehead.

“I wanted to thank him,” you said, straightening your back subconsciously at the subtle accusation in Donhyuck’s question. “I had a good time last night.”

“Ughhhh, y/n! I don’t want to hear that!”

“What? Oh, God, no. Donghyuck, no! Gross,” you turned back to face your plate, avoiding the boy’s gaze.

He sighed, dropping dramatically back onto the couch, “Fine, whatever. Grab me my phone, then. It’s on the bench over there, I think.”

“Uhh, what happened to it?” The phone screen was smashed beyond repair, and the phone was bent slightly in half. The forward-facing camera was dislodged, and the buttons were stiff, as if, when pressed, nothing would happen. When you pointed this fact out to Donghyuck, he groaned and threw it at the wall, ignoring the shattering sound of the glass screen as he flopped backwards onto the couch.

“Mark will know,” he mumbled into a pillow.

“Well, thanks for letting me stay last night. I’ll see you soon, okay?” You began to put on your coat as you searched for your handbag in the messy apartment.

The door swung open and Mark walked in, and you had to remind yourself to keep breathing. He was dressed casually in blue jeans and a plain white tee, with a dark bomber jacket to compliment the outfit. He wasn’t wearing glasses today, and you were unsure whether he looked better or worse without them.

He hung up his jacket on the rack, briefly glancing at both you and Hyuck as he did, “Oh! Y/n! I didn’t think you’d be here when I got back.” He shot you a grin, but you missed it as you finally grabbed your bag and slung it over you shoulder.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m heading off now. Thanks for letting me stay the night,” you walked past him to the door, sending him a small smile before yelling at Haechan just to frustrate him in his hungover state.

You left, and walked down the stairs of the building, berating yourself for not asking Mark for his number. The guy was easily the most attractive person you’d ever seen, and you liked the same TV shows. What you were thinking was: you’re basically soulmates.

With newfound determination, you spun on your heel and marched back to the apartment door, convincing yourself you were confident enough to get the boy’s number. You breathed deeply, before raising your hand to knock.

Before your hand could make contact with the wood, the door swung open, and suddenly a body slammed rather strongly into you. You didn’t need to look up to know it was Mark, you recognised his scent, and his voice when he began apologising.

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry!” His hands gripped your waist as he simultaneously tried to hold you up and push you out of his way gently. 

“No, no, it’s-”

Finally, his brain seemed to have caught up to the situation. “Hey,” he breathed.

“Hi,” you smiled up at him. One arm was still wrapped securely around your waist, holding you flush against his body.

His eyes awkwardly flittered elsewhere, focussing on anything and everything as long as it wasn’t your face, “I, uh, was trying to catch you.”

You looked at your hand that was placed on his chest, “Well, here I am.” There was a lengthy pause. “What’s up?”

He cocked his head to the side, before pulling you up and slightly stepping back, clearing his throat,  “Wait. What are you doing here? Did you forget something?”

You glanced at your feet, suddenly insecure that he had just let you go whilst you were here trying to confess your feelings. “I... No. I actually came back to ask you for your number.”

His face lit up at your words, a large, happy smile stretching across his face as he suddenly reached into his pocket, producing a small square of paper, “I was going to catch you and give you this.”

You raised an eyebrow at it before plucking it from his fingers and opening the note. The words ‘call me’ were printed above his phone number, and below, a message:

spoiler alert! we go on a date :)

You laughed at his reference to the night before, during which you had spoiled many episode endings. 

“Well? Is that a yes? I can’t tell,” he asked, stepping forward a little.

“Definitely,” you smiled, reaching your arms up to wrap around his neck as your faces drew closer, and closer, and closer, and-

“MARK, CAN YOU PLEASE MAKE ME A QUESADILLA?” Donghyuck’s voice interrupted what was almost a kiss, and Mark giggled, resting his forehead against yours.

“We’ll continue this later.” Then he stepped back, gave your hand a squeeze and shut the door of his apartment.

there u have it kiddos!!! my first post in like two months lol (sorry, love u)

[bastiodonz]

Well, uh, I have to admit I somehow never even saw your OSAS stuff until you mentioned it and I looked through the tag?? And I can’t really get what it’s about from just the art but it looks rad and I’m always down for original works (I feel you on drawing shit for your own stuff instead of actually progressing the story) so have at it! Tell me about OSAS, anything from what the world’s like to what the characters like to eat!

akgajdagh honestly thats valid!! osas tends to fly under a lot of peoples radars 😔✊

and also algjakdg thank y ou!!! ive been trying to work on osas for a long while so im rly touched that u think its cool and also that im still Relatable™ ;;w;; i can,, talk a lot,,,, abt osas,,,,,,,, im answering the two questions u gave (what the worlds like and what characters like to eat) and just gonna sneak it under a cut

yeehaw!! 

ok so the world?? ive mentioned it several times but the worlds called uxordra!!! if u go back and find stuff u MAY find that like. i have called it uxodra or uxorda and honestly?? im not sure which one was right so i mashed the two together called it uxordra and called it a day

its ruled by kingdoms bc its. kinda like every other fantasy world like that. note that i started working on osas when i was like. in 6th grade so u have to rly bare with me here bc all the ocs have those 6th grade oc Tragic Backstories or are ocs from a fandom that ive reworked to put them in here. and also if u look closely u would be able to pick out the inspo for some parts of osas.

ALGJAD but yeah its separated into kingdoms!! surprisingly, there isnt a lot of conflict between the kingdoms in the story. surprisingly bc like. thats the plot for several fantasy stories huh. but thats mainly bc 6th grade me didnt even think abt making a fuckin map of uxordra. like ok i get it. but why. 6th grade me i couldve evolved the story so much if only i had a map but instead i didnt and now the story that i came up w rly only mentions only a few different kingdoms and im too invested w it so im too lazy to change it and figure out how to change it. and also they have like. no names

and for that im serious i mean. the kingdom that osas is mainly set in? thats like. the only one named so far. its called valkarie and yes its like valkyrie but just iwth an a instead of a y. see its bc one day 7th grade me realized that i needed a name and came up with one on the spot. but ive been thinking of it and refering to it as valkarie so much that now thats what its called. its a big oof. its arguably one of the biggest kingdoms next to this other one that i dont have a name for??

five out of the main group was born in valkarie!! while iovita ( hes the one w curly hair thats mainly sketched in green) was born in that other big kingdom!! that other kingdom (which is REALLY need a name for considering its the origin place of one of the MAIN CHARACTERS) is like. ok so valkarie is rly just. powerful as a kingdom. but that other kingdom?? theyre just funky! theyre a big trading hub and outsource of crops and everyone thinks theyre cool.

valkarie is. kinda mess. as ive mentioned before yeah no one rly likes them but?? theyre powerful?? they have a big military and iovita comes over here and immediately hisses thru his teeth bc man this is. hm. this seems Excessive. but in their semi defense there was already a good amount of guards and knights and shit but then this whole entire thing happened in ruresi and now all them from there moved to the capitol and its just agakdagjajd Too Many Guards! but yeah like. they also are kinda hggjghjdjg-ing bc there was this whole entire thing called the idarist war which will eventually be elaborated in osas once i actually WORK ON IT!!!!!!!!!! and like it rly just depleted a lot of resources and threw people out of wack

oh my god and i like. just realized i forgot to put this here. but like. theres also gods!!! whenever theres a character in the osas tag that doesnt look human?? tahts a god!!! they just kinda exist and give people things and sometimes start droughts like a fuckin idiot!!!!!!!!! aglajdajg ill probably explain them more in osas. again if i actually WORK ON IT!!!!!!

but yeah. the kingdoms are rather peaceful when it comes to each other. the real conflict most of the time is within the kingdoms themselves?? and at the start of osas its not even that full of conflict. the real peak of hardship was like 80 years ago during the idarist war but most (i say most bc. ruresi.) of valkarie has recovered or at least. recovered as much as they could.

and uhhh what the characters like to eat??

bodil (the ginger one with the teal-ish coat!!) likes salty things!! admittedly its bc her diet kinda. Sucks??? she lives off of preserved things and things merope serves (which is all bar food so. lots of salt.) she also likes milk. she is a simple lesbian she sees milk she drinks

merope (the one w an eyepatch and vitiligo and also sharp chompers………..) really likes stew!!! his aunt used to make it a lot when he was younger and its been his favorite food since!! he makes so many salty things that at this point hes kinda exhausted

aludra (the one with those red marks and blank eyes?? shes mostly drawn in red) cant eat anymore. shes a ghost. BUT anyways she also likes stew. but she also loves dry food that is rly easy to snack on (like crackers or smn!!) bc she kinda used to like just sit in her room and Brood.

iovita (yeah ive mentioned him already. hes the one in green) likes pies!! he likes fruits and as such was like “holy shit you can bake SO MANY fruits into pies. he really likes everything really?? bc yeah his kingdom is known for their abundance of farmland which means lots of fruits and meat and vegetables and its just. wild. but he really doesnt like sour things. conan eats a lemon in front of him and iovita realizes that Their Gods Will Not Save Them.

alfjadka yeah conan (has the light hair w dark roots, that emo bang, and drawn in grey) likes sour things. or so he says. he really likes sweets actually. especially caramel. his mom used to sneak him candies and its a mixture of just that positive association and also just. sweets good. that just makes him really love candy.

sorin (has the bandage over eye and the burn scars. also a ginger. mostly drawn in a yellow-gold) does really?? have??? a favorite food???or a favorite thing to eat???? he takes what he gets and at the least he knows that bread at the least is semi-reliable. ruresi while it was still up wasnt especially known for their food and it really shows?? well at least, sorin says that but conan has noticed that sorin sometimes stares at cakes for a long time………..

(conan buys every cake he sees sorin staring at then always eat a bit before going “oh wow!! i cant finish this sorin u can have it”. sorin is always a bit skeptical abt actually getting it and every other bite asks if conan is Really Sure He Can Have All This. but he eat its every time.)

[forever-rogue]

Blend In

Summary: Y/N had always been an expert at blending in. That was until Bucky found out her secrets and encourages her to deal with all her demons.

A/N: Hey guys! This is the 1st part of 2 (maybe 3?). It’s just an idea I got, and I decided to run with it. Hope you all enjoy :)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None

PART II | PART III | PART IV | PART V

Ever since he had arrived at the Avenger’s compound several months ago, Bucky had mostly tried to blend in. He didn’t want to stick out after all he had done and the notorious reputation he had earned. While the truth was slowly coming out that he wasn’t some sort of psychopath without a conscience, he still kept his head down and hoped no one would notice him. He didn’t speak up, didn’t argue and accepted what he was told. Needless to say, he was so incredibly happy with how much the team had accepted him, and left him to his own devices when he wanted.

One thing he was quick to notice was that everyone had their own relationships and dynamics, and for the most part they all got along very well. Nat and Wanda had their close relationship, to Sam and Steve always joking around with one another, Vision and Bruce always talking about something, even Peter Parker had made friends with them all, coming around when he was allowed by his Aunt May.

Then there was Y/N. She wasn’t like everyone else, clowning around and joking with everyone. She got along with everyone for the most part, was included with all the group activities, but she spent most of her time alone, isolated even. She was short and small and had long wavy hair. She was a classic sort of beauty, the kind everyone usually wanted to be around. But not Y/N, she seemed content to be on the outside looking in.

Bucky wasn’t sure why he was so drawn to her, but he often caught himself watching her. He observed the way she smiled lightly to herself when Sam would tease Steve or the way she scrunched her when they were watching scary films during movie nights. Maybe it was because he knew how hard it was to fit in when you were so different from everyone else. What he also noticed was that whenever she smiled, the smile would never truly reached her eyes. Her laugh was always musical but was never deep or hearty, the kind that would leave you making wheezing sounds.

One rainy afternoon, the team was lounging around the tower engrossed in their various activities, Bucky spotted Y/N sitting in the living room on, the television was on playing some movie in the background, but she was absorbed in the book she was reading. He didn’t want to interrupt her for no reason, so he tried to think of an excuse, “hey, Y/N?”

She looked up and met his bright blue eyes and gave him a once over. He always intimated her a bit, not because of who he was or what he had done, but because he was so handsome, and always seemed kind. He usually didn’t say much, but his actions usually indicated that he cared about his other team members. Her lips lifted in a small smile, “what’s up, Bucky?”

“Do you, uhh, want a cup of tea?” He mentally kicked himself. A cup of tea, that’s what his mind came up with. He wanted to crawl in a hole right then and there. If that wasn’t a lame and obvious excuse, he didn’t know what was.

“No, thank you,” she quickly responded before lowering her eyes back down to her book, “it was nice of you to offer though.”

‘“Yeah, I figured I’d, you know, make myself one, and I saw you, so I figured I’d offer, with it being all cold and rainy,” he rubbed the back of his neck as he kept stammering. Y/N didn’t move her eyes off of her book but nodded in response, “would you want to get dinner or something later?”

Y/N was surprised at his sudden request, but secretly delighted. Just as much as Bucky observed her, she watched him when no one else was looking. She left as though he was somewhat like her: a member of the team, but also more distant. Although she was okay with spending only a minimal amount of time with the others, something about him made her curious, “Yeah, Buck. That sounds nice.”

“Really? Great, I’ll uhh, you can let me know when you’re ready to go and we could go to Rosso’s?” He was surprised she actually accepted, but wasn’t about to start complaining. He wanted to get to know more about her.

Y/N nervously pulled down the sleeves of her sweater as she gently knocked on Bucky’s door. She heard him stumble around before he opened the door, “hey Y/N. Ready to go?”

“I am if you are,” she responded softly. She stepped aside as he exited his room, looking handsome as ever. It was almost like he didn’t even have to try, he just always looked so good. Classic and handsome, just as he was a bit of classic, she figured.

“Definitely! Let’s go,” he took in her long wavy locks, flowing down her back, and her simple outfit. Even down up so simply, he thought she looked so beautiful. The only thing that struck him as weird was her sweater, it wasn’t summer anymore, but it wasn’t exactly cold either. He hadn’t opted for a sweater but was dressed in a short sleeved button up and well fitting jeans.

They walked closely next to each other to the restaurant in relative silence, but it didn’t feel awkward or anything, it was comfortable. Neither of them felt the need to fill the time with a bunch of endless small talk.

When they got to the small restaurant, Bucky held open the door and ushered her in. They were seated at a small table near the back, with a window overlooking the quiet street. It was quaint and romantic, a nice spot for a first date. Bucky wasn’t quite sure if that’s what this was, but he secretly hoped it was.

They looked over the menu for a few moments before deciding to go with a pizza that Bucky recommended. He swore it would knock her socks off.

“This better be good Barnes,” she laughed a little bit as they handed back their menus.

“Oh don’t worry, you’ll love it,” he smiled back at her, “can I ask you something?”

Y/N’s eyes widened for a moment while her mind raced and she tried to imagine what he could possibly ask. Did he know her secret? “Sure, go ahead.”

“How did you end up working with the Avengers?” He had realized he never knew why she was there. He had seen her go on different missions, usually ones he wasn’t involved with, and he knew she was a good and well trained fighter, but she still seemed somewhat like a weird addition to the mix of everyone else.

“Oh,” she let out a sigh of relief. Her secret was safe for now, “I thought you knew? I’m inhuman.”

“Inhuman?” He had heard of them before, but didn’t think many existed in their world. They didn’t have the greatest reputation, and they usually stuck to their own kind.

“Well, not fully. I’m half, I suppose,” she shrugged her shoulders lightly, “my dad was also inhuman, but my mother was human.”

“Oh?” He raised his eyebrows, “do you have powers then?”

“I do. I can manipulate thoughts,” she noticed the look of concern on his face, “don’t worry, Bucky, I would never do that to you or any of the team. I only do it when it’s absolutely necessary, so usually on missions. I think it’s wrong otherwise, you know, to try and change people’s thoughts? It’s kind of like using Jedi mind tricks on the bad guys.”

He laughed out loud at her Star Wars reference, “That’s fair enough. Seems like it could be handy though. Do you wave your hands around when you do it?”

“I mean, it has it’s moments,” she agreed, laughing a little bit, “I usually don’t, it’s not necessary. But sometimes, I add in some jazz hands for show.”

The waiter arrived and placed the loaded pizza in front of them. It smelled like heaven, and Bucky wasted no time in digging in and putting several slices onto his plate.Y/N hesitated for a moment, not unnoticed by Bucky, “go on, I guarantee you’ll love it.”

“I better,” she stuck her tongue out at him and reached to grab herself a slice. That’s when her heart almost stopped as she realized her sweater sleeve had rolled up and she heard a gasp from Bucky’s mouth.

“Y/N, what’s-”

“I-I have to go. Sorry, I just can’t. I’m sorry,” Y/N could barely think straight as she hastily stood up from the table, pulled down her sleeve and started heading for door, almost running into another table, tears threatening to run down her cheeks.

“Y/N! Please wait, Y/N!” Bucky stood up, throwing money down on the table as he started to run after, “Y/N!”

But she was nowhere to be found. Y/N had run down the street and turned down an alley, waiting for him to give up looking for and heading back home.

She knew she had vowed never to use her powers on her team, but she was willing to make an exception this time, if it meant her secret was safe.

[plainlybiasa]

on life : 2021.01.09

I'm at a point in life where I have no idea what I want to do and how to sustain living.

Also, stuck in this loop since a few years back : "I'm running into a wall re : work" "I think I need a new job where I can better use my expertise" "What even is my expertise" "Can I afford changing jobs now?" "Is there even anyone who wants to employ me? In this economy?"

I've been feeling bad about my current job since idk 2019 maybe? But I just held it in ofc, for financial reasons. Then I started feeling weird physically some time in Oct 2020 iinm, where I'd feel some kind of rapid heartbeat, nauseous, & lost appetite due to the nausea (like I didn't feel like eating because I felt there's a lump in my throat, I'm scared I'll throw up if I eat more than half of what I usually eat).

Then in Nov 2020 I went to a local clinic because the condition have been continuing for a few weeks & didn't subside. The clinic ran some tests -- ECG for the heartbeat, drawing some blood to check for abnormalities -- and they didn't see anything unusual. Hence they referred me to a hospital for further checkup.

Upon checkup at the hospital, I was then admitted to a ward (had to do a swab test to confirm I was covid-free before admission) for monitoring and more tests : more blood drawn (at least 2 small vials + 1 large one); another ECG session; x-ray; ultrasonic scan twice (once for the abdomen, then they saw a suspicious lump in my uterus; hence the second time, where it was confirmed that the lump was benign & it had been inspected during my pregnancy ~5-6 years ago so nothing new); more IV drips; some medicine; and just...basic monitoring.

The blood-drawing was kinda 'fun' in which the nurse sorta had to 'force' my blood out since I didn't eat the usual amount lol but she managed to do it & she was also the one who fixed the thingy where IV drip would connect to your vein. I've had an IV drip many years ago, and at that time I had a bruise by the end of my treatment; but this time, none! So the nurse did a super great job & I was so impressed by this XD not even a small spot of bruising! Just a tiny blood clot & that's only due to the 'needle' :3

Anyway -- by the end of my monitoring (5 days in the ward; my daughter kept asking me when I'd be home sobs) the doctor could just conclude that what I had was reflux and/or gastritis, so I got some gastric meds to continue taking at home.

When I resumed work, my big boss mentioned that he wanted to see me & asked about my hospital stay. So I went to his office & then he told me that he experienced a similar thing to what I had some years ago, multiple times, and his doctor said that what he had was anxiety. (I just nodded. Tbh I was searching/googling for the feelings I had and maybe it *is* anxiety, or at least some form of work-related stress, but I had to means to confirm it, so I kept it mostly to myself.) My boss then proceeded to advise me to : "Cut your coffee intake, and basically change your lifestyle" (not word-for-word, but that's the gist). Then he had a meeting & I just said thanks & left.

I mean...okay. Coffee, I've been cutting it to at least 1 cup per day instead of the usual 2 cups. And lifestyle? Idek what he means by that but I'd eat my meals half of the normal amount. That's something, right?

Then at work, I've been 'entrusted' (more like 'forced to take') a project (Project A) where I wasn't even involved in at the beginning. And now it's looking like it's growing to become a sorta big project, because suddenly it involved an important customer and they want to review some part of it in idk 3 weeks?  Yet I wasn't given a clear direction ("Think of it yourself! Place yourself in my shoes"). And at THE SAME TIME, I was asked to "analyze data for Project B" where Project B's data is supposedly confidential and I wasn't even supposed to have it, but I was given it anyway; and "get a baseline for Project C", where it should have been that project team's responsibility imo but since my department has more 'experience' about it, it's mine now I guess; both of which I was doing together with Project A.

Project A needed a lot of confirmations & organizing & alignments, hence when I was asked about Project A's progress, I said "Not much yet" & my supervisor responded "So no progress then." In my defense though I said I was also doing Projects B & C, to which I'm being told "Project B is now being handled by Colleague X and Project C is supposed to be easy, right?" I kept silent and later asked Colleague X about it. He said that only on that morning of the day when I was asked about the progress he was told about it. Which meant (or at least, I felt like) that the things I've done all this time for Project B was not worthwhile at all? Like all my effort, down the drain.

Then another day, on the last day of 2020, since I was already struggling with Project A, I was asked about an old project that he wanted us to hand over to another department, and he said that "Until when would we hold this? Do you know when this would be a problem?" & to which I answered "I don't know. Maybe tomorrow?" I admit I answered that sarcastically and pissed-off-edly and it was evident that he may be pissed-off too, because immediately he got up & walked away. Then Colleague X repeated the same question to me, but in a different way in which I can understand, and it just messed me up.

Then now, early Jan 2021, that sensation (rapid heartbeat, nausea, can't eat) is here again. Coincidentally I had a follow-up checkup with my hospital doctor and I told him I'm getting those again. He looked a bit concerned & I told him about the thing my boss said (about anxiety). My doctor just said "We'll try to see if there's a need to further do a scope-check with you before we rule in the anxiety cause" and proceeded to give me a 2-day medical leave. Which I'm thankful for but made me feel guilty for losing work :/

And during these 2 days, what I actually did was...looking for job opportunities. I think I just can't handle my current work anymore. But at the same time, I can't risk not having income hence I may need to stay in this job for a long while until who-knows-when.

And then there's also the question of : what am I actually good at? Why'd people want to take me? Would I be good in another job?

I'm just...tired. Idk what else to do.

If the doctor decides that I need the scope-check (literally inserting a scope to check my internal organs) then I may be warded again; it'll be safe, at least I'm in a hospital & legit don't have to worry about work; but at the same time I'll worry about my kid & anxious of the outcome. Also there are 'rumors' about another possible lockdown so maybe I can't go to the hospital anyway.

*sigh*

...what now?

[lunaschild2016]

Worth Fighting For Chapter 4 - This Is What You Came For

Rating: M (violence, smut, language, references to abuse and violence)

Romance/Tragedy

He was ruthless, cunning and completely committed to protecting his city but her arrival to Dauntless called everything he ever thought he believed into question. Duty and following orders were no longer enough. They both found more than they ever thought possible. They both found something worth fighting for. Eric/OC AU M Tragedy/Romance

@kenzieam@ericdauntless@jojuarez26@jaihardy@iammarylastar@captstefanbrandt@captainviolets@badassbaker@readsalot73@fuckthatfeeling@dani5102@beltz2016@beautifulramblingbrains@affabletimelady@irasancti@meganbee15@pathybo@lauraaan182​@gylisaa@scorpio2009@gylisaa @bookgirlthings

A/N: Posting this here but is also on ff.net site. Also….this is a slow burn for the romance/smut to get really good. Just an fyi!

____________________________________________________________

Chapter 4 - This Is  What You Came For

Kat

“Kat, are you still awake?” Tris’ voice called to me softly as her shadow fell over me when she came to stand beside my bed.

I rolled over to face her bed and frowned up at her. “Yeah Tris. What’s up?”

I couldn’t see her face but I knew Tris. I knew she was chewing her lip before she answered or asked her question. “I just….I can’t sleep and I wondered….can I….”

I don’t let her finish as I scoot back and pull back the covers. She slips in quietly and we lay facing each other. It feels weird to be like this again. We haven’t slept in the same bed for over a year now. I know the reason why on my part and I think I know the reason on hers too. We have grown apart slightly over the years. It has hurt but I think we both felt it necessary at the time.

“I am sorry for getting angry with you on the train, Kat. It was stupid of me to be angry you chose Dauntless. You were always pretty obvious about it, until the last four years.” Tris said quietly and took my hand.

I quirked a small smile into the dark. “You got pretty good at hiding it too you know. I am sorry I have been a pain in the ass to you this last year. I just….”

I paused and fought back a tear at the anger I had carried around for my big sister. It had been irrational and I knew it, I just couldn’t help it. “I hated the thought of you staying and being miserable there. I was so afraid that you were going to do just that, Tris. I was afraid that you thought you needed to because you are the oldest child.”

I felt her nod and she was quiet for a little while. “I almost did, Kat. What the elders were saying just kept playing in my head. That as the oldest children it was our duty to remain and to care for our parents as they had cared for us in the beginning.”

I gritted my teeth at that and counted to keep from shouting out in anger. Fucking manipulative bastards. That was something that was being passed around after Abnegation had it’s one transfer in years eight years ago. One Tobias Eaton. His gem of a father and faction leader had so cunningly let slip that it was a shame others might suffer the fate he might one day suffer after the loss of his son.

I let out a slow breath and shook my head. “We both know though that Mom and Dad never believed in that. Tris...I know that Dad’s reaction was less than….perfect. I know he is hurt but…” I stop speaking because I don’t know how to say that he will get over it. That he will come to accept this in time. I don’t know how to say it because even if it is true and even though I don’t see my transfer as a betrayal; I still hurt for causing him pain.

“I hope he can forgive us.” Tris whispers and I know there is silent tears crawling down her face. I know because I have them as well.

“It would be selfish if he doesn’t and he always tries to be selfless, Tris.” I say in my most convincing voice but I don’t know if I am trying to convince her or myself more. Most likely both.

We don’t speak more for the rest of the night. I don’t know how she does it, because lord knows I can’t manage it, but eventually she falls asleep.

I don’t know if it is because of the Candor that won’t shut his sobs up. The excitement of being in Dauntless. My worries about training and initiation. My worries about things that I can’t control but I was warned are dangerous to me. The thoughts of someone I had no business thinking about at all. I think it was a combination of all that; but sleep seems impossible for me. In the end I dozed when there seemed to be a lull in the cries of the big Candor transfer. The last time he started up again and tossed in his bed I gave up.

I got out of bed as quietly as possible, dressed in the clothes I had laid out for training that day, tucked Tris into bed and made my way out of the dorm. I know at least a few people stirred or watched my progress out of the room but I didn’t bother to see who they were.

I had no clue what time it was and cursed myself for not picking up a watch when I had been out shopping with my friends. I had it in my head to get one but it slipped my mind when we had gotten talking to Bud at the tattoo parlor. He was funny as hell and we had spent way too long in there just shooting the shit before I got my first tattoo.

My hand drifted up to just below and behind my ear where I had gotten it done. It was still sore but not unbearably so. Bud had laughed his ass off when I had told him what I wanted and then had to draw it for him since describing it wasn’t working. He had asked to keep it up in case anyone else had a hankering to have a ‘brainy’ tattoo. I had drawn that and the corresponding other one I would get on the other side later. I planed on doing that one when the first stage of initiation was over.

I was braiding my hair when I stepped into the training room after having made my way there. Something about the quiet of the compound had me tiptoeing along. As if I was afraid the sounds that I heard were the breaths of a giant and any sound I made would wake it.

It was odd stepping into the cavernous training room. It was so large that I felt dwarfed in it but at the same time energized. I knew I was going to pay for this. I had to be up way earlier than even I had planned to be. I always did think better and work out my tangled thoughts when I involved myself in work of some kind. Preferably the kind that I had to put my whole body and focus into.

I didn’t know where the light switch to light up the entire training room was and I didn’t want to risk turning it on. There were spot lights spaced around the room. One just happened to be over a bag so I made my way to that area and warmed up first.

I lost myself at first in doing my cardio exercises. When I felt comfortable with the room and looking around, I began to run around the room for a solid hour. I didn’t know the time but I knew I needed to hydrate so I made my way to the dining hall and hoped I could score a bottle of water. I honestly didn’t expect to run into people but I passed a few. Some guards that looked like they were patrolling the compound and others that looked like they were starting their work day.

When I made my way into the dining hall I was pleased to see that not only were there water bottles but also muffins. Shrugging I grabbed one of each.

“Kat?” A voice called from behind me. I turned and saw Chase, one of the Dauntless members I had met yesterday, looking at me with his head tilted and a worried expression on his face.

I smiled at him and he gave a smile back but still looked worried. “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to get some training in.”

He hesitated as his eyes moved over me, then he nodded and cleared his throat. “Yeah, I can kind of see that. Why don’t you come sit with me for a bit? I was just grabbing some coffee to get myself awake.”

I nod and laugh a little. I knew I would love some coffee but since I was going to be doing some more work, water was better for me at the moment. Besides I planned on getting some coffee at lunch most likely. I would need to, I am sure.

I sat down at the table and noticed that for the most part the dining hall was pretty empty. I drank from my bottle of water first while he was drinking from his large cup of coffee. He gave a sigh after he got a few sips in him and I let out a laugh at that.

“I can relate.” I say simply with a smile and peeled the wrapper on my muffin.

“I heard about your addiction. I am surprised you don’t have a cup of it yourself right now.” He said with a smirk at me.

I shrugged and smirked back at him. “Don’t want to pass out from dehydration so sacrifices must be made. I am sure that around lunch time I will be begging for a cup. Or an IV full of it.”

He let out a laugh at that and I smiled with him. Chase was handsome. Very handsome. His brown hair was short cut but slightly longer than what Abnegation men wore. It was a rich brown color that I could probably guess the tousled look wasn’t natural and he styled it. It worked on him. As did the small but well groomed beard he had. He had ice blue eyes that lit up when he was smiling at me and made me feel comfortable with him. He was just as tall as most of the other Dauntless men. I would say at 6’ ft or over it but his build wasn’t bulky. He was long, lean and deadly looking in frame.

Honestly I am stunned at how striking most of the guys I have met are. Some aren’t handsome in a conventional sense, like a pretty boy way. Some it is just their presence, the confidence they exude, that catches the attention. Last night in the Pit I saw how most of the Dauntless women were around the men. How free with affection or flirtation they were. I also couldn’t help but notice that while Chase, Eric and Zach drew lots of looks they seemed to either not notice or they didn’t care. At least not last night.

I had paid way more attention to them than I needed to by far. More so one person in particular but I wasn’t going to go that way in my thoughts right now. That was one of the things I had been in that training room to work out. I had never felt attraction in the way that I had heard Mar and even Lynn gush over, not until yesterday.

It couldn't have happened with a worse selection than Eric and not just because of him being a leader. I felt like some damn naughty school girl crushing on my teacher. Like some Erudite girls had for one of our teachers when we had still been going to classes. I could not stop staring and even Lynn had mentioned something to me about how often I looked flustered.

It couldn't be helped. There was something about his eyes that had first held me when he had barked out demanding to know what Lynn had been joking about. They were blue but there was this underlying tone of grey that reminds me of the blade of a knife. That has to be why they seemed to cut through and pierce me as I stared into them for way too long. He was built and oozed menace along with power. Everything about him, from his perfectly styled hair, the symmetrical block tattoos on his neck, even the maze ones on his arms; felt controlled and calculated. Everything about him was sending sparks to places that had never been touched before and that was bad news for me. No distractions and especially not with the leader of my faction as well as my instructor. Certainly not that leader and instructor.

It was easy sitting there talking with Chase. He was free with his smiles and laughs. He had a sarcastic sense of humor. It was like he could tell there was something troubling me so he was doing what he could to help keep my mind off of it. He was like a more mature version of Uriah and I instantly felt comfortable with him.

“So what really had you up so early to train?” Chase finally asked once he felt I was at ease enough to answer.

I shrug as I sipped on my water. “The main reason was I couldn’t sleep. There is a guy that was crying, pretty darn loudly, all night. It would have been pointless to just lay there and I couldn’t trust I wouldn’t try and physically knock him out if I had stayed. So I got up and decided to get my day started.”

He frowned at my explanation but he didn’t say anymore. I couldn’t read his thoughts about it other than worry maybe.”Well like you said it might not be good to put someone in the clinic before fights even start.” He teased finally.

I laughed and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, if it isn’t going to count for something then I think I am going to save my efforts.”

“Am I detecting a little bit of hotheadedness?” He asked with a wink.

I sucked my teeth in thought and tilted my head. “You might be. I am stubborn as hell and I can have flares of temper that would rival a volcanic eruption. It just depends on the situation I guess. Sometimes I prefer to wait. I have a temper but I also have patience.”

He winced and drank his coffee then looked back to me with laughter and truth in his eyes. “Remind me not to piss you off, Kat.”

I let out a laugh and shrugged. “I don’t think you will have anything to worry since I can already tell I like you, but crazier things have happened.”

Chase briefly gave me a smug smile before it turned friendly again. I didn’t stay much longer sitting with him. He had mentioned that his friends would be joining him shortly. By friends I knew one of those was sure to be Eric. The thought of seeing Eric again had my stomach doing things that were setting me off balance and I knew it was time for me to head back to training.

Chase would be training the Dauntless born with Lauren and I felt a pang of jealousy at that. That my friends got to have Chase and Lauren and I would be stuck with Four and Eric. One I would rather not have to be around if at all possible and the other I wanted to be around but knew I needed to stay far away from.

He promised to see me at lunch with a tone and look I didn’t recognize as I headed out after grabbing a new water bottle. When I got back in I started to work on the bags. I couldn’t do much with my hands because I didn’t have tape or gloves of any kind. Another thing I need to get when I get the watch. I scowl at myself and my absentmindedness from the previous day. I was letting my excitement of being in Dauntless and with my friends interfere with my focus. I needed to make sure to balance it all. Live my life and have fun but remember that there are cuts and Tris and I are looked at as the weakest links here. We will be gunned for as the easiest targets to get rid of so that we don’t take someone else’s spot.

‘Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will.’ This is a phrase that I run through my mind as I work. It is one of the many phrases that I have formed to be mantras. The goal is to clear my mind of doubt as I am fighting. To focus my attention and be able to shut out outside factors.

I am in the middle of this when I feel eyes on me. I sensed it was him and I can’t understand how that could be possible in such few encounters. I didn’t let on though. I doubled my efforts in using my mantras to limit the outside interference to my focus and kept on working. He very well might be trying to do that on purpose. Unsettle me or sneak up on me, to test and see if I was keeping my bearings or awareness. When he moved, he moved like a predator. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was the way he just moved regardless of if he was truly stalking me at the moment. I think it might just be how he moves. Either way I had to concentrate even harder on my form to not give in to the shiver of pleasure and the wave of confusion at that and him being so near.

[getanattitude]

The Next Big Thing in best beginner piano

“THE more you dig into a piece of Ives, the greater pleasure you get from it,” the pianist Jeremy Denk said lately, sitting at a piano inside of a rehearsal space in the Juilliard College. “It’s like resolving a puzzle.”

Then he enthusiastically deconstructed Ives’s “Concord” Sonata, untangling and conveying the themes and motifs embedded inside the complicated textures of the interesting rating.

Mr. Denk is about to release a disc, “Jeremy Denk Performs Ives” (Think Denk Media), showcasing two piano sonatas, an esoteric decision of repertory for a debut solo album. But then, there's nothing generic about this adventurous musician. His vivacious intellect is manifest equally in his actively playing and on his blog site, Think Denk, an outlet for astute musical observations and witty musings, irrespective of whether a lament about inedible meatballs or simply a spoof interview with Sarah Palin.

Mr. Denk will demonstrate his a lot more mainstream credentials when he performs Liszt’s Piano Concerto No. one with Charles Dutoit and the Philadelphia Orchestra commencing on Thursday for the Kimmel Center in Philadelphia and on Oct. twelve at Carnegie Hall.

Mr. Denk argues that the Ives sonatas, composed early during the 20th century, are mistakenly categorized as avant-garde is effective rather than “epic Romantic sonatas with Lisztian thematic transformations.” To your informal listener, the tunes that Mr. Denk describes from the CD booklet as “excellent, inventive, tender, edgy, wild, first, witty, haunting” can certainly audio avant-garde. Ives, who produced his residing in the insurance enterprise, incorporated jazz, riffs on Beethoven and American hymns, marches and people music into his daringly experimental piano sonatas, rich in polytonality, thematic layering and rhythmic complexity.

“It’s so splendidly in-your-facial area,” Mr. Denk explained, demonstrating a very maniacal passage inside the “Concord” Sonata. “It’s also fairly surprisingly hideous. There is one thing maddening about his humorousness. Ives is continually thumbing his nose at you in a way.”

But Mr. Denk implies that Ives’s tenderness, which he illuminates wonderfully With this recording, is underappreciated. “Ives is frequently about factors recalled,” he stated, “or Recollections or visions fetched from some tricky spot.”

He played the harmonically misty passages in the next motion with the “Concord,” in which Ives directs that a piece of Wooden be pressed around the upper keys to create a cluster chord. “It doesn’t feel gimmicky in the least to me,” Mr. Denk reported. “It’s all blues in The underside. Ives understood the best way to use Individuals small clichéd bits of Americana in a method that suddenly gets your intestine. You can’t consider how touching it truly is.”

Mr. Denk, 40, has actually been keen about Ives due to the fact his undergraduate times at Oberlin in Ohio, where he carried a double key in piano functionality and chemistry. “My full double diploma experience was to some degree of the ongoing freakout of 1 form of An additional,” he explained.

He were a “really nerdy high school university student” that has a limited social lifestyle, he claimed. “Ever given that I had been a kid I wished to head to Oberlin and preferred the liberal arts. Clearly I really get intensive enjoyment from drawing connections between items and poems and literature and concepts.”

Mr. Denk described himself to be a “practice maniac,” but his horizons have prolonged much further than the follow space given that Oberlin. Though nibbling an enormous piece of chocolate product pie at an Upper West Aspect diner close to the apartment he has rented considering that around 1999, Mr. Denk referred to his blog site, calling it “an astonishingly very good outlet to release tensions of 1 form or An additional.” He claimed it had drawn new listeners to his concerts. An avid reader of liberal political weblogs, Mr. Denk desires of creating a classical audio version of Wonkette, he said, but that could be tough to do devoid of offending people today. And he attempts to avoid offending folks, he additional, although he did lately post a rant about application notes.

Mr. Denk, who phone calls himself “an actual Francophile,” is soft-spoken but powerful, his dialogue peppered with references to numerous “obsessions”: coffee, Ives, Bach, Proust, Baudelaire and Emerson.

He went off on “a Balzac mania” a couple of years in the past, he claimed.

“That was a hazardous time, and anything in everyday life seemed drawn out of a Balzac novel,” he added. “I missing about a few a long time of my lifestyle to Proust. I’m positive it modified all the things, together with my taking part in.

“Someday my supervisor was like, ‘Dude, You must focus on your career and obtaining your things with each other.’ ” At that point, Mr. Denk claimed, “I was bringing Proust to meetings.” He extra: “I’m unsure I really experienced a job route. I had been just undertaking my Strange factor, which probably gave the impression of a disastrous nonroute to many of the people that ended up observing in excess of me. I don't forget some exasperated meetings with my management, but they were being quite affected individual and devoted, which I’m insanely grateful for.”

Mr. Denk grew up in Las Cruces, N.M., considered one of two brothers, a son of music-loving nonmusician moms and dads. His father, who's got a doctorate in chemistry, has become (at distinct moments) a Roman Catholic monk plus a director of computer science at New Mexico Point out University.

Mr. Denk remains addicted to the chili peppers of Las Cruces, he explained, seemingly only 50 % joking: “The purple as well as the inexperienced and the whole spirituality of chili peppers. It’s however a huge Portion of my lifetime. Once i go dwelling I visit this true dive and obsess more than their inexperienced meat burrito.”

When not on tour, Mr. Denk spends time along with his boyfriend, Patrick Posey, a saxophonist and also the director of orchestral things to do and arranging at Juilliard, the place Mr. Denk been given his doctorate, finding out with Herbert Stessin. Mr. Stessin recalls acquiring been amazed by “the maturity and depth” of Mr. Denk’s actively playing and remembers him as “an extraordinary student who absorbed items quite rapidly.”

Mr. Denk stated he “was in school permanently” right up until “in some unspecified time in the future I decided to have faith in my own instincts.” Now he teaches double-degree undergraduates on the Bard University Conservatory of Songs. The pianist Allegra Chapman, who examined with him, mentioned he was “worried about a great deal much more than the notes on the site, always citing literary and historic references.”

“Now I try and method songs in a extra holistic perspective,” she added. “He may be very passionate. He used to leap within the place and bounce about and wave his arms. It absolutely was genuinely enjoyment. He tried to get me to look at the new music having a sense of humor.”

This blend of enthusiasm, humor and intellect, so vibrant in both of those Mr. Denk’s participating in and his creating, is what distinguishes him, according to the violinist Joshua Bell. The two are actually common duo companions because 2004, whenever they done at the Spoleto Festival United states.

“You receive the intellectual musicians or those that dress in their heart on their sleeve with no lot of musical imagined,” Mr. Bell stated, “but Jeremy manages to accomplish both of those, and that’s great. We have now a good amount of arguments in rehearsal, that's the fun part too. The very fact we don’t generally see eye to eye keeps points clean and helps make me concern every little thing I do.”

Mr. Bell, whose alternatives of repertory are usually more common than All those of his additional adventurous colleague, claimed he wasn’t normally an Ives fan: “That has a good deal of modern audio I’m a little bit cautious. Despite having Ives, right until I listened to Jeremy. He just provides it alive. He has such an incredible creativity, and very little is completed randomly.”

Ives’s piano sonatas, Mr. Denk reported, “are in a method like animals that don’t wish to be tamed.”

“Every single overall performance needs to be so distinctive,” he extra, a single rationale he was originally hesitant to record them. Like Bach, he said, Ives leaves a good deal to the performer’s imagination.

A marvelous interpretation of your “Goldberg” Versions at Symphony House in 2008 unveiled Mr. Denk’s profound affinity with Bach. Mr. Denk will perform the get the job done and Textbooks one and 2 of Ligeti’s Études at Zankel Corridor on Feb. 16.

To help keep the “Goldberg” Versions contemporary, Mr. Denk is incorporating new fingerings, he claimed, “to reactivate the link amongst my brain and my fingers After i’m participating in it.”

“I think it’s an actual magical area If you have the muscle mass memory,” he extra, “even so the brain is in advance with the fingers.”

Modifying the fingerings is one way to keep away from plan, he claimed. “I get real pleasure outside of producing in a really great fingering. It can be like relearning the piece, and it makes you not just take any Observe for granted.”

The musical philosophy Mr. Denk relates to Bach, Ives as well as other repertory is maybe ideal summed up in that site put up on program notes: “I’ve in no way been a major enthusiast of the ‘Visualize how innovative this piece was when it had been created’ school of inspiration. For my money, it should be groundbreaking now. (And it is actually.) Whichever else the composer may have supposed, they didn’t want you to Assume, ‘Boy, that should are actually interesting back then.’ The most simple compositional intent, absolutely the ur-intent, is that you Engage in it now, you help it become take place now.”

[leftnipsdoodles]

almost got ‘em all! thanks everyone for asking! answers are below~

1. What age did you begin getting into art? Why did you get into it? hmmmmm im gonna try to answer this as interestingly as i can. so ive been drawing all my life and i think it was just bc a) there was always art supplies lying around and b) i just had so many things in my head and wanted a way to express them or just get them out. like when i played with my toys i was always completely quiet bc i was imagining everything in my head. sound/speech/words just weren’t as interesting to me as a way to put my thoughts out there as visuals were. also i rly liked ranma 1/2 and wanted to draw it.

4. Do you make merchandise? Favorite kind of merch to make? i don’t. i did think about making charms once, even if just for myself. you know, those cute, chibi-esque ones everybody makes? then i remembered i couldn’t draw sth cute if you put a gun to my head.

5. Who/what are your art inspirations? I listed some of my favorite artists the last time i answered questions like this so i guess this time i’ll go with the ‘what’ rather than the ‘who’. to me, the most inspiring thing are atmospheres. it could be a garbage container with 1000 stickers stuck and half-way teared down on it. the way the colors and rips in the stickers look and how it adds to the mood of the location. or sometimes it’s listening to a certain song at a certain time in a certain place that creates a unique mood and inspires you. but looking at art has never been an inspiration. so there’s that.

6. What is something (a technique, behaviorism, etc.) that you do with drawing that you think is unique to you?

ok but in seriousness, i don’t think there’s anything. any uniqueness comes from a lack of skill and knowledge so i don’t think it’s worth mentioning. like what do you even want me to say?? that i edit pictures i drew in clip studio in ms paint?? bc i do.

7. Describe your style. What would you change? neither here nor there. i feel like you can tell i’m a bit scatterbrained bc my drawings always look like they were done without any kind of direction lmao.. in general, i’d like to draw more realistically. i’d like to look at my own drawings and think ‘this pose looks rly natural, the way the clothes fit, the way the face looks, the perspective, the way this character interacts with the environment; it all looks right’. i’d also like to be able to use colors better but it’s hard when you struggle to name more than 3.

8. How do you get out of an art block? well, usually, I don’t. i’m pretty sure i’ve been in one for the past 3 years or so lmao (lamenting my anguish online) but i’ve been told that just working through it is the best way to go. just drawing. even if you hate everything. future you will thank you for it, bc you’ll probably be learning things while doing so, even if you can’t see it at that moment.

9. Does your style reflect who you are visually or your personality? both tbh. if you saw a pic of myself next to a drawing of proto danny you’d definitely see a resemblance in a way. (things like the clothes i draw him in are a given i think. ive probably drawn 90% of my wardrobe at this point) but my personality too. the things i spend more time on while drawing, the colors i choose, the mood in my drawings. that’s all a part of me. im pretty sure my oc tags are fairly accurate documentation of my mood swings and general attitude towards life throughout time lmao also, this thing i summed up in my tags a few years ago

10. What do you find easiest about drawing? getting the ideas for it

11. What do you find hardest about drawing? actually drawing said ideas. look, the moment i sketch the idea down it’s already 50% worse than i imagined it, then when i go to actually draw the thing it turns into sth so bad that i can’t even come up with a forced joke about the scenario. but anyway, lately the thing that scares me the most about drawing (and why i can hardly do it) is heads. heads heads heads. faces faces faces. i just cant do it man lmao

12. Is art part of your career or a hobby? What is your goal with art in life? my goal is to get a better hobby and to never have to return to drawing ever again. but that’s wishful thinking. i guess it’ll always stay my biggest hobby but i’d consider my life a failure if it ever turned into a career.

13. Advice to give to beginning artists? draw your ideas. never limit your creativity bc you don’t have the skill to express it to its full extent. a crappily drawn picture that conveys a cool idea or creates a cool atmosphere is just as good as an expertly crafted painting that has a lame subject. there’s a reason ppl admire the mona lisa but would rather read 90s manga than stare at that portrait all day. god. i guess motivational speaker is another career that’s out of the question lmao but you get what i mean!!

14. Advice to give to your artist peers?

also don’t take advice from me.

15. What have you drawn recently that you are proud of? ‘recent’ is relative, and so is ‘proud’, but i still rly like how this pic turned out. i just feel like it looks very decided, like i knew what i wanted to do and did it (i didn’t)

16. Show something you drew in the past that shows your improvement. 2017 - 2011

ahh tbh.. looking at this i don’t feel like i’ve improved a lot at all lmao..

17. Show something you drew in the past you’re still proud of. this pic might just be one of my favorites i’ve ever drawn. it’s still alright art-wise and it’s probably the most from-the-heart thing i’ve drawn so obviously, i have a soft spot for it lmao but i also just found this again and i still love it, even tho it’s ugly. also this bone which, infamously, is my crowning achievement

you know what i find funny rn? that it’s hard for me to decide which pic to choose for this question. i mean i went through my old art and cringed a LOT but there’s so many pics that im rly fond of, now that i’ve gained some distance to them. i wonder if it’ll be like that with the stuff i draw now, too.

19. Share a tutorial or reference that helped you. nothing concrete but i’ll mention ‘blind drawing’ again. it helped me get a different feel for the lines i’m drawing and, theoretically, would have made me better at drawing from life too

20. Plug time! Where else can followers find you? in the woods around 3am. don’t make eye contact.

[sunitachima]

Olympiads

The house is almost asleep as I pen this, the kitchen is done with the feeding, the living room the quarrels and pleas. Now only the bedroom and study breath; the former to cocoon the two creatures I have spawned, the latter watches me while I gather myself for the morrow.

Its been 2 months since school reopened and far from settling down, catching my breath and falling into routine, things have just progressively gotten worse. I walk around permanently with a hideous brown diary, frantically jotting something down as soon as it comes up lest I forget. In the wee hours of the morning, when sleep is heavy in my eyes and swear words hovering dangerously close to my lips, I may forget to pack the almost stale bread and instead ransack the ladder for nonexistent snacks. I then turn to my trusted brown companion (not the hubby, this time), and it calmly reminds me that there are leftovers in the back of the fridge and assures me that the kids will not go hungry. Only before 7am do I fondly refer to that aesthetically offending thing as my-pretty-little-forget-me-not.

A few nights ago, I was grudgingly skimming through the its pages, halfheartedly checking for anything that needed to have been completed by the day before. I look wearily at Kyra's to-do list (who are we kidding here) and it was filled with revisions to be done, pages in workbooks that need to be completed, spell checks to go over, review dates and texts to be memorized.. Those who know me, can attest that I am a horror flick junkie but nothing compares to the aforementioned pages; tis as good as having Emily Rose have one of her fits beside you.

The next page is peppered with meal and snack options and corresponding shopping lists. A far more welcomed, even if innately tedious effort. The final pages have remained the same for the past few months. My personal to do list, my unfinished projects, my task list and goals. All put on hold while I put the daily life in order. An uphill, never-ending, not-even-faintly-amusing chore. Manically repetitive, to be caught in one of those daily housework routines are a special type of hell on earth. The ebb and flow of the passing hours eventually marks every day decidedly over and the wretched alarm a few hours later will gleefully remind you nothing you achieved thus far can be brought to the morrow but that most assuredly life will hand you a dastardly clean slate every morning to labour and cuss over.

As I bemoaned my sorry state of affairs and pledged to climb out of this rut and 'simplify' matters (as a recent houseguest sympathetically suggested), my eyes fell upon some scribbles in the margin. I save that spot for tasks from school specifically directed to the parents.

'Submit Olympiads registration form by so-and-so date'.

It was the night before the deadline and as sleep had yet to knock on my doors, I gathered the circular and the Olympiads registration forms. This was the second batch of forms I had received within a span of 6 weeks. Being the type of mom I am, the first I completely failed to look at and missed the deadline for submission altogether. Dont shudder! 'Olympiads' sound so important, one may be forgiven in assuming its significance. Plus, I was very curious. Where I came from I had not heard of Olympiads being conducted for primary school kids.

The registration forms indicated that these competitions were from children in Grade 1 onwards, listed 6 different Olympiads of different subject matters and included an order form for workbooks to be bought and the amount of registration fees to be paid. An online article warned me parents began preparing for Olympiads 4-5 months prior, the organizer's website clearly states it is in the business of "popularizing competition."

The school circular was careful to mention that this was only an opportunity offered to students but ends it with a grave reminder to 'enroll your child for every competitive test being offered in order to equip him/her for the demands of the competitive world today.'

I consulted my dear friend Google and she drew my attention to a pretty recent article in the Times of India, so aptly titled: 'Olympiads: The new status symbol for parents.' Never mind the reiteration that ours is a competition-crazed society, it makes clear these Olympiads were passing-off as the real deal, when it clearly wasn’t for the actual Olympiads are not meant for little children.

At this, my head began to throb. Clearly these so-called Olympiads were created to cater to the demands of vile concepts such as 'early start' and 'future-ready', and to sit squarely in the eye of a competition-storm gathering momentum. Don’t get me wrong. I loved competition. In school, I use to devise, organize and then participate in inter-school competitions when I felt we needed a healthy dose of it. I had jumped at every opportunity to participate in competitive events at the school, district, state, national and even international level and this continued in university. I was naturally drawn to competitions because I was ready to take them on. Even if I wasn’t quite ready, the thrill of participation would keep me going.

But all this did not start for me till I was close to 11 years old.

As it stands, Kyra: i. spends a lot of time trying to get her head around the daily heap of schoolwork; ii. has swimming almost everyday (completely by choice); iii. has tuitions to attend as I am of no help in Hindi and Malayalam; iv. has some amount of screen time only during weekends; v. Has only about 30 mins of playtime in the evenings (for I am a stickler about an early bedtime) vi. plaintively asks me daily why she is just never left to her own devices (read: do absolutely nothing).

It also stands that her mom: i. may not be as far sighted as some parents when it comes to an early start of competitive events but certainly is in no rush to join the fray; ii. appreciates whatever little time there is to spend on herself and is not intending to reduce that in any way; iii. is already overly involved in Kyra's schoolwork which she highly resents and dreads the time Ezra will walk into Grade 1; iv. will be damned if she can get Kyra to sit and pore over workbooks in preparation for these bogus Olympiads.

It could all be very well she decides to participate next year or the year after (or never), but it will not be at my behest. Her decision to compete, if ever, will be respected only if she:

i. can prepare for these on her own with minimal external support; ii. will be able to handle commitments to school, home, family, social activities and still be a happy and sane child; iii. will take some amount of pleasure in preparing for these competitions without an unhealthy focus on winning; iv. displays emotional maturity to handle both wins and losses.

A tall order eh? Thus, it will be my pleasure to redshirt her from the Olympiads this year (and for as long as it takes).

p/s: also for those of you who are like-minded, bring along those forms and we will have a little bonfire replete with wine and hor d'oeuvres.

[iyliss]

That’s kind of a fun thing with s2 tbh, there are so many things that really don’t make much sense without knowing the whole story and as such reactions aren’t the same XD I don’t have much of my own reaction to watching it left, but I do know that one of the first things ive said about Saiou was “im very confused he looks kinda nice but also very strange and evil” and here we are now XD This scene is quite interesting because at first watch it’s hard to make sense of what Saiou says, so we’re mostly there, disappointed with Edo that he won’t say anything (though Edo feels that much stronger). But after being more familiar with Saiou what he means kind of appear, and it becomes so much more heartbreaking Tbh they’re really, really useful. I always use your spot when I want to remember a dialogue or a scene, when I want a very specific reference (everytime ive drawn edo as a kid? I had to look up on your blog) or just when I feel a lil down and need to see some babies. Its very useful to have all kinds of screenshot easily findable. Oh no I kind of skipped some aspects, what i mean is Saiou tries to keep Edo away from him and the light and the society and all that danger, and by that “want” to make him stop care so much about him. Id need to deconstruct that dialogue a little more pricesily but, overall Saiou saying “we are just piece in destiny and you must follow it’s course” is him trying to tell him not to do anything and stay away from him. He starts crying when Edo says they are friends, at first I thought it was just random for the end of the scene but it might because knowing that Edo truely loves him makes him even sadder because he doesnt have much way to convince him to forget about him without breaking his heart? I don’t know if I can explain exactly, but it’s mostly about Saiou trying to keep Edo safe by pushing him away from him.

When I want to get the thought train going but don't have the strenght to actually watch anything i go back to look at the screenshots you post because it's all so nicely organized; and yesterday I went back to read Saiou's and Edo's scene from beginning of domino city arc and I must say. Your reaction are so funnily mild. Like Saiou is right there crying because he doesnt want Edo to care about him but he does care so much and you're just "oh i thought they were friends :/"

Lol! I would definitely react to that scene much differently now for sure. XD I remember not entirely understanding what was going on in the scene at the time too so I was like “Oh well okay then.” Although looking back on my old posts on them kind of makes me want to shout “Why aren’t you shipping them yet??” at my past self. ^^;;

I’m glad to hear that you find my post organizing useful too! I mainly do it for myself but I always hoped that maybe it would help others to find stuff as well. :)

Do you think he doesn't want Ed to care though because then it would mean that something really is wrong with him, or because it would be easier to do what he needs to if Ed didn't care so much? Either way, even just thinking about Ed no longer loving him would definitely be painful to Saiou. 😭

[akissatmidnight]

Good morning, fellow Outlander fans! Today, I’m getting into one of my favorite things…History! Specifically, I’ll be talking all about the Scottish clans and giving you a little Outlander love along the way! Because there are numerous Highland and Lowland clans, I’ll be picking some of my favorites with the most amount of history fun.

The Gregor/MacGregor Clan

Clan Motto: Roighal Mo Dhream-Royal is my Race

Minor Motto: Een dhn bait spair nocht-Slay and spare not (this one is so metal)

War Cry: Ard choille!-The woody height!

The Traditional Tartan

The “Primitive” Tartan

The Highland Dance Tartan

Here are several facts associated with this the MacGregors:

They were among the first clans to adopt the bagpipe in the 1600s!

In 1603 James IV outlawed the MacGregor name, forcing them to renounce their heritage or die. Many took on other Scottish names, but others were hanged.

During the Jacobite Risings, the Gregor clan (which was not an outlawed name), fought with the Jacobites and was defeated at the Battle of Littleferry, making them unable to participate in the Battle of Culloden.

The MacGregors were reestablished in the 1800s, finally bringing back the chiefs.

The only MacGregor mentioned in Outlander is Alexander MacGregor, the 18 year old cattle thief who was a victim of Black Jack Randall, and the initial owner of Jamie’s bible.

I’ve written a romance novel, The Amethyst Bride, featuring a MacGregor man. You can read about it here!

Clan Fraser of Lovat

Clan Motto: Je Suis Prest- I am Ready

War Cry #1: A Mhor-fhaiche!- The Great Field!

War Cry #2:Caisteal Dhuni- Castle Dounie (referring to their ancestral seat)

Fraser of Lovat Tartan

Dress Tartan

Jamie Fraser Tartan (NOT an actual Fraser Tartan)

Here are several facts associated with this clan:

There is also the “Lowland Fraser Clan”, which is entirely separate from the Frasers of Lovat.

The Frasers fought with William Wallace and Robert the Bruce, who you might know from the (historically inaccurate) movie Braveheart, in 1303.

The clan supported Mary Queen of Scots in the Siege of Inverness in 1562.

A real man named James Fraser hid in a cave for years after surviving the Battle of Culloden. Read more about him here!

The Frasers have participated, in force, in all of the wars based on American soil, such as the Seven Years War and the Revolutionary War.

Here are some bonus pics of our fav Fraser…

Clan MacNaughten

Clan Motto: I Hoip in God-I Hope in God

War Cry: Fraoch Eilean!- The Heathery Isle!

The clan’s tartan…festive.

Here are several facts about this clan…

This clan are descendents of the Picts, some of the earliest, tribal, dwellers of Scotland. Possibly with Celtic roots.

They opposed Robert the Bruce (ya know…the Braveheart guy) and when he took the throne, they lost much of their lands to the Campbells.

There are many forms of this clan, such as McNitt, Macnaughton, McNett…and McKnight! Yeah, it’s my family’s father clan!

The MacLeod Clan

Clan Motto: Hold Fast

Old Clan Motto: Murus aheneus esto- Be the wall of brass

Their traditional tartan

The hunting tartan

Here are some interesting facts about the MacLeods:

My first historical romance novel, Queen of Emeralds, follows a MacLeod Chief and a British Heiress. You can read about it here!

They are the holders of the Fairy Flag. Shrouded in mystery, this flag is said to have come from the far east, possibly made by vikings, or have been used during the crusades. But in one popular MacLeod tale, the Fairy Flag was wrapped around a MacLeod Chief’s baby by a group of fairies. It has been artfully preserved and says to have the power to heal the sick, give military prowess to in battle, and protect the clan in times of famine or danger. But you’re not supposed to touch it, nor photograph it…but here’s a photo lol.

In the early 1600’s, the Clan MacLeod of Lewis became extinct and the seat, Castle Leod, it fell into the hands of the Mackenzie clan. It then became the seat of the Mackenzies. It was also the inspiration for Castle Leoch in the Outlander book series. It would have been used for filming, as it is still in good condition, but another castle was selected instead.

Castle Leod

The Mackenzie Clan

Clan Motto: Luceo Non Uro-I Shine Not Burn

Clan War Cry:Tulach Àrd-The High Hill

Dress tartan

Regimental tartan

Outlander show Mackenzie tartan (NOT actual Mackenzie tartan)

Let’s look at some fun Clan Mackenzie facts…

Mackenzie is actually an Anglicized version of “Mac Coinnich”, which means handsome.

They were once the 4th most powerful clan in Scotland.

In the 17th century, the Crahan Seer  foretold that the direct Seaforth Mackenzie line would die out after a deaf mute was born. A few years later there was a Seaforth Mackenzie named Francis. Wouldn’t you know, a bout of Scarlet Fever made him deaf and mute and he outlived all his sons, ending the line for good.

Here are some bonus pics of your fav Mackenzies…

Outlander Season 2 2016

  The Wallace Clan

Clan Motto: Pro Libertate- For Liberty

Clan War Cry: Freedom!

The Wallace tartan

Here are a few little facts about the Wallace Clan…but mostly William Wallace.

The Wallace clan came to Scotland in the 11th century from Normandy, France.

The true William Wallace is nothing like what you saw in Braveheart!

Little Willie wasn’t a poor orphaned kid. He was raised a nobleman and even became a knight. Far cry from the ragamuffin living in a shack.

Wallace never met Isabelle of France. Girl was like…5 when he was participating in Scottish military endeavors.

Wallace wouldn’t have worn a kilt. Kilts didn’t become a thing in Scotland until the 1600’s. So no butt flashing in real life.

Scots in the 12 and 13,000s never painted their faces blue. The Picts did to scare off Roman invaders hundreds of years before Wallace was even a gleam in his noble father’s eye.

But he was hanged, drawn, and quartered…so that’s true. Yay?

Robert the Bruce was the real Braveheart. Literally. After he died, his heart was removed and given it’s own fancy casket.

Clan Murray

Clan Motto:Furth, Fortune, and Fill the Fetters.

Old Motto: Tour Pret- Quite Ready

Murray of Atholl Tartan

Murray of Tullibardine Tartan

Here are a few facts about this clan:

They descended from Flemish and Norman lords and prided themselves on being from noble stock.

After Culloden, there was a massive diaspora from the Highlands, due to persecution of the clans. A great number of Murrys settled in Nova Scotia.

Their old crest featured a mermaid

This clan maintains the old private regiment in Europe; the Atholl Highlanders. This is because Queen Victoria was so moved by the Murrays of Atholl’s greeting to her upon visiting the country, she repealed the man that outlawed Scottish military regiments, just for them.

Bonus gif of our fav Murray…

Clan Campbell

Clan Motto: Ne Obliviscaris- Forget Not

Clan War Cry: Cruachan!- Referrs to a popular rallying spot in times of crisis

Here are some facts about this clan:

At one point, they were the largest and most powerful clan in Scotland.

Their name might have come from the phrase “cam bul”, which means “crooked mouth”, referring to a founder of the clan.

They could be d*cks…especially to the MacDonald clan. But, that’s how you stay on top. We’ll talk about their issues in a bit.

Their castle seat, Inveraray Castle, was used in some filming for the show Downton Abbey.

Clan MacLean

Clan Motto: Virtue, Mine, Honor

Clan War Cry: Bàa no Beatha- Death or Life

Here are some fun facts about the MacLean clan…

They are one of the oldest clans in Scotland and are known for their fierceness in battle.

in the 1500s a chief named Lachlan MacLean married a Campbell girl. He hated her so much, and instead of just ignoring her and getting a mistress like the other guys in the 1500s, tied her to a rock by the sea in hopes the tide would drown her. But much like a Batman villain, he was too cocky and didn’t see her death through. She was saved by a fisherman and one of her brothers killed Lachlan…but he deserved it.

Clan Donald/MacDonald

Clan Motto: Per Mare Per Terras-By Sea and By Land Minor Clan Motto: Fraoch Eilean-The Heathery Isle

Here are some interesting things to know about the Donalds…

One of the oldest on record, the clan is descended form both the Norse and the Celts.

The MacDonalds were sneaky in the Battle of Culloden!

Many of them bailed when they saw how the Scots were being slaughtered

They also had two minor regiments fighting for the British, so some of the smaller groups were able to maintain their positions and lands.

Remember how I told you that the Campbells and MacDonalds had some major bad blood?

In 1642, a group of Campbell soldiers in Ireland were ordered to kill all the MacDonald Catholics and threw dozens, possibly even hundreds, to their deaths over a cliff. This sparked a long series of battles between the two clans

And the Campbells kept being jerks…any Game of Thrones fans? Remember “The Red Wedding”? Well that scene was inspired by the Massacre of Glencoe, where a bunch of Campbells came to chill with the MacDonalds of Glencoe…as you can probably guess, it ended up with the Campbell forces massacring numerous people, burning homes, and allowing scores of woman and children to die of exposure.

Shown: Frank Randall partying it up at the Red Wedding before it all went to shite.

 Are you part of a clan? Which one? 

That’s it for this week! I know I didn’t come close to covering a fraction of the clans, but I think we all had fun. Was your clan not mentioned? Let us know, maybe we’ll bring up the clans in a future post. And make sure to check out out Outlander page here to help you through Droughtlander.

And see who’s hot for teacher in Sarah’s contemporary romance series here and learn about Kelsey’s contemporary and Scottish romance series here!

An Outlandish Clan History Good morning, fellow Outlander fans! Today, I'm getting into one of my favorite things...History! Specifically, I'll be talking all about the Scottish clans and giving you a little…