#got the idea for this Wednesday night wrote most of it Thursday and Friday and finished it up earlier today
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
kingofmyborrowedheart · 4 days ago
Text
Wrote a little, okay a lot, about the Grammy’s!
0 notes
novel-nook-blog · 7 months ago
Text
Camp NaNo – week 1
Monday (7/1):
It's 9:30 pm and I finally opened my laptop. Uff, what a long day. Ngl, I'm exhausted. I woke up at 5:30 am to get ready for work. I left at almost 4 pm. Then there was a problem with my car (stressing af) and I had about 20 minutes to get to a meeting in another town so... very nice. The meeting was 'till 6 pm and around 6:30 pm I was finally home. Now let's get to writing.
It's 10 pm and I'm falling asleep as I write so it's time to put my laptop down and get some rest before my work, tomorrow. I haven't written much, but I didn't want to start with a 0 tomorrow.
Wordcount: 326
Tuesday (7/2):
It's 17:40 and I'm opening my second draft. I'm so hyped even though I just got home 😂... maybe I'm even overhyped because an hour ago I had a veeeery strong coffee and I mean wow, it just kicked in and I'm overflown with energy. So my writing is either going to be very good or very bad, we'll see.
On my schedule is: finish chapter 1 (I started it yesterday); start reading The Throne of Glass. I read that book a lot of times already, but it has similar writing style as I'm using in this book and I found out I'm repeating the same words again and again, so I want to use this reread for the benefit of my vocabulary (plus I want to reread the whole series this summer, although I wanted to finish reading Iron Flame first... so complicated, right?)
My plans for the day have escalated quite differently. We had a game night so after about 200 words I stopped writing for several hours and just before I head to bed I wrote up to 752 words. It's still not much, but I can't focus anymore. We'll se how tomorrow's going to be. I was planning to write all day, but I found out we're going to the ZOO. I'm very excited for our little trip, but at the same time I have no idea how the heck I'm going to get the wordcount I need. This challenge is going to be fun.
Wordcount: 752
Wednesday (7/3):
It's 10 pm and I just opened my laptop. This day could be divided into two parts – the awesomest one and the worst stressful nightmare. Me, my mom and my sister went to the trip to the zoo. It was a wonderful day. But after that there was a family matter that we had to solve so I didn't have time for writing...
Wordcount: 0
Today it's Tuesday, 9th of July... I'm so sorry for my delayed post but the thing is I am sick. I have the stomach flu since Saturday, but have been feeling so off most of the week so the last time I've written anything was on Friday and it wasn't much. Hopefully I'm going to be back on track soon but now I'm feeling so bad that the only thing I do is sleep and watch TV.
Also on Thursday I had an 11 hour long shift at work so very tiring day. On Friday my friend had a birthday party so I was with her all day and when I got back I started feeling sick but I didn't think it was something to worry about. On Saturday me and my dad went to visit my aunt and when we got back the stomach flu started in all it's power and hadn't left since.
I'm not sure how I'll get 45k words in my draft by the end of July but now health is my priority. So I'm going to get back when I'm feeling better.
5 notes · View notes
sunmoonandeddie · 5 years ago
Text
saturdays
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
word count: 3,467
summary: Bucky Barnes has a new routine.
warnings: Some swearing
a/n:  This was my March 2020 one shot for my Patreon that they received early access to.  Let me know what y’all think!
Bucky Barnes has a new routine.
Sundays are for sleeping in before eventually making his way to Brooklyn, where he picks up three bouquets and an egg, bacon, and cheese breakfast sandwich from Sal’s bodega before going to the cemetery.  He sits against his sister’s tombstone—his parents’ to his right—and eats his late breakfast.  He sits and talks for a few hours before leaving the flowers on their graves.  He always has to have peonies, since those were Becca’s favorites.
Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays are for training.  He wakes up at five in the morning to go running with Sam, something he thought would end when Steve went back to be with Peggy Carter.  But he wasn’t bitter.  No.
But which thing he wasn’t bitter about, he’d never tell.
Along with the run, he spends most of the day sparring and battling simulations in the gym.  He has short breaks for meals, but he pretty much is on go until after dinner, when he goes straight to bed.
But Fridays are his favorite.  Because he gets to sleep in until nine-thirty in the morning, which is a luxury he’s not used to.  Then Sam and him grab a late breakfast together before Bucky goes into the city for his therapy session.
And Bucky likes his therapist!  Which he was really, really surprised about!  But Marlene is good.  Marlene is good because she doesn’t placate him.  She calls him out on his shit, and pushes him forward.  Because if it had been up to him, he would’ve stopped seeing her after their third meeting, when she had him drawing with fucking crayons that snapped in his hand way too easily.  But it’s been over a year since he started seeing her, and even though he still has his bad days, his bad days now would’ve been his best days before.
“So, you think you’re finally ready to go through Rebecca’s things?” Marlene asks, looking at him with a peaceful expression.
“I don’t think so, I am,” he says firmly, feeling a rush of triumph as a smile spreads across her lips.  “It’s time, you know?”
She nods in understanding, humming.  “Do you have someone going with you?”
Usually, Sam would go with him for things like this, and just in general.  They were attached at the hip, especially after the whole Steve leaving thing.
Yeah, they were both hit pretty hard with that.
“Yes, but I…”  He sighs, rubbing his hands on his jeans.  “I think this is something I need to do alone.  At least, the going through her stuff part…  But he is going with me to move the stuff to the Tower.”
“Good, good,” she says, her brows slightly furrowed.  “And how are you feeling today about Steve leaving?”
Bucky lets out a huff of air, taking a moment to think about it.  “To be completely honest with you…  I’m kind of over it today.  I have other things to do and yeah, I would’ve liked him to be here for it, but that’s not how it is.  And him leaving is more about him than it is about me.”  He shrugs, his lips pressed into a thin line.  “Just because he decided to go back doesn’t mean he wanted to leave me.”
Marlene sets her clipboard to the side, a warm smile on her face.  “Well, Bucky, I think we’ll end today on that thought.”  She stands up, offering her hand for him to shake as she does everyday.  “You’ve done well today.  You should be proud of yourself.”
He leaves with a wave and a “See you next week!” as he always does.
He hadn’t known about the storage unit full of his sister’s stuff until about eight months ago, when he asked Maria Hill if there was anything left of hers.  He knew that SHIELD had been the ones to take control of her assets when she had no children, since she was the sister of a Howling Commando and the best friend of Captain America.
Becca had died in December of 2013.  He’d missed her by less than six months.
It was heartbreaking when he first found out, and still is, if he was being honest.  But at least he has her stuff to go through, even though he has no idea what all is going to be in the storage unit.  Stevie hadn’t had anything other than what the Smithsonian had snatched up.
The car ride to the storage facility is quiet, Sam at the wheel.  Bucky still hasn’t gotten his license, since he doesn’t see a point.  Why should he when there’s the subway and Uber and even just good old fashioned walking?  “You’ve gotta save the Earth, Sam,” he says when he really feels like irritating the other man.
“You sure you’re ready for this, man?” Sam asks as they stand in front of storage unit 429.
“Yeah,” Buck says, punching in the key code and lifting up the door.  “Yeah, I’m ready.”  He flips the light switch on the wall, and is shocked by just how much stuff there is.  There’s boxes upon boxes upon boxes.
Sam’s hands go to his hips as he looks at it, whistling.  “Alright.  Let’s get it loaded.”
It takes several hours and three trips to get everything from the storage unit to the Tower, and by the end of it, the both of them just collapse on the couch with a couple of beers and a pizza to share between them.
But Saturday morning comes bright and early, and even though it’s his only day out of the week where he has absolutely nothing to do, Bucky knows he has to start going through her things.
The first four boxes are just clothes.  Clothes upon clothes upon clothes.  He finds a baby blue dress that she used to wear for church, starched to perfection, and he holds it to his chest for a long time.  He cries then.
And he knows that the fact that she’s hoarded so many clothes has a lot to do from growing up during the Depression.  He still finds himself falling into old habits of checking the price of food, despite the fact that he never has to worry about money again with his Avengers salary and the backpay from being a POW.
He finds his parents’ wedding rings, and the string of pearls his ma wore for special occasions.
And then he finds an old shoe box, and when he opens it up, he finds letters.  Letters upon letters upon letters.  They’re in bundles, tied together with fraying ribbon.  The paper is yellowed and soft from being folded and unfolded so many times, and he can see the looping black letters that covered the pages.
He takes the ones that look the oldest and unties them, he takes the top one from the stack and sets the rest to the side, before carefully unfolding it.
“Ruthie,” he says quietly as he reads the name at the bottom, not even bothering to read it yet.  “Ruthie…”  His eyes pop open as he suddenly remembers, remembers receiving letters everyday from a girl in the Bronx.  They were never romantic, but it was nice being able to write to someone and not having to hide how bad it was, like he had to with his ma and Becca.  She even sent her picture once, so he could know who he was writing to.  “Ruthie!”
He spends the rest of the day reading the letters, and passes out sometime around four in the morning with his face on a letter.  He takes the letters with him to his family’s graves the next day, reading to them after he replaces the flowers.
It takes him two more days to finish reading all the letters, in between breaks while training and staying up until he absolutely can’t.
He cries a lot while he reads it.  He’s not afraid to admit that.  But it’s nice to remember that he had a friend to listen to him during one of the worst times of his life.
Bucky’s almost afraid to look her up, to find out if she was still alive, and if he could go see her, to thank her.  They wrote back and forth until the day he fell off the train, and he knows that had to be pretty jarring for her.
But then Sam finds out about the letters—it would be hard for him not to, considering that he was walking around with his nose in the letters for days—and it’s all over.
Turns out, she’s alive.  She’s alive, and she’s still in Queens.
He goes the next Saturday, taking his bike all the way to the other borough.  He looks a little intimidating and extremely different from how he looked back then, but he hopes she recognizes him.  He really, really hopes she recognizes him, because otherwise this’ll be real awkward.
He stands in front of the door for a long time, taking his hands in and out of his pockets about eight times before he finally reaches up and knocks.
And then the door opens, and there’s Ruthie.
Well, not Ruthie, though at first glance, you’re the perfect picture of her.  You’ve got her hair and her eyes, and the curve of her lips.  But the nose is different.
“Can I help you?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at him.  You’re wiping your hand on a hand towel, peering at him like you recognize him from somewhere but you don’t know where.
“Hi, uh,” he says slowly.  His throat is suddenly so dry that he can barely talk.  “I’m Bucky.  Bucky Barnes.  I was pen pals with—”
He’s cut off by Ruthie herself appearing in the doorway.  She’s much older—she is ninety-nine, after all—but it’s definitely her.  “Did you say Bucky Barnes?”  The little old lady’s eyes widened as she saw him, her hand over her heart.  “Oh, my stars, it’s really you.  I heard about what happened to you, and I…”  She shakes her head, clicking her tongue.  “Why, it almost gave me a heart attack, you know.”
“Little Ruthie Pratt from Queens,” he says, reaching in his pocket and holding up the letters.  “I found these while, uh, going through my sister’s stuff.”
“I still have mine!” Ruthie says, pulling him inside.
It’s nice and homey and everything that Bucky had thought it would be.  The front foyer is covered in photos, and there’s quite a few of you.  You’re clearly one of Ruthie’s pride and joys, if the sheer amount of them has anything to do about it.
“I used to read these to my grandbaby here,” Ruthie says as she comes back with an old oak jewelry box in hand.  “Anytime she stayed the night—her parents worked a lot when she was growing up—she always asked me to read her one of my ‘Bucky letters.’”
“Grandmama,” you say, cheeks flushing as you avoid his eyes.
“It was so cute!  She used to recite them word for word along with me!” Ruthie teases as they go to the living room.
It’s quaint, with soft pastel colors dominating the room.  He sits on a floral sofa that’s got a circle with dark hair on it, the marking of a furry friend’s favorite spot.  He watches as you move to the kitchen, grabbing a pitcher of what looks like tea and a few glasses.
You sit beside her with the ease of knowing that you belong here, pouring yourself a glass.  “Grandmama, do you want some tea?”
She scoffs, rolling her eyes as she opens the box and looks for the oldest one.  “You keep that monstrosity away from me,” she says.  Seemingly remembering Bucky’s presence, she says, “My daughter’s husband is from Louisiana.  Ridiculous man got both her and my grandbaby addicted to that absolute sludge.”
The secret smile you give him as the two of you listen to her tirade about sweet tea makes him feel at ease, and sets the tone for the rest of the afternoon.
Things go on as normal, or as normal as they can.
And Marlene happens to think that all of this is absolutely fantastic for him.  She loves that he’s now spending time with Ruthie and you, reconnecting with his past while understanding that he doesn’t have to be the person he was in the letters.
He’s different.  He’s not the Bucky that Ruthie knew back then.
It’s an unusually warm day in November four months later when he takes you out for a coffee, just the two of you.  And it isn’t a date—really, it isn’t—but he finds himself wanting it to be about halfway through his second coffee.
And that’s why he starts talking about dating to Marlene, who had, quite frankly, been waiting for him to realize his feelings for a while.
“I think I’m in love with her,” he says as he storms into his therapy session, eyes wild and hair a disarray.  He’s clearly been worrying real hard about it.
Marlene looks up at him, peering over the silver rim of her glasses.  “Oh, really?” She says nonchalantly, as though she doesn’t have you in her notes about him.  “And why is that?”
Bucky can’t help the frown on his face as he realizes that she didn’t even ask who he was talking about, because she knew.  “I…  I don’t know,” he says, slumping into his usual chair.  “She makes me happy.  Happier than I’ve ever been.  And she always makes me laugh, even at the most inappropriate of times.”  His gaze softens the more he thinks about you.  “And she isn’t scared of me.  She doesn’t judge me.  She’s read about everything I did in the war, even before HYDRA, and she doesn’t care.”  His hands are sweating as he rubs them together.  “Actually, it’s not that she doesn’t care—she does care—but she cares because she… she loves me.”
You love him.  And sure, he knows that.  You’ve said that you love him multiple times, even if you only mean it as a friend way.
But the thought that he has someone who loves him that doesn’t have to is… groundbreaking.
“She loves me, and she wants me to be okay,” he says, looking up at Marlene then.
His therapist has a pleased look in her eyes, even if she won’t let it show with a smile.  “I think she’s good for you,” she says simply, her pen held loosely in her hand.  “Are you seeing her again soon?”
“I’m seeing her tomorrow night,” he says, his heart growing light.  “We’re grabbing a few drinks to celebrate her finally graduating from cosmetology school.”
It’s a big deal for you, completely something.  You’re smart, there’s no denying that, but when it comes to schooling…  You’d done well in high school, but college proved to be the bane of your existence.
You’d dropped out in the middle of your junior year, and that had been it.  You’d moved to Queens to live with Ruthie after, working various low level jobs and trying to find something that fit.
But you’d fit in at cosmetology school.  Hell, you excelled.  And you enjoyed it!  You enjoyed waking up in the morning and going to your classes!
You cried when you got your certificate, and it was now framed in Ruthie’s house until you start your first salon job in two weeks.
“Are you going to tell her about your feelings?” Marlene asks curiously.
Now that makes him pause.
“... Should I?” Bucky asks, feeling a wave of anxiety coming over him.  “What if she doesn’t feel the same way?  And she sees me as just a friend?”
“If she’s really your friend, she won’t abandon you just because you tell her you have romantic feelings for her.”
“You sure about that?”
Marlene fixes him with a look, raising one perfectly sculpted eyebrow.
He runs his tongue over his teeth.  “Fine.  You’re sure,” he says, slumping a little in his chair.  “Doesn’t mean it’s easy.”
She snorts, making a note on her pad.  “I never said it was going to be easy, Bucky.  Doesn’t mean it can’t be done.”
The next night, he spends an hour and a half trying to decide what to wear.  “It shouldn’t be this hard,” he grumbles as he switches shirts for the forty-ninth time.  “It’s just drinks.”
Sam, however, is having a great time watching his new best friend freak out over seeing a girl for the first time.  “I mean, she already agreed to going out with your ugly mug, man.  It’s not gonna matter what you wear.”
And in some way, that helps.  A little.
But he does have to threaten Sam with bodily harm if he spies on his date that’s not really a date.
He almost boxes him the ear when he insists for the fourth time that it’s a date.
He shows up at your door with a bouquet of flowers from Sal’s bodega, the buttons of his dark blue henley left open, exposing a smattering of chest hair.
When you open the door, the air is knocked from his lungs.  You look absolutely radiant.  The light from the sinking sun is giving you a halo-like glow, and he’s sure, not for the first time, that you’re an actual angel.
“Hi,” you say, a flush on your cheeks as you see the flowers.  “Are those…  Are those for me?”
He nods dumbly, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat.  “Y-Yes,” he says, pushing them into your arms.  “As a congrats.  For, you know, graduating.  And stuff.”
“Thank you,” you say as you take them, handing them to Ruthie.
She’s standing just inside the door, a giddy look on her face as she holds the flowers, watching you take the motorcycle helmet from his hands.  “Have her back by twelve!”
“Grandmama!”
“Fine!  Twelve-thirty!”
You’re clearly embarrassed by her antics as he helps you on behind him, guiding your arms around his waist.
“You ready?” He asks, his voice breathy.
A shiver runs down your spine as you nod, wrapping your arms tighter around him as he starts the bike, taking off.
“She doesn’t actually mean that,” you say as he leads you into the tiny, out of the way bar.  You’re fixing your hair, trying your best to appear presentable.  “I’m grown, you know.  I don’t…  I don’t have a curfew.”
A slow smile spreads over his lips as he listens to you ramble.  “I know,” he says finally, figuring he should put you out of your misery.  “Ruthie does like to tease those she loves.”
The bar is quaint, clearly a local place that tourists haven’t invaded.  He leads you to a high table, calling out your order to the lone bartender.
“So, I—”
“I like you,” Bucky says, unintentionally cutting you off with a wince.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but I really, really like you, and I really, really want this to be a date, but if you don’t feel the same way then I completely understand and we can just forget that I ever said anything and everything can just go back to normal and that might be the best thing because, quite frankly, I haven’t dated since the forties and I have no idea how dating is supposed to work nowadays, but I’d really like to try it with you but only if you—”
His rambling is cut off as you place your hand on his, intertwining your fingers.  “Okay,” you say, like it’s the easiest thing ever.  “It’s a date.”
He stares at you for an embarrassingly long time, his mouth dry.  “Uh…  What?” He says quietly.  His heart is pounding at an unnaturally fast pace, and he honestly thinks he might be on the verge of a heart attack.
“I like you, too,” you say, smiling at the bartender as he brings you over your drinks.  You look so beautiful, your eyes the brightest thing in the dim lighting of the bar.  “So this is a date.”
“Okay,” he breathes out, a wave of relief washing over him.  “It’s a date.”
He’s a little starstruck as you continue on with what you were going to say before, a pink blush dusting his cheeks.  Your hand stays in his for the rest of the night, occasionally giving a little squeeze as though you’re reminding him that you’re still there and you’re not going to disappear.
And it feels good.
And okay, Marlene may have been right.
And yeah, Fridays might be good.  But as he sits there with you until the late hours of the night, he’s sure: Saturdays are his new favorite day.  Because Saturdays brought him a new beginning when he wasn’t expecting it.
1K notes · View notes
hobbitsnapes · 4 years ago
Text
the elf in the café chapter 6
A corpse husband story
Tumblr media
(I do not own this photo, nor do I know where it originated from. All credit goes to the artist.)
Summary: Never in his life, did he think going to a cafe and meeting a Harry Potter nerd could change his life. (I’m shit at summaries
A/N: H/N means his name, being that we don’t know what his actual name is currently
Days past, and each one she grew more stressed.
It wasn’t due to him, if anything, he had been keeping her from having a breakdown. Truly becoming her rock as she did some days prior.
She had a presentation Friday, with today being Wednesday. She had done plenty of speeches, presentations, and public speaking. While all are nerve racking, none came close to this one.
It was open, as in more than just her classmates and teachers were present. She was frightened by this,knowing just the sheer amount of people that could be there. She just hoped and prayed she wouldn’t mess up.
It was now Thursday, and she was nearly on the verge of ripping out her hair from nerves. She red over her speech for probably the hundredth time that day, knowing exactly what to say, but going back and adding things or taking away things.
He had convinced her to spend the day and night in his apartment, promising that he’ll be busy the entire day, giving her the entire spacious living room to herself. Plus, his apartment was much closer to her college than her home. She jumped at the idea, thanking him profusely.
He finally emerged from his filming room, having been filming for the better part of the entire day. He would come out once in a while, grabbing a drink or a snack or to fill her glass of water, a soft thank you making him smile and chest bubble with warmth.
When he walked out, he was taken aback. Her usually neat, softly done hair now a disheveled mess. Her glasses nearly falling off her face as she looked close to having a breakdown. Papers of all kinds strung around her, along with opened books and her glass of water barely touched.
While the sight most would call cute, he found concerning. In the 2 months they had been going out, he’s been able to pick up on a few things about her. He was nowhere near her level, but he could pick out key things that depicted her moods when she wouldn’t voice them.
He walked over to her, making sure as to not step on any of her papers.
He crouched down to her, making her head leave her paper, a tired smile on her face. “Hey.” Her voice was strained, tired, like it wasn’t her who spent the better part of the day speaking. Her eyes looked bloodshot, even with the help of her glasses, he could tell they did little to help her. But even with the clever exhaustion written over her face, she still had her dazzling smile and sparkle to her eyes when she looked at him. Making his heart skip at the look of endearment she gave him. “Hey, you alright baby?” He had started calling her baby as of recently, it was an accident at first, but each time he did, her cheeks would flush and a small laugh would bubble out of her. “Not really, I’m about ready to cry.” His heart sunk at her words, hearing just how tired she was in her voice.
He put his hands on her shoulders, instantly noting how they dropped under his warm touch. “How about a break then, go into my room, pick out a shirt to wear and come back out okay?” He pleaded, a smile on his face when she nodded her head.
His breath caught in his throat again, only this time, his cheeks flushed when he looked at her. A laugh he tried with all his strength to keep down.
“What made you choose that one?” He chuckled, trying not to double over in laughter. She shrugged her shoulders, the shirt momentarily raising up,showing she also grabbed a pair of his boxers. “I gotta ask hun, why did you spill what I assume is wine on your white tee shirt?” He finally broke at her question, throwing his head back in laughter. If only she knew.
There they sat on the couch, his arm strung around her shoulders as they attempted to watch a film, but he could tell her mind was elsewhere.
Her eyes fixated on her papers she had neatly put into her folders, her books stacked and her speech later on top of everything.
He looked over to her, a small sigh leaving him. He wasn’t annoyed or upset at this, rather concerned for her. He could tell she wouldn’t relax properly without making this speech perfect, reminding him of himself in that way. Despite the ever present exhaustion on her face, her eyes still sparkled when she looked at him.
“What?” She chuckled, seeing his deep eyes looking at her. “Come here” he mumbled, pulling her body flush to his, her back against his front.
She relaxed almost immediately, leaning into his warm body. “How about you read it to me?” “What?” She mumbled, turning her body to face his. “I can tell you’re more nervous about the speaking rather than what you wrote. So, maybe reading it to me can help?” A soft smile adorned his face as he looked at her.
She reached for her papers, nessling back into his hold, smiling when she felt his lips press against her temple.
His heart hammers in his chest when he walks into the large auditorium, the amount of people in the large room making him want to run. But he couldn’t, not today at least.
He had toyed with the idea of going to her speech since she told him about it, something he never dreamed of doing for anyone else.
He truly made his decision the night prior, when she red through her speech into the late hours of the night. He was captivated not only by her voice, but the cast knowledge she bestowed in her. He knew she was intelligent beyond her years, beyond anyone he had met in his time. Her words flowed perfectly together, so much to say she so beautifully said. He didn’t know if he was captivated by the words, or because it was coming from her. But either way, he couldn’t say no to himself that morning when he got up, leaving an hour after she had left.
He sat in one of the many seats, only 3 rows away from where she’d be standing in only a few short minutes.
He was beyond excited for her, his nerves blending with the sheer joy and excitement inside of him for her.
His foot tapped against the floor, his hands clammy in his lap as he stared at the stage, waiting any minute to see her walk out.
His breath caught in his throat when she walked out, his eyes widening in shock and awe at her. He saw briefly what she was wearing, but seeing her on the stage, looking like an angel, he couldn’t help but let a large smile creep on his face.
Never had he been so captivated, enamored, and so proud as when she delivered her speech. Every word that fell past her lips had a purpose, a true deep meaning into her passion of the human mind that he didn’t think a human could comprehend. It was as if she was all knowing, could read anyone’s mind with just a glance at them. Never had he been so happy for someone in his life.
Claps heard around the room, hun joining in with pure happiness and viger in his face.
Her eyes locked with his, a large shocked smile on her face when she saw him. Never had he felt so proud as when she smiled at him, knowing it was only for him. This girl, this absolutely magnificent girl had stolen his heart, and vise versa. He was proud to say she chose him, out of everyone in the room, her eyes only for him. And he had never been so happy to say that.
Her heels barreled down the stairs when her eyes landed on him, her heart fluttering rapidly in her chest.
She fell into his arms, nearly making both fall over as he wrapped his arms tightly around her, picking her up and spinning her around. Laughter broke out of both of them at just the sheer joy in the air, nearly making both tear up at the range of emotions between them. “I can’t believe you came.” She exclaimed, a large smile on her face. “Of course, I couldn’t just hide in my apartment when something as big as this was happening.” He chuckled, his head resting on her shoulder.
She pulled back from him, resting her forehead on his, large smiles on both of their faces. “I’m so proud.” He whispered, making her smile. “And I’m so proud you overcame your fear and made it.” He ran his thumb over her cheek, “All because of you.”
Laughter broke out in the living room, her head resting against his chest as they clutched their stomachs.
They shared a few glasses of wine, brought out by him as a celebration.
They were so happy, not because of the alcohol, or the events of the day, but just being together again. It’s like there was an invisible pull between them, that neither could describe to anyone but themselves. They didn’t feel right without one another, neither feeling at peace or home unless the other was present. It was as if they were meant to be.
105 notes · View notes
ecto-american · 4 years ago
Text
The Bachelor
Phic Phight oneshot for @skellagirl: To help raise money for education, Vlad lets a date with himself be auctioned off. To his surprise, Harriet was quite a persistent bidder, and to his bigger surprise...he actually had a good time. Vlad/Harriet
On FFN and AO3
------------------------------------------------------------
"I don't need help getting a date, Jack," Vlad told him shortly. Why did he even come over to FentonWorks? He couldn't even remember why. At least he had some coffee to sip on. If Jack was actually good for anything, it was brewing good coffee.
"Oh come on, V-man! It's not like that! It's to raise money for education!" Jack tried to persuade as he was pouring himself his own cup. Vlad made a small face at the idea. "There's going to be lots of bachelors up there with ya, it won't be just you!"
"I don't think so." He had much better things to do than be paraded around.
"Please Vlad?" Jack nearly begged.
"You know, Vlad, you'd be quite the crowd-drawer," Maddie finally spoke up. Vlad glanced over at her. She was focused on some ectoplasmic samples that were on the counter, dangerously close to some chicken that was marinating for dinner. Mental note; do NOT stay for dinner tonight. "You're likely Amity Park's most sought after bachelor." She looked over her shoulder at him, and with a clearly fake smile, she added, "It'd be really good for you to have a nice woman who's interested in you."
Vlad frowned at her emphasis. He took another drink. It would look good if he showed up for appearances, got it over with and wowed some whatever woman into helping his media image. Election season was coming up, and he was up against the ex-mayor. Doing something for the children would definitely boost him.
"...It is for charity," he said slowly. "And after all, a man like me could fetch for a nice price."
"Of course!" Jack boomed excitedly. "You were voted sexiest billionaire by Cosmopolitan this year!" Oh god, why the hell did Jack know that? And say that? "Trust me, the crowd'll got mad for you!"
Vlad forced a smile.
"I cannot wait."
------------------------------------------------------------
He really could have waited. Friday night had come, and he found himself very reluctantly walking around the Casper High gym, looking at all the silent auction items up on display on cheap collapsable tables. Vlad mentally thanked himself for making sure Daniel would be too busy all night with Skulker to even have the time to come around to laugh at him.
Ugh, nothing really that good was around up for auction in here. Except for him, obviously. He could tell who was a bachelor for auction just by seeing who else was way overdressed to be standing around in a public high school on a Friday night, and Vlad already knew that he was the best option. He spied another one of these men as the individual picked his nose and wiped it on one of the tables. Vlad made a grossed out face. Easily, the best option.
He glanced around more, boredly trying to waste another twenty minutes before he had to go to the auditorium for the bachelor auctioning. This was the worst. Why did he agree to this? His eyes scanned for any familiar face.
"Harriet!" Vlad instantly recognized the journalist. She turned to face him, giving a small smile and wave when she realized who it was. He took a few steps over towards her. "What are you doing here?"
"My niece goes to Casper High," she replied. "So I decided to come around." She nodded her head at the silent auction she was seemingly considering. It was a high end camera bundle, including not just a high end camera but extra lenses, batteries, the case, the whole works honestly, donated by a local electronics store. "Check it out. Maybe even buy a date so that my mother stops asking me about when I'm getting married," she lightly joked. Vlad chuckled.
"You should consider just buying me," Vlad half-joked back. "I'm by far your best option." Harriet gave a hum as she raised an eyebrow.
"Oh really?" she inquired. Vlad motioned to himself as if it was obvious, flashing a smile.
"Of course. Self made billionaire, tech industry pioneer, scientist, mayor of this fine city, and that's just the beginning," he bragged. She lightly shook her head with a smirk.
"Part time Dairy King worker that somehow caught the ice cream machine on fire, Skunk Punks lead singer whose voice cracked every time he sung anything and guitarist who couldn't play guitar," she listed off. Vlad rolled his eyes with a frown. "Idiot who kept sticking his head into the lab equipment machines and lost his eyebrows for six months. Skater wanna-be that broke both of his ankles trying to do tricks on the campus fountain." Vlad scowled.
"You can stop now," he complained. Harriet laughed.
"Oh, I almost need to buy you purely so that I can remind you that you're not all that and a bag of chips," she replied. "And I can finally corner you into an actual interview. You keep pushing me off." She faked a pout. "It's almost like you don't wanna be around me."
"Don't you have to be nosy somewhere else?" he asked.
"Hmm, not tonight." She glanced up at the clock on the wall. "I should go find a seat for the auction. You should probably get up on stage, make yourself look all nice and presentable."
Vlad rolled his eyes, waving her off.
"I need to use the restroom first," he replied. "You head on out."
"See up on the stage. Too bad this isn't Chippendales," she joked. Vlad felt his cheeks flush, and he glared at her. She walked off. Vlad glanced down at the camera bundle she had been eying. He glanced at the auction sheet, and he could tell by the handwriting that she had put in a bid that he knew somebody would eventually counter-offer. Vlad wrote his auctioning number down, and a bid he knew nobody would go over before he made his way to the auditorium.
------------------------------------------------------------
Finally, it was his turn. They put him last, which he completely understood. Always save the best for last. He nearly had dozed off in boredom in his seat while everybody else was auctioned off for barely a hundred dollars.
"We'll start the bidding, as always, at fifty dollars," the overly enthusiastic host said. Vlad mentally scoffed. He was definitely worth more than that. Ugh, this was the last time he did anything to help children. Fuck those little brats. "Fifty-five!"
A bunch of the auction fans shot up in the air. Vlad smiled in satisfaction.
"Oh wow! Okay, well how about sixty-five?" None of the hands went down. "Seventy-five." Two hands went down. "Eighty-five?" Three more hands reluctantly went down. "A hundred?" Most of the hands kept on standing. "Well!" the host chuckled, before directing his attention to Vlad. "You sure are a popular fella!"
No shit. He was a billionaire.
"Let's jump up a bit! One hundred fifty!" Finally, a good amount of the hands went down, leaving only a handful up. "One hundred seventy-five!" No hands down. "Two hundred!" A few reluctantly went down, leaving only four. "Okay, okay! How about-"
"Three hundred!" one of the women called out. The auctioneer looked surprised.
"Oh! Oh um. Okay! Does anybody wanna go higher than three hundred?" he asked.
"Three twenty-five!" Harriet's voice was instantly recognized by Vlad, and he stared in surprise.
"Three-fifty!" the first woman rebutted. Vlad studied her, only to quickly notice that this was a woman he really hadn't ever met before.
"Three seventy five!" Harriet wasted no time putting in her counter offer.
"Four hundred!"
"Four twenty five!"
"Four fifty!"
Vlad watched Harriet as the reporter's jaw clenched. She was staring at the competition with a hard stare.
"Five hundred!" she finally spoke. The other woman studied her, before giving a defeated sigh.
"No counter offer," the unfamiliar lady finally spoke. The auctioneer grinned, pointing to Harriet.
"Well! Looks like our highest prize of the night goes to bidder number seventy-four!"
Harriet met Vlad's eye, and she smiled. He smiled back.
------------------------------------------------------------
"So," Vlad asked, giving a coy smile. "You sure were an insistent bidder." Harriet flushed.
"I did it for the schools," she argued. "My niece goes to Casper High, remember?"
"Oh, I mean, if you did it just to help the schools," Vlad lightly teased. "Then we don't have to go out on the date." Harriet scoffed.
"No way, dude. I spent five-hundred dollars on you, and I'm going to get my money's worth." She poked him in the chest. "Which also means that you're buying me dinner, and some nice wine." Vlad rolled his eyes.
"Alright, alright," he reluctantly agreed. "What time shall I pick you up?" Harriet smiled.
"Uh, depends. When are you free? Tomorrow around seven? Ah, who am I kidding." She smirked at him. "You're probably free whenever. What else do you got going on? Be honest."
Vlad flushed red, scowling.
"Okay, I do happen to be free tomorrow night, but normally I'm not!" he insisted. Harriet snorted. "So you need to make sure you check with me before you schedule something."
"You got nothing," she teased in a sing-song voice.
"Oh? And what do you do?" Vlad challenged. She hummed.
"Well, typically on Mondays I visit my grandmother, Wednesday is girls' night with my friends, Thursdays I have my yoga class, and on the weekends I normally get friends with friends or co-workers, go hike, short trip. Whatever I feel like," she replied without missing a beat. Vlad hated Jack for convincing him to do this stupid auction. "And of course, several days a week I go to the gym."
"I go to the gym too," Vlad insisted. Harriet raised an eyebrow at him. "I do! I'm in excellent shape."
"Are you going to the gym, or do you use a home gym in your mansion?" she pressed. Vlad didn't reply. "Thought so. Guess we're on tomorrow at seven?"
"...Tomorrow at seven."
------------------------------------------------------------
Vlad had opted to simply drive himself in one of his flashy, yet more modest cars. It was honestly kind of hard to go to many places in a limo anyway, and not very intimate when there was an unintentional third party hanging out in the car. Harriet had texted him her address earlier, and he showed up right on time, pulling his car up to the curb of her house. A gentleman was never late, after all.
He parked, not bothering to lock his doors as he stepped up to her house. It was a typical small home in a decent little neighborhood. Not one that Vlad could ever imagine himself living in however, but it was cute. He stood at her front door. He exhaled harshly, mentally preparing himself.
He'd be lying to himself if he said that he wasn't nervous. It was one thing to date a new woman he had just met, but this was Harriet. She knew him when he was still a broke college student that worked part time at Dairy King and was in that terrible punk band with Jack.
Vlad rang her doorbell. He absentmindedly wondered if he'd have to wait on her for long, but thankfully, Harriet answered the door fairly quickly.
"Hey! Look at you!" she greeted cheerfully. Vlad knew he flushed a bit at the compliment, which made him...feel weird. That never happened before. "You really cleaned up for me." Okay now he had to roll his eyes a little. Vlad was in a nicer suit compared to normal, with a darker shirt collar and cufflinks, more polished shoes and the like.
"Ah, I'm nothing compared to how lovely you look this evening," he returned the compliment, and he could see Harriet's cheeks brighten a bit under her porch's poor lighting. They had texted each other about their plans, and so she had dressed appropriately for the five star restaurant; a black dress with dark green detailing that came to her knees, matching shoes and her hair done up. She had a formal black jacket over her arm, as well as a clutch handbag. "Are you ready?"
"Uh, one second!" Harriet turned to her door, checking to ensure it was locked. Once she did so, she turned, slipping her arm into his. "Now I am."
"Well, off we go," he smiled. "I think you'll like where we're going. It has the most divine sushi in Amity Park."
"I can't wait," Harriet replied. "I love sushi. Remember that campus sushi bar?"
"Absolutely," he replied. He walked her down the porch to his car. "Maddie worked there. She used to sneak us huge takeout boxes of leftovers."
"Oh I nearly forgot about that," Harriet laughed. "I'd help her smuggle out the boxes in my backpack."
"And you got soy sauce all over your bag four times," he chuckled. Harriet grumbled.
"Yeah, I had to re-print my final paper," she complained. "And eventually get a new bag that didn't smell like sushi all the time."
Vlad opened the car door for her. She slipped her arm out, giving him a thanks as she slipped inside.
------------------------------------------------------------
Naturally, he had made a reservation for the best seat in the house; a table in a more private area of the place, indoors but near a large window that had a good view of the beautiful landscaping in their limited yard-area.
After giving his car to the valet and getting seated, Vlad glanced at the menu, immediately spying his favorite, rock shrimp tempura. However he looked around to see what else was available. Hmm, he was somewhat in the mood for BBQ Unagi…
"What do you normally get?" Harriet questioned as she looked over her options.
"...Know what? Since this is your first time, maybe we should just get morimoto omakase," Vlad suggested. He gently pushed her menu down so that he could look at it, and he pointed to the option. Harriet scanned the description. Essentially a dish with a little bit of everything.
"Ooo, that sounds good," Harriet mused.
"It's delicious, and it pairs well with white wine," Vlad told her. She smiled.
"Let's get that then," she agreed.
When the waiter came by, they ordered just that. Quickly, the waiter had come back to bring them the bottle of white wine, pouring them their first glass for them before leaving the bottle at Vlad's request. They each took a sip.
"Mmm, this is pretty good," Harriet spoke first. "I typically just get a red wine."
"I do too," Vlad replied. "But white wine goes well with fish." Harriet gave a surprised hum before taking another drink. "You probably know too much about me though. Tell me about your work. Amity News." She nodded.
"Yeah, I'm one of the main news anchors," she replied.
"Oh trust me, I know. I get to watch you tell me the news every day, it's a highlight of the day," Vlad complimented. Harriet rolled her eyes with a flush.
"Alright, cheesehead," she teased. "But yeah, I really love it. When I was younger I really enjoyed investigative journalism, since it let me go all over, but I'm really liking being in one place. Though I occasionally go out on the scene, but it's kinda dangerous to cover ghost fights here. And what we have Lance for."
Vlad snorted. He knew the news man too well. He was, as the kids called it, a meme at this point. He knew Daniel and his friends constantly posted these memes of Lance Thunder on social media, making fun of his on the scene appearances.
"What do you make of all these ghosts?" Vlad questioned. Harriet shrugged.
"Well, they certainly exist. Honestly thought Jack was stupid to try and build that one ghost portal in college. Even though. Ugh, Jack is such a buffoon sometimes," Harriet grumbled. "I still haven't forgiven him for costing me my job in Milwaukee, especially since I used him as a reliable source. Ugh!" She stopped herself to finish off her glass of wine. She exhaled deeply as she put the glass down, half-smiling apologetically. "Sorry. I know he's your friend."
"No, no no," Vlad replied eagerly. "I understand. After all, it was my home he destroyed, remember?" Harriet nodded.
"He had to have done thousands in damage," she said sympathetically. "Especially to your library. Oh, and it was a beautiful library too."
"It was one of my favorite rooms in that house," Vlad sighed. "I rebuilt the room, but it just wasn't ever quite the same. My new library, however, it's simply gorgeous."
"Oh?" Harriet questioned. Vlad took it as a sign to continue.
"It's a two story library, for once, like a true two story library. The lighting is fantastic, but also on a dimmer so the mood can be truly set," he began to describe. "I managed to slowly rebuild my collection of the classics, and there's a wood burning fireplace. Oh and of course, my favorite, the small reading nook with the most comfortable chair you will ever sit in next to a huge window. It's simply perfect."
"Oh, I would probably sit in that nook and read forever," Harriet sighed dreamily. Vlad smiled, picking up the bottle of wine with a raised eyebrow. Harriet picked her glass up, holding it for him to pour her some more. He did so, before refilling his own glass. She took another long sip of her drink.
"I would more often, but unfortunately, it's also the cat's favorite spot, and I can never bring myself to move her," he confessed. Harriet beamed.
"Vlad! You never told me you had a cat!" she exclaimed. "What's his name?" Vlad felt a cold sweat hit him. Wait.
"Maggie," he lied. "When I adopted her, that was what they called her, and it didn't feel right to change it." Harriet nodded understandingly. She set her glass of wine down to dig through her clutch, and she pulled her phone out.
"I have the most handsome little guy, his name's Taggy. Short for Maytag," she said. She showed Vlad her phone, exposing a picture of a grey and white cat stretched out in a cat hammock near a window. But that name...
"...Maytag? As in the company?"
Harriet flushed a bit.
"When I moved into my first apartment, his previous owners had left him, and so my old roommate and I began calling him Maytag after the refrigerator, since he came with the apartment, and we put food in him," she explained. "Then my roommate got married, and her husband's cats didn't get along with Taggy, so I just kept him, and he's moved six times with me since then." Vlad cracked a smile.
"Mad-ggie's name has kind of devolved into me just calling her Princess," he admitted. "I've bought so many luxury cat things for her and beds, the drinking fountain water bowl, wet food, the best vet in all of Illinois. Only the finest."
"I do the same for Taggy, much as I can afford. He's my special guy."
The waiter shyly interrupted them, bringing them each a huge plate of food. Harriet eyed hers hungrily, thanking him cheerfully.
"Oh, this does delicious," Harriet beamed. She took her chopsticks, and grabbed a bite. Vlad took another sip of wine before he did the same. "It tastes great too!"
"You think I'd steer you wrong?" Vlad lightly bragged.
"Who knows," Harriet shrugged. She gave a sly smirk. "You're the one who steered us all so wrong that you got the van stuck in a snowbank." Vlad glared at her, making her burst into snickers.
They ate in silence for a few moments, savoring their meal. Harriet took another long drink of her wine, and Vlad refilled it for her. She gave a smile.
"Thank you," she said. "Do you like your food?"
"Very much so, it's delicious," he replied. "How's yours?"
"Great, I never had such delicious food!" She ate another chopstick full of food. "I guess this is how five star dining is, huh? I made a good date investment. But next time I gotta take you to a diner."
"Oh?" Vlad raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I get the feeling that you eat too fancy," she explained. "Sometimes you just need the greasiest burger and saltiest fries that you wash down with cheap soda."
"Hmm, wouldn't you prefer I take you to a five star steakhouse?" he questioned.
"You can take me there on our third date," Harriet replied. Vlad raised his eyebrow again. "But for date too, I think you need a greasy burger."
"Third date?" he echoed. He took a drink of his wine, finishing it off.
"Yeah, I think you'll wanna take me out again," Harriet hummed. She reached for the wine to refill his glass for him.
"Thank you, dear. But really?"
"Absolutely, I'm a catch," she replied. "I've travelled the world, I'm very educated, financially stable, have my own house, am very pretty." She jokingly flipped her hair.
"Ah, I'd say you're more of a beauty than just very pretty," Vlad mused. Harriet smiled.
"Aww, thank you cheesehead," she replied. "But yes. So naturally, I think you're not going to be able to resist asking me to accompany you out again. I did you a favor by bidding on you, actually."
"We'll see how the night ends, and who's wanting a second date more," Vlad said. "I mean, yes you are quite a catch, but I think you're forgetting who was voted as sexiest billionaire by Cosmopolitan magazine." Harriet nearly choked on her wine from laughter.
"Oh my god, you read Cosmo?" she giggled. Vlad flushed red.
"N-no, I was told this," he insisted. "When I got voted as such." Harriet had to put her chopsticks down, covering her mouth as she tried to contain her laughter. Vlad slammed back the rest of his wine, refilling his own cup.
"Oh man, you really haven't changed all that much." She took a deep breath to get her laughter under control. "Same ol' cute Vlad." This peaked his interest.
"You thought I was cute?" he asked. Harriet flushed, picking her chopsticks back up to continue eating.
"Eh, kinda. In that nerdy sorta way," she confessed. "I tried getting your attention a few times, but you never seemed too interested. You were always really distracted by that portal project."
More like distracted by Maddie, as she was a huge reason why he was so interested in helping with the proto portal project. Remembering the woman of his dreams made him pause. He suddenly felt guilty that he was out on a date. And Maddie's college best friend of all people!
Of course, he had dated here and there. Maddie was, unfortunately, married, so he knew that rationally he had to somewhat try and move on. But nobody had ever truly clicked with him, or made him feel like she had. His mind was often distracted by her the entire time but...until now he had actually forgotten about Maddie.
"Ah yeah, I was...really focused on school," he half-lied, taking another bite of food.
"I could tell. Nerd," she jibbed. "Even now I can tell you're super busy with all your business stuff."
"Not as busy as you'd think, but also yes," Vlad corrected. "I have a lot of meetings to attend and business decisions to make, but I at least get a lot of help and feedback."
"That's true," Harriet said. "But I'm glad we're able to do something now. Even if we just never got around to it back then." She poked at one of her foods with her chopstick before taking the bite. "I mean, I've been kind of all over too. I don't think anything would have even worked out had we even tried something."
"Ah, yes. I remember Maddie mentioning that you were never in one place for more than two months for a long time," Vlad said.
"Yup!" she confirmed. "That's investigative journalism for ya. Takes you all over. But I really liked it. I'm glad I had that opportunity, and that I did it. Don't regret a bit of it."
"Business too," he agreed. "Especially when you're starting an empire. I don't think I was truly home for months at a time, I was going from place to place to oversee offices being built and products being made. Seeing how progress is being made on research. It was a busy first fifteen years or so. I don't think I was truly relaxing and enjoying what I'd made until the past six years or so."
"Yeah, I remember reading about your progress," she said. "Fascinating story. You had such amazing charisma to get all these companies to go with your plans." Vlad felt a bit of a nervous wave hit him, but he didn't show it, or really even have to reply. Harriet had already moved on. "Ugh, this was so good. I can't believe I was able to eat all of this."
Her plate was empty, and he had just taken his last bite.
"Would you like dessert?" he asked. She shook her head no.
"Nah, I'm good. I've eaten enough," she replied. Vlad just nodded, and he called their water over.
Instead of waiting to get a receipt book from the waiter, he simply handed him his credit card. Vlad never checked the bill when he went out to eat. The price tag never bothered him.
The waiter accepted it, soon coming back for Vlad to sign. Vlad quickly did, and for his trouble, he also handed the young man five hundred dollar bills as a tip. It made him nearly tear up and stutter as he thanked him, but quite honestly, it was more to show off to Harriet his generosity more than any genuine kindness, which, judging by her expression, absolutely worked.
Vlad gave him a half smile and waved him off, and the pair collected their things to leave, heading towards the front of the restaurant arm in arm.
"You know, the night's still young," Vlad mused. He opened the door for her, and Harriet slipped through.
"Thank you," she replied. "But oh? You don't have work?"
"Nothing that can't be rearranged," he replied. "Do you?" Harriet smiled.
"Nope, I have tomorrow off. So what are you thinking?" she asked. Vlad glanced at his watch. Hell, it was only ten-thirty.
"Have you ever been to the Amity Park Country Club?" he questioned. She nodded.
"Oh yeah. I've been there as a guest twice, for interviews," she explained. She glanced at her phone. "Doesn't it close soon though?" Vlad chuckled.
"On midnights on the weekends," he replied.
"Hmm, okay," Harriet agreed. "But we won't stay too long."
Vlad went up to the valet, informing him of his car make and model, and the young man nodded, jogging off to fetch it.
"My dear, I'm a high priority member. They'll stay open for me," he insisted. Harriet rolled her eyes.
"The workers wanna go home too, Vlad," she reminded him. "We should be respectful of their time and leave when it closes."
Vlad resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was above having to follow those kinds of petty rules. When you had billions in the bank, you could easily just toss a few thousand out to make workers let you stay past the closing time with no issues. He had never heard a single complaint after he flashed a few thousand, a drop in the bucket for him. But what Harriet wanted, she would get. He supposed, anyway. After a few dates, she'd likely just begin agreeing with him and allow him to bend the rules for her.
After a few dates? Vlad thought on it. Yeah...after a few dates.
"Whatever you wish," he replied.
His car pulled up, and Vlad immediately opened the car door for her.
------------------------------------------------------------
"And it just kind turned into a semi-permanent offer until I got kinda homesick," Harriet finished her story off as she hit another ball with the golf club. Vlad hummed lightly as her ball went off towards somewhere in the dark. "But it was amazing. I'd love to return to China sometime. Kinda unfortunately, Amity Park doesn't really cover international news like that. It's very local only."
"Maybe you should just come with me next time I go," Vlad offered. He grabbed another golf ball from their large bucket of them, setting it on the tee before lining himself up. With an experienced swing, he hit the ball, and it flew off. "To China, I mean. I go there about twice a year or so for business. Sometimes more."
"Ugh, that'd be awesome," Harriet agreed. She leaned over to pick up her drink, a pink margarita, that was resting on the tables that were set up near the driving range. Her jacket and clutch were on the table too, her heels tucked under the table. Vlad had also folded his suit jacket neatly to rest next to hers, allowing himself to also unbutton and roll his sleeves up to his elbows, and the top two buttons of his shirt. He also had his own drink, a rum and coke, that sat near hers. "I can show you all the local spots from my time there."
"Hm, that would be very nice," Vlad mused. He hit another ball. He was somewhat glad that Harriet had talked him out of doing the full course. While he didn't care (and Harriet very much did) that it would have taken far past closing time to finish a game, it was much more relaxing to just do this. Especially with nobody else being around. "I typically do only business."
"Oh boo, that's boring," Harriet said. She already had another ball on her tee, and she wacked it again. The ball went soaring. "What's the point of all your money if you're not enjoying yourself and your life?"
Vlad didn't reply. He focused on another swing. The ball stayed close to the ground, quickly rolling on and on and on before he couldn't see where it went anymore.
"You were married before, weren't you?" Vlad questioned. Harriet snorted.
"Oh, we're already at the 'let's talk about our exes' part of the relationship?" she teased. Vlad chuckled, grabbing another ball. "Eh, for about seven years. Nothing bad happened, we just realized that we weren't really as compatible as we thought. I enjoyed traveling the world and being out, and he was a big homebody that hated planes and trains. Started to realize that I wanted a family one day, he preferred it to be just us. We didn't see each other that much cause I would go cover stories all over, and it just felt like we'd be happier. So we just kind of had a mutual divorce."
"I can understand that," Vlad replied. He lightly tapped his ball twice before swinging the club as hard as he could. The ball straight up disappeared in a blink of an eye.
"So what's your excuse for never having a girlfriend before?" Harriet questioned. Vlad was grateful about the lighting, as he knew that his face was dark red. "Too busy with work, too nerdy, what?"
"I've had a girlfriend before!" he argued. "I've dated women plenty before. Don't you remember Stacy?"
"Nope," Harriet replied. She hit another ball.
"Yes you do!" he insisted. He took a break from swinging, leaning on his club. "I was with her for four years! Out of all the women I dated she was the one the papers and articles talked about the most. Don't you remember all the rumors swirling around about why we hadn't gotten married already?"
"Hmm, must have been a figment of your imagination," Harriet replied, and he exhaled dramatically. He finally noticed the shit-eatting grin, and that she was just pulling his leg. She giggled, grabbing another golf ball. She tossed it up into the air, catching it before putting it on the tee. "Okay, okay. So why didn't you?"
"Why didn't I what?" Vlad questioned. He took a step towards their table, grabbing his drink. He needed it right about now.
"Marry Stacy," Harriet clarified.
"Eh, it just wasn't really meant to be," he dismissed simply. He took a long gulp of his drink, sighing softly when he finished.
"Oh?" Harriet pressed. He frowned. He should have known that she was going to be nosy about it. Typical journalist.
"...I could tell that we didn't really like each other all that much," he confessed. "We were just both lonely. We would go places together but never actually be together. We lived together but never saw each other outside of bedtime, though towards the end, she began to just sleep in a separate room since our schedules would be so different. We talked about getting married on and off, but...I don't know when it clicked for me that this just wasn't what I truly wanted. I wanted a wife and children that I spent time with and that I loved being with. So we just kind of broke up, and she moved out."
Harriet nodded understandingly.
"At least you realized it before children potentially got involved," she said. "I'm glad I divorced with no children. I'd hate to put them through something like that."
"Agreed," Vlad replied. He picked up another golf ball. Instead of bending over to put it on the ground, he lazily dropped it and hit the ball on the bounce. "How many would you want?"
"Hm? What? Kids?" Harriet questioned. Vlad gave a 'mhm' noise to confirm. "At least two. A boy and a girl. What about you?"
"As many as possible," he said. He got another ball. "I always wanted a big family."
"Hmm, well I'm not a clown car," Harriet replied. "Regardless of how often I'd let a clown like you in." Vlad rolled his eyes. "Besides, you have Jasmine and Danny right? Maddie and Jack's kids?"
"Yeah, they're my godchildren," Vlad confirmed. He reached over for another quick sip of his drink. "I bought Jasmine her car. When Daniel gets his license I'll be getting him one too. And of course, paying for college. I have a few other godchildren too, same deal. I've gotten them all a car and paid for college. Can't let them have any of that dreadful student loan debt."
"Aw, you're just a big ol' softie," Harriet teased. "I'm not a billionaire, so I can't really do the same, but I'm pitching in to help my sister get my niece a decent used car next year. By the time her little brother's getting a car, I'll likely be doing the same."
"You're looking for cars for her?" Vlad mused. "I can get her one." Harriet shook her head.
"No, that's not necessary," she replied. "It's a lot to ask."
"Nonsense, I have the money to spare," he persisted. "A decent used car. Children don't need brand new ones, they're still learning." Harriet bit her lower lip as she pondered the offer.
"We'll discuss it another time with my sister," she said. Vlad nodded in agreement. He grabbed a ball. Their bucket was nearly empty now.
"I understand," he replied. Harriet picked up one of the last balls. She tossed it up in the air and swung her bat. She missed, but she quickly was able to redeem herself by hitting it on the third bounce. "I just hate to see children go without. That's why I was auctioned off, afterall. For the sake of the kids." Harriet gave a skeptical hum, getting another ball. "...Well, you know, if we're going to go out again, I need to make a good first impression on your family."
"That's better," Harriet replied. "If we're going to hang out more like this, we need to be open and honest with each other."
Vlad picked up the last ball. He stared at it for a moment, and he put it on Harriet's tee for her. She shot him a thankful smile, and she wacked the ball into the night.
"There'll be more, right?" Vlad asked.
"Well, if you're free next Friday, we can go see a show," Harriet suggested. She went back to the table, slipping into her heels again. She downed the last bit of her drink. "Local theater's opening weekend is soon."
Next weekend was terrible. Vlad had so much to do that following week that he'd have to spend all weekend preparing for. Many meetings, lots of documents to read and write and revise. Moving anything around would be an absolute headache.
But it could be moved around.
"Sounds lovely," he agreed. He finished off his drink before rolling his sleeves down again. He slipped his jacket back on. "Ready to head home?"
"We have to take the cups and clubs back up to the office," she said, nodding at the country club. Vlad made a face, and he began to protest, but a Look from Harriet made him shut up.
"Alright, alright," he sighed. Harriet grabbed their cups, and he took their clubs.
------------------------------------------------------------
"Next Friday, right?" Harriet asked as they took the final step up onto her porch.
"Yes, I'll call you tomorrow to organize a proper time," Vlad told her. He paused as he suddenly remembered. "One second."
He did a half-jog back to his car, opening the backseat and pulling out a basket. As he returned to the door, it became clear as to what it was. It was the camera bundle she had been bid on at the auction, and she stared at it.
"Here, I had noticed you bid on it. I wanted to make sure you got it," he explained, handing it out to her.
"You bought that?" she questioned.
"Yes, I knew that you'd be outbid. So I just made sure that you could get it," he replied. Harriet smiled warmly, accepting it.
"Thank you," she said. She set it on one of the porch chairs for now. "This was honestly such a great night. Gotta admit, I was kinda skeptical, but you really impressed me."
"Of course, didn't you say yourself that you made a good investment," he joked. Harriet snickered.
"Yeah, but I think even I surprised myself," she said. "I thought I was just going to buy a nice, fancy one dinner, but I'm pretty sure I actually did buy somebody that I'm going to be introducing to my mom." She gestured to her front door. "Did you wanna come inside for a bit? Pretty sure you're too tired to make the long drive home."
"I don't live too far," Vlad replied. "It's about twenty minutes, I can easily get home."
"Oh?" Harriet lightly pressed. "You sure you're not too tired though? Don't need a coffee or anything? Or want to take a nap before you go?"
It finally clicked.
"Ah, you know, I think I would like to rest a bit before I go," he agreed. Harriet smiled, turning to unlock her door. Vlad grabbed the camera basket for her, and they went inside.
47 notes · View notes
leiasfanaccount648 · 4 years ago
Text
Have a Grande Day
Tumblr media
Testuro Kuroo x Fem!Reader
Summary: Finals week is rough on all college students, especially before the holidays. What better way than trying to keep them all awake by offering free coffee and hot chocolate?
Warnings/Contains: Fluff, slight pining, lots of flirting and puns about coffee.
Word Count: 2,158
Monday
Everyone knows how tough college can make one person. Each class has a different schedule and due dates, and sometimes the professors change those things at the last minute. Of course, when it comes to finals week, they’re always at the top of their game.
Some classes are harder than others, especially depending on the major, and most of the time it is STEM majors that end up having a more difficult time. For Testuro Kuroo, however, he hasn’t had a moment to relax for the past three weeks due to studying whenever he didn’t have anything to do. And now, all that studying was about to (hopefully) pay off as finals week was finally upon him and everyone else at his college.
His first class was CHEM 255 at 8am, and he managed to pull himself out of bed early enough so he could get a coffee at the Starbucks on campus beforehand. He didn’t bother with his appearance, simply wearing jeans and an old hoodie from high school. If was going to get through the week, he was going to do so comfortably and with lots of caffeine.
He passed by a couple familiar faces he had seen around campus as well as his other classes as he made his way towards the building that held the Starbucks inside; however, something caught his eye. He squinted his eyes slightly as he tried to read the sign beside the plastic table that was set outside the building.
‘Better latte than never! Free Coffee & Hot Cocoa from the Student Council!’
Testuro smiled a little at the pun and made his way towards the table where some other students had already gathered to get in line. Why spend five dollars on a medium sized drink when he can get a large black coffee for free? As he got closer to the front of the line, he saw the group that was running the table, three girls and two guys. He assumed that they would trade out shifts since they surely had finals to go to themselves, but it was nice of them to help their fellow students out during this time.
Soon enough, it was his turn to get his drink. The girl at the front of the table smiled at him, almost making him laugh at the fact that she looked so happy during such a stressful week. “Hi! Would you like coffee or hot chocolate?”
“Coffee, please.”
The girl grabbed a large thermos that Testuro could only assume held the coffee to keep it warm while they were outside in the cold weather “What size?”
Testuro glanced to the side, not thinking much about his words. “Grande,” his eyes widened in realization, “sorry, I meant a medium.” He chuckled softly to try and dismiss his mistake. The girl laughed as well, shaking her head as she grabbed a to go coffee cup and began to fill it with the coffee.
“It’s okay. It’s 7:30 in the morning on a Monday, I totally get it.” She placed a lid on the cup before grabbing a sharpie and writing something on the cup. “Were you wanting any cream or sugar?”
Testuro nodded. “Uh, yeah, one of each please.”
The girl reached underneath the table and grabbed the items as well as a stir stick and stopper for the drink’s lid. She placed the stopper in the lid before handing it to him along with the creamer and sugar as well as the stir stick. “Here you go. Good luck with your finals.” She smiled, making Testuro do the same out of kindness.
“Thanks, you too.” With that, he walked away from the table, stopping by an outside eating area to set his drink down so he could add the cream and sugar. As he took the lid off, he noticed the writing on the side.
‘Have a grande day!’
Testuro let out a laugh, shaking his head at how much he liked the pun. He quickly added in his sweeteners, looking back at the table to see the girl writing on other people’s cups too. After he was done stirring his coffee and placed the lid back on, he saw the girl grab her backpack and wave to her friends before leaving the table, most likely heading to take one of her finals as well.
Testuro watched her walk away before he began walking in the opposite direction, sipping his coffee as he went to go take his final, sighing as he already felt more awake.
Tuesday
Testuro groaned as he woke up, dragging himself out of bed as he read the time on his phone; only one hour until his next final at 11:30am. At least this course, BIO 302, was one that he was confident in passing. Still, that didn’t mean that he could leave his dorm 10 minutes before class started.
He didn’t bother switching up his outfit, wearing the same pair of jeans and hoodie from the day before. He left his dorm about 20 minutes later, as the building he needed to go to was on the opposite end of campus.
He once again passed by the food court building and saw the same plastic table and sign advertising free coffee and hot chocolate. He noticed that the line was longer this time, and that there were two this time.
“If you’re only here for hot chocolate I can help you here!”
Testuro watched as a couple people from one line joined the other, but it was still pretty short compared to the one of people who were wanting caffeine in their systems. He checked his phone for the time before glancing back at the table, seeing the girl from yesterday now serving hot chocolate to people. He couldn’t deny that she was pretty, and she seemed to have a good sense of humor as well. Plus, he still had about 40 minutes before his class started.
He got in the line for the hot chocolate, placing his phone back in his pocket. Soon enough, he was at the front of the line. He smiled as the girl did the same. “Hello again.”
“Hi there.” She laughed softly, grabbing a different large thermos from yesterday, her eyes widening when she noticed how light it now felt in her hand. “Sorry, give me one second.” She gave him a sympathetic smile before turning around to grab another thermos and handing the previous one to one of the people she was working with so they could refill it.
“You’re good. I’m in no rush.”
“That’s good to hear.” She turned back around, opening up the container. “What size?”
“A small is fine.”
The girl nodded, grabbing the cup and pouring the drink into it. “Whipped cream and marshmallows?”
“Yes, please.” Testuro watched as she grabbed a can of whipped cream along with a bag of mini marshmallows. “By the way, the coffee was great yesterday.”
“Oh, thank you. I’m glad to hear.” The girl smiled as she put on a plastic glove to put the whipped cream atop the liquid along with a small handful of marshmallows.
“Well, it’s not every day that you get delicious coffee from someone so brew-tiful.” Testuro smirked slightly, hoping that she would like his pun.
The girl hesitated for a moment as she reached for a lid to put on the cup. It was obvious that she was taking in what he just said; she chuckled, her cheeks now a shade of pink as she grabbed a lid and put it on the drink. Her smile was still prominent on her face as she grabbed the sharpie from the table and began writing on his cup. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
The girl handed him the cup, meeting his gaze one last time before he walked away and she went to help the next person in line. Testuro looked at the side of his cup to see what she wrote as he continued on his way to class.
‘You’re smoking hot!’
Testuro grinned, glancing over his shoulder to look back at the girl before taking a sip of his drink.
Friday
Testuro had managed to get through his finals for the semester, some of course being tougher than others. And every day he managed to stop by the table on his way to class to see the girl and get a cup of coffee or hot chocolate. However, as he was now finished with all of his classes, he didn’t even have to leave his dorm if he felt like it; but he still wanted to see the girl before she possibly left campus for winter break. He didn’t even know her name, but that didn’t stop him from trying to get to know her better during their brief meetings every day.
On Wednesday, he stopped by later in the afternoon, since he stayed up late the night before playing video games with Koutarou and Kenma and his final that day was his night class at 7pm. The girl was there and the two of them talked about their finals since not many people were getting drinks. That day his cup read ‘you’re cool beans!’
On Thursday, he had his last three finals, so he didn’t have time to stop by the table until the evening when the people who were there were packing things up. The girl was there thankfully, and she offered him a cup of hot chocolate that they had left over; the cup read ‘you’ve bean on my mind a latte.’
Today, however, he dropped by during the middle of the day when most people were most likely in classes or had possibly already left for winter break. Part of him was afraid that the girl had already left as well, but he was hopeful nonetheless. When he got there, he saw her about to leave the table. He quickened his stride to catch up to her. “Hey!”
The girl finished putting her backpack on before looking up, recognizing the voice. She smiled. “Hey there.” She grabbed her phone from off the table. “I wish I could talk more but I have to head back to my dorm to finish packing before I leave campus this evening.”
Testuro mentally sighed, having a feeling that she was in fact leaving for the break today. “You’re fine. I mean,” he laughed, “If you want I can walk you back and we can talk on the way.” Testuro realized how cheesy and weird he idea was, but it was too late to back out now.
The girl giggled, sensing his awkwardness. “I’d like that actually.” She began walking. “Maybe now you can tell me your name.”
Testuro smiled, catching up and walking side by side with her. “I’m Testuro, and you?”
“(Y/N).” She placed her phone in her pocket after texting her roommate saying that she was on her way back. “How did your finals go?”
Testuro shrugged, placing a hand on the back of his neck. “Pretty good actually,” he paused briefly, “but I did have a hard time concentrating during some of them. You just mocha me crazy.”
(Y/N) stopped walking, making Testuro do the same. Part of him was afraid that he had overstepped a boundary of some sort, but he turned to see her holding back a grin. “I mean if you had me on your mind while you were taking your tests, that’s on you.” She laughed. “That was a good pun though. Maybe that means we’re meant to bean together.” She smiled cheekily, continuing to walk down the sidewalk towards her dorm building.
Testuro once again caught up to her. “I mean, if you’ll let me take you out on a date after the break, I would love to get to know you over the holidays.”
(Y/N) pulled out her phone again as she stopped in front of her building. “Mind if I have your number then?”
Testuro grinned, pulling out his phone as well. After exchanging numbers, he held his phone up to her. “Smile.”
(Y/N) did so, holding a peace sign by her cheek for good measure. She giggled, opening the camera app on her phone. “Alright, your turn.”
Testuro gave her a sly smile, much like the ones he would give Koutarou after beating him in a video game. “I’ll text you later tonight.”
“I look forward to it.”
With that, (Y/N) turned to walk into her building, causing Testuro to start heading back to his own; but he stopped and turned back around as she spoke up again.
“Don’t get caught up in a cold brew of a storm during your travels over break.” She laughed at his expression as he held back a grin and walked into her building, leaving Testuro to watch her walk through the lobby and to the elevator from outside.
“This girl’s seriously got me grounded.”
Tumblr media
Ficmas 2020 Masterlist
Send an ask if you like to be tagged in any of the fics!!
Want to see previews of the fics the day before they post? Follow my insta!
52 notes · View notes
horansqueen · 4 years ago
Text
Vote For My Next Story
I'll try to keep this short. YOU&ME has ended, and it was a big part of the last few years of my life (along with AM Conversations). It'll probably always be my favorite and best story but that doesnt mean i want to stop writing.
please, know that the oneshots ideas are independent from the story ideas, meaning that i can write a story AND oneshots at the same time so let me know if youre interested!
(click on the read more to read the 10 synopsis of the story ideas I’d like to write)
AM Conversations & YOU&ME ideas:
-oneshots ideas for what happened after the story, before the story, or even in-between chapters in the story. you can send me ANY idea that you would want to read between Liv and Niall or other characters.
-oneshots ideas for any "what if" you can think of (i.e. what if one of them didnt love the other, what if they hadnt seen each other at the bakery, what if Liv had dated Louis, etc)
NEW STORY IDEAS:
NOTES: 
all the ideas are AU. 
 #2 #8 and #9 will include a few of the 1D boys. 
despite the title, #4 is a Niall fic
titles may change
                                   VOTE HERE!!!!
you can also vote by messaging me.
in the form, theres a place for comments but you dont have to leave any
you also dont have to leave your name or anything
thank you if you vote, it means a lot to me!
ill keep this open for a while, until i get enough votes :)
1- UNPREDICTABLE
They haven't seen each other since high school and they hadn't missed each other at all. In fact, they never really could stand each other. Her, a bit of a rebel, listening to punk music, searching for trouble whenever she could... and him, the good boy, popular and loved by everyone, who could rarely be seen without his guitar. It's been a few years already but not many things had changed and they still didn't have anything in common... except one thing. Both of them aspired to become famous with their music. With a twist of fate, they end up in each other's lives again and if they can put aside their resentment for one another, maybe they could bring something incredibly precious to each other. But nothing has ever been uncertain.
This is the story of two opposite persons who share a burning passion that may slowly bring them closer... or make the hatred they already feel for each other even more intense.
2- D.N.A. (daddies now available)
The test was positive. I was pregnant. The problem was, I didn’t know who the father was. It could be my ex boyfriend Liam, his best friend Niall or my best friend Louis. Or maybe it could be that boy I randomly had sex with, Harry... I had no idea and I was not going to find out soon.¸
All I knew was I had to tell four boys that there was a possibility for them to be a daddy in less than a year. Can you just imagine their reaction?
Contrary to all expectations, they accepted their fates.. somehow. And no matter who his daddy was, “little human” was going to get a lot of attention from a lot of men. Exactly like me.
This is my pregnancy story. And it was just the beginning of a long journey.
3- MEANT TO BE
When they first met, Louis was all *MAIN GIRL* ever wanted. However, a decade later the high school sweethearts had change and she felt like most of the sparkles she once had were now gone. Then she met Niall and it clicked instantly and intensely and since then, they’ve been seeing each other in secret, lying to their whole entourage about the nature of their relationship. Feelings started to grow, things started to change, and maybe, just maybe, it’s meant to be. Or maybe not.
A tale of broken hearts, unforgettable love and many… way too many lies.
4- LIVING WITH LOUIS TOMLINSON
Call me Queen Catastrophe. I lost my job, my boyfriend, my best girl friend and my apartment on the same day. Just a little friday afternoon like all the others, right?
Thank god, my best friend Louis was there to save the day. Nothing unusual. I was supposed to crash at his apartment for one night and then walk on my pride and go back to my parents to admit how much of a failure I really am.
However, Louis had other plans : he wanted me to move in with him. That’s when my story really starts. Mutual feelings, drunken sex, grocery shopping, fights that end up with porcelain thrown around the kitchen (I’m an intense person, I know) but most of all, his best guy friend stealing his (our, now) couch at least 5 nights a week.
I despise Niall Horan with all my heart. Him and his stupid charm, his flirty smile and his hands that always ended up in places they shouldn’t. He was threatening to come between Louis and I. He was slowly taking more space in our apartment… and in my heart.
Fuck, I hate Niall Horan with a passion.
5- FOR YOUR LOVE
After months of trying to get pregnant, Niall and his long-time girlfriend found out she was sterile. The news obviously shook their relationship and sparked a few arguments but after a long discussion, they found only one solution : hire a surrogate mother. As days go by, Niall's relationship gets harder and harder to save, and his connection with the surrogate mother of his child becomes tighter. Soon, he gets caught in feelings he can't explain and definitely can't understand. But life is not as easy as just following your feelings.
A story of unsettling feelings, confusing relationships, a deep and strong connection but mostly, decisions impossible to make. Can this really end well?
6- DATING FOR DUMMIES
*MAIN GIRL* has tried blind dates, dating apps, and speed dating to find her soulmate with no good result. Niall has tried pretty much the same without much more success. With all the bizarre, creepy and incompatible persons they meet, they're so close to give up on love until they meet each other through a friend. After a bottle of wine and a long discussion, they start thinking that maybe they were the problem, and that they're too dumb for dating. That's when they decide to make a list of what they individually want and need on a first date and finally decide to try it together. Unfortunately, things rarely go as planned and they will both realize that feelings can't be controlled.
When all else fails, the solution will always be to follow your heart.
7- THE BREAK-UP PLAN
*MAIN GIRL* and Niall's relationship had started when they had barely entered their teenager years. Now, over 10 years later, they feel like something is missing. They didn't know anything else besides each other and it had to change. They still planned on spending forever together but their lack of experiences and mistakes seemed to be an obstacle between them.
They agreed on  break that was not really a break. for six whole months, they would be able to do whatever they wanted to do with whoever they wanted to. Going to parties, leaving for a whole weekend with friends without giving any news, dating and even screwing whoever they wanted, nothing was out of reach.
They only had one rule : honesty. Every friday night, they'd meet and spend the whole night together, talking, making out or just cuddling until they'd fall asleep, to make sure their love was preserved.
Unfortunately, things rarely go as planned and seeing the person you love the most in the world be happy without you is something almost impossible to accept.
A story about angry tears, painful jealousy, sweet sweet revenge and realizing who your real soulmate is. Watch out, it's gonna hurt.
8- HOT MESS
*MAIN GIRL* has always been a bit of a rebel who didn't really care about much. She just enjoyed life the way she wanted to and never really paid attention to anything else. If she wanted something, she did everything she could to get it, no matter who she'd hurt in the process. After a few years away from her hometown, family and friends, she finally comes back to realize that a lot of things have changed. Jumping in her twin brother Liam's life without being invited, she's about to make a mess of everything he had made so much effort to build by flirting with every single one of his friends without any shame. She's not looking for a relationship, she's just looking to have some fun and break a few hearts... but perhaps, she's about to make a mess of her own heart.
Sometimes, you play the game and some other very rare times, the game plays you.
9- 15 Complicated Rules
I have no idea how I got into this mess but somehow, I ended up with 4 different fuck buddies. I thought I was going crazy until I made a strict schedule of the days and time I would see them, and wrote down a few rules I had to respect myself. A useful guide to manege my 4 fuck friends. Monday for my ex boyfriend, tuesday for my co-worker, wednesday for my old best friend and thursday for a family friend. It could work, right?
I've never been much of an organised person but I honestly thought I could make this work. Everything went as planned for a few months until I broke one rule after the other. That's when I knew I was in deep shit. These are my 15 complicated rules to have fuck buddies. And this is the story of my downfall and the incredible mess I put myself into. After all, rule 15 was 'Never Fall In Love' and I guess that's something I couldn't control, even if I wanted to.
10- DISCONNECTED
When *MAIN GIRL* switches college to finally follow her dreams, she was ready to face anything and everything that would come her way. After all, she had been through so much already, right? The problem was, she didn't expect to be stuck in a room with someone who gets on her last nerves because of a paperwork mistake. Despite trying to find an other place to live or spend her time talking to the administration, she had to face the fact that this situation wouldn't change for a few months. Niall knew how to piss her off and he clearly abused that superpower, doing anything and everything he can to annoy the most pretentious and stuck-up person he had ever met. Perhaps fate is having a good laugh, because they seem to get stuck together way more often than not, but it's not until they let down their defense that they will see who the other really is... if that ever happens.
Apparently, some people are in your life to teach you something and make you grow. Perhaps, if you take the time to listen to them and open up to them, your karmic soulmate can turn into your twin flame... or not.
11- NEW ANGEL
When *MAIN GIRL 1* breaks up with Niall, he takes it harder than he thought he would, realizing in the process all the feelings he had for her. After a few weeks locked by himself in his room, his friends take him out on a crazy night and he decides he needs someone else, if only to get over the girl he loves. That’s when he meets *MAIN GIRL 2* and bring her back home.  However, on the next morning, he realizes he doesn't want her to leave, and that despite the feelings he has for *main girl 1*, he could definitely develop something with *main girl 2*. Everything is going amazingly well for a few weeks until what Niall never thought would happen actually happens : *main girl 1* calls him to tell him she regrets leaving him. Now confused and stressed, Niall is going to have to make a choice between the girl he thought he'd spend his life with, and a girl he just met that makes his heart race. And he's going to get help on his journey from someone he would never have thought of.
A story about making choices, creating connections, messy hearts and confusing emotions.
(i have many ideas for this one but i dont want to give everything away!)
34 notes · View notes
whitmanpumpkin · 5 years ago
Text
falling for bill hader during your snl days would include...
Tumblr media
look, it started as this simple little thing about you and bill meeting during his snl days, and then it turned into this and i just...uhm. yeah. it’s not simple and short anymore. enjoy! (and i feel like it goes without being said, but he’s not married in this.)
your lengthy relationship with bill would start somewhere on snl. you were originally an assistant for lorne, which translated to fielding calls for him and ironing out an insanely busy schedule that made you anxious just to look at. oh, and he put you in charge of getting everything set up for wednesday night snl table reads.
the table read, a very “casual” affair made up of comedians and writers in hoodies and jeans, was never meant to be a big hoopla. somehow, though, that’s what it always turned into. before you knew it, there were seventy-plus people packed into this small room on the 17th floor on 30 rock and crowding around a table as the sketch reading for the first episode of season 31 began. with lorne sat next to the week’s host (would you believe – steve carrell), the reading commenced.
you were too busy fretting over making sure everyone was seated and engaged that you missed bill’s introduction. it was a quick “meet our new features,” and a glance over to him and andy sandberg. by the time you glanced over to them? everyone had moved on and were on to the next bit of business; seth myers was halfway into the first page of one of the possible cold open sketches.
it’s after the table read that seth introduces you. he could see how busy you were with making sure lorne had everything running smoothly, but seth was a nice enough guy to know that your week would go smoother if you had a clue who these guys were. so, you shake hands with andy and bill and smile at them before you’re running to catch up with lorne – who’s already halfway down the hall with steve carrell.
over the following months, you would catch glimpses of bill at various rehearsals and table reads, but never really had the time to think about him for more than a fleeting moment. snl was only one of the many things you had to keep an eye on while working for lorne.
okay, it was a really important one to you, the one you kept an eye on the most, but it was just another knot in the rope you had to pull on a daily basis. lorne demands excellence. you knew that from the moment you got the job as his assistant. it was the reason you had applied; if you started as an assistant to lorne, maybe there was a way to get into the dream job of an snl writer someday? and maybe there wasn’t, but at least there seemed to be a shot. but that had been close to two years ago, and while lorne was a nice enough boss, he probably had no clue about your aspirations.
so the months passed in a steady flow.
sometime after midnight on a particularly heavy tuesday/wednesday writing night, you’re leaving lorne’s office when you decide to stop in and see how the writers are doing on the 17th floor.
the season finale was this week, and the pressure was on to find the perfect sketches. as you entered seth’s office, you found him with his back on the ground and his legs against the door, holding a pencil in his teeth. bill sat in what was normally’s seth’s chair and listened to his buddy rattle on about some “baby hitler” sketch they could do.
you hand off their usual coffee and sit down in the corner, providing the    comfortable silence you were very much known for on set. bill’s starting to ramble about how the sketch won’t work, and seth’s just humming so bill knows someone is listening. hitting a wall never looked so depressing. but at least you could provide moral support, so you stick around while they work through the rest of the sketch.
and bill makes you laugh. seth does too, but something about bill’s own laugh never fails to send you into a bout of hysterics — especially when you’re exuasted.
it becomes a ritual for you to come in and stick around with them on those nights, and soon enough you were helping them with sketch ideas and jokes.
the first time bill laughs at one of your jokes, you have to fight a racing heart. it’s kind of impossible though, because he’s laughing so hard that he’s slapping his leg and you can’t help but join in — which only makes his worse.
the months pass.
before the end of the season, seth brings up the fact that one of the writers is leaving the show and a position is going to open up. he practically begs you to audition.
so, you do. and it’s a hot june day when you’re standing in front of lorne, more nervous than you’ve ever been. but the moment passes like a blur, and your friends like bill and seth are waiting for you afterwords with praises.
when you get the job as a writer a few days later, you can’t help yourself from crying. you manage to hold it in when lorne comes and tells you himself, but as soon as he leaves you to process the information -- your shaking hands are shooting a text to bill and telling him the good news (as though he didn’t already know from seth).
you two end up getting drinks, and he’s a little drunk as he tells you, “you know you deserve this so much. like you work your ass off.” and then his voice drops to a whisper and you barely hear him when he says “i know you don’t need me to tell you this, but i’m so proud of you, y/n.”
and your heart stops for just a second.
he gives you the goofiest, drunk smile before he turns back to the bartender and makes sure you get another special drink. you’re pretty sure you’re drunk off of something else.
over your first season, you find yourself starting out by writing one (maybe two) sketches a week. and it’s pretty easy to see what they have in common. although kristen is the first to point it out, she’s probably not the only one that knows.
when she poked the hornet’s nest over drinks a few weeks before chirstmas, you‘re quick to backtrack. “no, no.” you hiss at her. “it’s not like that. bill’s just really talented and he can play a lot of characters.” your heart is racing because what if she’s right? what if you do like him like that, and everyone knows now.
kristen rolled her eyes, and you never say anything else on the subject. it doesn’t stop you from writing more sketches and bill being cast as a lead. you get past christmas without any issue. hell, you even get through valentines day and st. patricks day without anymore issues. but then, the jokes start again.
it’s a few weeks away from the easter episode of your first season that you start to panic, because you’re pretty sure bill thinks something is up. so, you do the only rational thing you can — stop using him in sketches. cold turkey.
you’d actually managed to go a couple of weeks without using him in one of your sketches, which had increased to about two or three a week. you thought you were on a pretty good streak, but now easter had come around and seth thought it would be a good idea if the two of your wrote another vincent price holiday special.
when you bring the idea up to bill, he’s not quite sure if it would even work. “a easter special? you really think that could work?” he has that skeptical gleen in his eyes that was common when he pitched his own sketches, but you’d never seen it directed to one of yours. when you try and explain the absurdity of it, he’s still shooing it away. “i don’t know if you want to use me.”
“what are you talking about?” you asked, incrediously. “you’re our vincent price. you have to do it.”
bill hesitated for a second. “i thought you weren’t using me in sketches anymore.” and you swear that you hear a little bit of hurt in his voice, but fred armisen is calling your name before you have the chance to ask him about what he means.
you go on and help seth write the sketch that night, so it’s ready for the wednesday night table read. but bill doesn’t meet your eye when you and seth pitch it, but at least he goes with it and it gets a lot of laughs. lorne approves it and has his new assistant write it out on a note card to use for the lineup.
something’s not right. you can feel this horrid nagging in the pit of your stomach on thursday, which only gets worse when you send bill rewrites and he still won’t meet your eye. you try and talk to him for a few minutes, but he seems to cut off any conversation and you’re too tired of this to try anymore. so, you let him go and don’t know why you’re so close to crying when you shut yourself in to yours and seth’s office.
on friday, you’re starting to get worried.
it’s costume fittings for your sketches, which means you and seth are standing in front of bill in his vincent price costume while he avoids eye contact with you. you could do 24 hours, and even 48 hours without him talking to you. but this was getting to be too much to take, and you couldn’t keep pretending like everything was easy between you two.
when seth asks the costume designer about an addition for fred’s liberache, you pull bill to the side.
“what’s wrong?”
you have to ask. it’s not like you can just keep this charade going.
he tries to wave it away. “nothing. i’m fine.”
but then you’re fighting back because obviously it’s not, and you hate that he won’t talk to you. and he can see the pleading in your eyes. and he really hates himself because bill never wanted you to feel like this. and he just sighs. “it’s stupid.”
“what?”
“it’s really stupid.” he says, like it’s a warning. “i shouldn’t have said that thing about you wanting to use me. i just let my head get the idea that you didn’t like me anymore and didn’t want to put me in your sketches.”
and you’re kind of speechless for a second. you want to say a million different things to him; he looks like he wants to, too. you can only manage to get out, “bill, you know i adore you.”
and you don’t hear how his breath catches in his throat because (of course) seth is calling your name.
the rest of the day passes without another interaction with bill. you see him in the halls on a few occasions and he smiles brightly for you, but it’s not until the end of the night when you catch him waiting for you outside your office. you’d had to stick around and finish up some things with the other writers, so the fact bill waited around sent your heart racing.
leaning against your door, with his hands in his pockets, bill was like a beautiful and tired vision. “you want to go get some coffee downstairs?” he said.
you can’t tell him no.
so, ten minutes later he’s handing you your drink and trying to explain just how much he let his anxety overtake him. you knew it could get bad sometimes, but the thought had never crossed your mind as being the reason he wasn’t talking to you. you listened as he continued on about how much he likes your writing, and how he appreciated that you would keep putting him in your sketches (even though his anxiety wanted to keep him in the background). and “i know everyone jokes about you liking me, and that’s why you write sketches for me, but it wouldn’t matter even if that’s why you did. anyone should be happy to have one of your pieces.”
you feel like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t. he just lets his words resonate for a second, and for you to smile back at him, before he’s launching into a story about seth and one of the other writers from earlier this week.
the sketches go off great on saturday, like bill was sure they would, and when you get home somewhere close to 3am after the show, there’s a text waiting for you from bill.
[ See you @ monday’s pitch. You’re going to have another great we eek.]
and he’s right. the last few weeks for the year go off without a hitch. well, without anymore hitches than your used to for snl. as the season closes and the host says goodnight, bill’s the first to give you a big hug while the band plays everyone out. in fact, with his 6’1 stature, he practically lifts you off the ground.
there are the fifteen afterparties and the twenty goodbyes, but you’re finally heading home as you hail a taxi.
“you don’t mind if i share that, do you?” a voice asks from behind. when you turn, bill’s got his hands in his pockets and it’s as though he’s expecting you to tell him no. but how the hell can you do that?
when you two give your addresses and settle in, there’s the obligoutory chat about how you’re going to spend your summers. he was thinking of going back to l.a. you weren’t sure yet — which both of you already knew. but up until this point, bill didn’t follow up with the question, “well — there’s a room open at the place i’m staying in l.a.?”
and that?? well, we’ll leave that for another time.
309 notes · View notes
theastrophilearchitect · 4 years ago
Text
I started writing a book.
And I’m mad about it, because I just started this post, brought up a new tab and lost it because I didn’t save my draft.
Anyway. That’s a thing I did. Wow.
As of this moment, this post won’t be going up until April 19th, but I’m starting writing this at 10.30pm on Sunday, February 21st, 2021. I’ve done a lot in the last couple weeks, and I want to have some record of all I’ve accomplished without just letting most of it fade over the next two months.
I’ve always wanted to be an author. From when I was reading under my covers with a torch past bedtime, through the years I wanted to be an artist, through the years I wanted to be a lawyer. It’s always been there - no matter what primary career path I went down, I wanted to be an author. The last few years, I’ve been invested in becoming a biologist, and that dream really took a backseat.
In the start of this lockdown, my mental health went downhill, and some advice my therapist gave me was just to prioritise myself. It sounds simple enough, but, even in my free time, I’d been focusing on schoolwork - revising constantly for exams I’m still not sure are actually happening. (Boris Johnson is apparently making an announcement tomorrow about beginning to ease lockdown, but we’ll see) So, on Saturday, February 6th, I started an attempt to coalesce the ideas I had floating in my head into something tangible.
I’ve tried to write books countless times (not technically countless - I have all the documents on my laptop, so I could if I wanted to), but mostly, I’ve never gotten further than a couple bare plot points and some characters, maybe some ideas for subplots, before I’ve stagnated and given up.
Three times, I’ve finished a skeletal outline. Twice, I’ve started to go back over those outlines only to realise they made no sense or just seemed week, and simply not cared enough to fix it. Until now, I guess.
February 6th, 7th, and fast-forward to my week off beginning the 15th, up until the 19th, I kept developing this concept I’d managed to form, but I was struggling to establish a coherent plot. I had up until and including a midpoint (which was later condensed into just a first act), but everything after that was just a void. I began searching for some skeletal structure I could apply to it, both to work on pacing and fill in the blanks. I tried several, and got a little further, but was about to give up hope.
Then I remembered a video by Katytastic I’d watched years ago about the 3-act, 9-block, 27-chapter structure she used, and couldn’t see the harm in giving it a go. And something clicked.
You can find the video here - the structure’s detailed and easy to follow, plus she even gives an example of using it to generate a plot.
I started binge-watching her writing vlogs in the background, and even started using her same writing program, Scrivener, which just made every a thousand times easier by taking away the need to juggle a billion Word documents. It’s fairly pricey, but I’m currently using the 30-day free trial - it’s 30 days of use, not of ownership, too: if you use it every day, it lasts 30 days, but if you use it once a week, it lasts 30 weeks.
Where Kat used the 27 parts the structure broke down into as chapters, I chose to refer to them as beats, and separate chapters later.
On Saturday the 20th, I finished defining my scenes and started writing an actual draft. I wrote two scenes, putting me at a collective word count (not including notes, synopses, etc.) of 2,580 words.
This morning, Sunday the 21st, I started over. I hated my opening. I’m not going to go through the mess of today’s process, but I currently have around 80 one-line-outline scenes, split into 3 acts. I wrote a draft of my prologue and detailed-outlined (which I’m mentally referring to as zero-outlining because it’s similar to how Katytastic does what she calls a zero draft, but is very much outlining, not a draft) two and a half other chapters. Scriver also tells me how many words I wrote in total, across notes, character profiles, location lists, a document I’ve named ‘Train of Thought’ for my ramblings as I go etc.
Today, I wrote a grand total of 4,141 words, which, rather counterintuitively, puts me at a draft total of 2,598. That makes sense. Anyway.
There are a lot of unknowns in the world right now, and I have no idea how much time I’ll have in the next six months to invest in this project, but I’d like, at bare minimum, to have one complete draft by the start of the next school year in September, which gives me just over 6 months. Which is probably too much time to actually motivate myself, but that’s not the point.
A manuscript needs to have a minimum word count of 50K words to be considered a novel, so, even though my ultimate goal for this project is around 80K words, 50K is going to be my goal for this draft.
I’m being optimistic about sticking with this.
Tuesday 23/02/2021 - Word Count: 3,099 I wrote nothing yesterday; planning to focus writing solely on days off rather than work days, but last night, watching through the incredibly long queue of Alexa Donne writing videos, I came to the conclusion writing every day, even just a little, would be the best way to ensure I keep working on this, so I set myself a goal of just 500 words a day.
Wednesday 24/02/2021 - Word Count: 5,350 After doing a little bit of maths as to how long this outlining and draft would take me if I were to only write 500 words a day, I decided to boost that goal to 1,000. I got started around 1pm today, online school draining me so much I couldn’t face another two hours. I worked on and off until 6pm, and around 4.45pm, I finished outlining Act One!
Thursday 25/02/2021 - Word Count: 7,022 I continued my scene outlining into Act Two, but I hit a brick wall around the midpoint. I have to write chronologically - some people jump around, but I have to write linearly, or it feels like I’m trying to make something in a void. It just doesn’t work. I didn’t know how to get from one scene to the next - there were so many things I needed to establish to get there, but I didn’t want to backtrack. I decided to re-jig the whole thing, but, after dinner, I realised I didn’t have to, and instead, decided to just start a draft, conscious of the things I need to establish as I go.
Friday 26/02/2021 - Word Count: 8,208 Starting draft one, I rewrote the prologue I’d already written, technically putting me to my second draft of it, because I’d been thinking about it for days and just wanted to revisit it, and it was so much better. Then I moved on to chapter one, but decided I wanted to re-jig my chapters. While outlining, I’d split the whole book into only about twenty chapters, but decided to go for shorter ones for more effective divisions of the story. I got most of the way through the first scene of chapter one, but basically ran out of both time and motivation, since I hadn’t heavily outlined that scene. in total, I wrote over 2000 words today, but because I only increased the prologue word count by about 100 words, it didn’t do that much to the total count.
Saturday 27/02/2021 - Word Count: 11,050 I got some chores done Saturday morning and focused on finishing my book so I could include it in my February wrap-up, but I still had time to get some writing done around mid-day. My goal was just to hit 10K this weekend, but I though I could do it in one day. I wrote about 1,000 words before feeling a little word-drained, but took a break for lunch, got back to it and wrote 2,400 words. Though that only added a little over 2,000 to the word count, it took me to 10K! I’m 20% of the way to being able to call it a novel! We’re in quintuple digits!
And then eight hours later, I wrote another thousand words and got to 11K.
Sunday 28/02/2021 - Word Count: 13,722 I spent most of my Sunday morning writing, though it took me more than two hours to write about 1500 words, though it only added about 1100 to my count. I decided to set myself an overall and weekly deadlines to hold myself accountable. Due to the fact I don’t yet have a clue how many words this will work out as, I decided I wanted to have either a complete first draft or 100K words (which I doubt I’ll reach, but it seems like a good way to make myself finish the draft before my deadline) by the end of April. Which works out to a little under 1500 words a day, or just under 11K a week, which is perfectly doable. Bearing in mind my current word count is including outlines, but I still believe in myself.
I wrote another 1600 words later, which took me to 14K, until I deleted the 300 word outline I wrote for one scene, but I worked out my words per day for the next two months with the assumption of a 10K word count as of March 1st and a target of either a complete draft or 100K words by the end of April, so I’m nearly 4,000 words ahead of schedule. Which gives me 6,606 words to write this week, instead of 10,328. (If you couldn’t tell, I like numbers. They just make sense to me.
Monday 01/03/2021 - Word Count: 15,005 I didn’t quite hit my daily goal, but I was completely leached of motivation today, I’m ahead of schedule anyway and I was only under by less than 200 words. It’s alright. But, hey, we hit 15K! Two days after hitting 10K!
Tuesday 02/03/2021 - Word Count: 21,119 This was an insane writing day. My end-of-day target was only 16,480, and that was still ahead of schedule - if I was sticking to the 100K by April 30th, I’d only actually need to be at 12,950 today. This was the best writing day I’ve ever had. I wrote before school and during breaks, which kept both my writing and working momentum up.
I didn’t read a page of my current read, but I wrote a total of 7,681 words and increased my wordcount by 6,114 words, or literally an additional 40.75%. I hit 20K three days after hitting 10K, and am 42.238% of the way to being able to say I wrote a novel, be it a shitty first draft that won’t be complete at 50K words.
I also finished chapter three, which I’ve been working on for three days and came out ~5,000 words, and wrote chapters four and five in their entirety.
Note to self: this is day 10 of vaguely outline-drafting this project.
Wednesday 03/03/2021 - Word Count: 23,364 I've only written 490 words today, as of writing this update, but I just wanted to make note of the fact I've done some calculations, and can reasonably finish my draft this month. I'm still not completely sure how long it'll work out to be, so I can't quite work out my daily words to finish on the 31st, but if I stick to my current 1,475 words a day, I'll hit 63,894 words by the end of the month, which is a little less than I imagine this draft will be, but if I stick to that as a minimum, my first draft won't have to go into April.
I'd like to post this later this week, but I already have a post for this Friday, so God only knows how long this will be by the time it goes up. So far, I've written 1,900 words today, and I don't think I'm out of fuel yet, but I'm stopping because I need to read today, and I'd rather not burn out. I'm over my goal, anyway.
Oh, also, I'm nearly at 25K, which is halfway to a novel, but I haven't broken into Act Two yet, which means this book will be 75K minimum. I'm going to do some maths and work out how many words a day to hit 80K by March 31st. 2,030. That's doable. So I haven't read, but back to writing for like ten minutes.
I've now hit an additional 2,245 words for the day, though I wrote a total of 2,663
Thursday 04/03/2021 - Word Count: 25,415 I've decided to work out how many words I need to write each day to hit 80K by March 31st, and watch the fluctuations. (I like statistics). It should steadily go down throughout the month if I surpass it each day. Today's minimum word count is 2,023, already seven words less than yesterday's. How exciting.
The last scene of Act One was very heavy on world-building I haven't yet figured out, so I stuck what was meant to happen in brackets and just moved on, meaning I have now broken into Act Two!
I think, during the week, I'm going to focus on just meeting my minimum word count rather than exceeding it, just to save fuel for the weekends, when I can write so many more words.
And, we hit 25K! I'm halfway to a novel!
Friday 05/03/2021 - Word Count: 26,693 In complete honesty, I'm beginning to lose momentum. Maybe it's just today, but I don't really want to write and feel like I need a break, but I'm going to make myself write anyway. I'm going to make myself keep writing until this draft is done, however shitty it may end up. I really hate first drafts.
When you say 2,000 words is only 7-8 pages, it doesn't sound like that much to write per day but my god. Luckily, most of the stuff I've had to save to a Pinterest board called 'Writing Motivation' says if you write when you don't want to, it should pass instead of worsening. I wanted to hit 35K this weekend, but I'm not sure I'll have the momentum. I'll at least hit 31,270, though, which is my minimum goal for this week. I'm still over 700 words off my goal for today, but I'm taking a break because my head is foggy and there's still eight hours left in the day. Besides, 700 after dinner is easy. She says, realising she's probably jinxing it. Oh, well. 80K by March 31st would be difficult, even if I weren't going back to school soon, but that's a stretch goal. 100K by April 31st is my minimum, and I'm 9,000 ahead of where I need to be for that.
I think I’m stagnating because I’ve hit the ‘Fun and Games’ section, which I find really boring. I’m going to try to keep going with it, but I may just skip it and come back later.
Saturday 06/03/2021 - Word Count: 28,150 So, I did not get the extra 700 words in. Before dinner, some stuff I had to deal with came up, and by the time it was done, I just wanted to go to bed, so I did. Today, I'm going to try to make up for it, which I think is reasonable because it is now the weekend. I'm still kinda exhausted this morning, but I'm going to do my best, and my wrist hurts, but I'm not sure why. You'd think it would be from all the typing, but only one wrist hurts - you know what? Never mind. They do both hurt. I'm just not sure why, but it doesn't hurt typing this, so that doesn't make any sense. Anyway, to hit my word count for the day, I need to write 2,555 words, which doesn't sound like too much, but it kinda is because I'm primarily writing Act Two at the minute, and for every thousand words I write, I lose like 400 from my outline. You'd think I'd just not include my scene outlines in the word count, but it's too late for that now.
I'm thinking this over, and I really don't think trying to write 80K by the end of the month is going to be good for either my motivation, mental health, or ability to function back at school, so I'm going to stick to 100K or a finished draft by April 30th, and re-work out my goals from there, based on yesterday's word count, so I'm not making myself do catch-up today.
So, to hit 100K by April 30th, I only need to write 1,309 words each day (which will decrease over time because if that's my minimum now, I'll probably surpass it, decreasing the amount of words left etc.). That's so much less pressure.
God, I really don't want to write today. I just want to watch YouTube and Netflix and read.
Okay, so here's the thing. I've been working on this story straight for three weeks and I'm kinda exhausted of it. I'm not done with it, not at all, and I want to keep working on it because it exists, which makes it workable.
I watched a writing vlog by ShaelinWrites yesterday, and she said she writes different projects at once, alternating in week- or multi-week-long blocks. I think I might try that.
My plan with this post and the following updates was to keep updating it until the day it goes up, the day after which is when I begin drafting the next, but, since I may be switching projects for a while and this is really about the project I've decided to dub 'Bay Tree' (which is just, I guess, a pseudonym for here because while I have no idea what it would eventually be called, I know that's nothing like the title I'd want to give it) so I'd want to start a new post for a new project.
I'm now doing a little outlining instead of actually continuing writing, but I think this will help me, though I'm still not certain about whether or not I'm going to directly continue with this specific project for the minute. Instead of setting daily goals based on a target, I'm also just going to say 1,000 words a day, and see where that takes me.
I've just been outlining into Act Three, and I've met a major plot stumble, but I'm going to work that out and explain what I'm doing in my next writing update.
So, go drink some water, eat if you haven't eaten in the last few hours, stand in front of the mirror and tell yourself how wonderful you are and how much happiness you deserve, and, if you want to write a book, stop thinking about it, and go write.
3 notes · View notes
fromsolowithlove · 5 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
Rey is tired AF.
So is my brain from all the tangents it keeps running off on.
AKA whoops I wrote a fluffy one shot instead of updating my WIP.
In Need of Convincing ~3000 words. Rating: Teen & up? I mean...it’s fluff.
Rey loves her job as a kindergarten teacher but also loves being able to be an adult. Her nights and weekends are hers and Ben's, and she wants to keep it that way. After visiting her classroom, Ben has to disagree. He's got a case of baby fever and will do anything it takes to convince Rey to change her mind.
Read on AO3 or just expand here 👇🏽
Monday
     Rey stumbled into her classroom and threw her bags onto the floor. She picked up a stray crayon that she had nearly tripped over.  Suddenly, her phone buzzed.
     Grrr. Who’s bothering me right now? She looked down to see a new text message.
     Sweetheart...did you need this bag full of beads, clay, and kindling that says “IMPORTANT! DO NOT FORGET”?
     “SHIT,” she exclaimed. She knew she had forgotten something.
     Sorry. Yes… she responds.
     Rey sighed with relief when she read her husband’s response.
     When do you need it by? I have a meeting this morning but can be there right after lunch. Is that alright?
     Thank you so much! LOVE YOU. DON’T FORGET IT.
     The morning went by in a blur as it always did. Rey never got used to the feeling of being hit by the natural disaster that was five-year-olds. Now that they were back in from lunch, she could start her internal countdown for the day. She slumped herself into the corner of the room. It was the safest place to watch as the students argued over whose blue crayon was bluer.
     Suddenly, the door squeaked open. A tall man with hair like onyx walked in. In comparison with the kiddy-sized tables and chairs, he looked even more out of place than usual.
     “Mrs. Solo? Who’s that?” a student shouted.
     “My helper!” she said as her face lit up.
     Ben stood there awkwardly as a crowd began to form around him.
     "He’s really tall,” said a small girl with black pigtails. She turned to Ben. “Are you a tree? Or like...a basketball player?”
     “Definitely not,” Ben snorted.
     “What do we call you Mr. tall guy?”
     “Uhh...Mr. Ben will be fine,” Rey answered.
     “Mr. Ben! MR. BEN! MR. BEN!” The students started chanting his name and Ben blushed. He hadn’t even done anything. He could get used to this.
     “Mr. Ben. Why are you here?” asked Grayson.
     “Uhh...to make a special delivery to Mrs. Solo.”
     “Oooooh. What kind of stuff did you bring her?”
     “Is it a puppy?!” another student added.
     “It’s a puppy!” someone else copied.
     “No! It’s the guinea pig we asked for!” cried the one with pigtails.
     “Noooooo,” Rey dragged out. “You’ll see in just a bit. But we ARE very happy that Mr. Ben was able to stop by, aren’t we class?”
     “Yeah!”
     “Can you stay with us?” Dax asked.
     “Umm. I don’t think so. Mr. Ben actually has another job, which is VERY important. So he can’t -”
     Ben cut her off. “Yeah, I can stay,” he said.
     She raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure Mr. Ben? We’ve still got TWO hours of school left,” she warned.
     “I’m sure. That is if you don’t mind the help, Mrs. Solo?”
     “Oh. Trust me. We never turn down help in kindergarten.”
     The next two hours went by, and Ben had been relegated to helping distribute the beads and clay. By the end of the day, his fingers were tacky and half his head was braided, thanks to all the girls. Rey quickly snapped a photo to ensure she’d never forget how ridiculous he looked.
     Ben began cleaning the floor of stray materials. He watched his wife lovingly as she dismissed the students to their families.
     “Well. That was certainly quite the day,” she said.
     “It was. I don’t know how you do it.”
     “I don’t know. The same way you do your job. It’s teaching. I mean, it wipes me out and they’re  absolutely  crazy, but it’s what I love to do.”
     Ben smiled and walked over to kiss her forehead. “Let me cook dinner for you tonight. You deserve it.”
      They enjoyed a night together over their favorite combo of dill carrots & salmon. Most nights, Rey was home earlier and prepared their dinners by default. Ben,  however, was definitely the better cook between the two. They sat on the couch as Rey kept scrolling through the TV menu for something to watch.
     “Please don’t hate me, but can we watch The Real Housewives of Galactic City? I can’t do anything cerebral right now. I need something mindless, something  terribly  overacted.”
     “Anything you want,” Ben said.
     They sat on the couch, with Rey amused by the mess of a show she had chosen, and Ben amused by his happy-go-lucky wife. Rey reached for her wine glass and frowned when she was met by emptiness.
     She moved to get up, but Ben took it from her hands. He got up from the couch and headed to the kitchen. Upon returning, he dropped the biggest bomb in the most nonchalant manner. “ I think  we should start trying for kids.”
     “WHAT?” Rey whipped her head toward her husband, shock frozen on her face. “What made you think about THAT?”
     “Being in your classroom today.  I think it’s time.” he shrugged.
     “Are you kidding?! Were we even in the same classroom?! They’re monsters, Ben!”
     “You once called me that, too” he smirked.
     “It’s different! I don’t have to remind you not to put everything in your mouth!”
     “No, you don’t.  I think  you quite like it when I put everything in my mouth.”
     “Ben. This isn’t funny. I’m serious! I spend time with kids all day. I don’t think I could spend all night with a kid, too.”
     “It would be different.”
     “How, Ben?”
     “It would be ours.”
     “It would be a living, breathing child. Not an ‘it’. SEE! We’re definitely not ready.”
     “Will you at least think about it?”
     “Sure”, she resigned. “But, I”m not budging.”
  Tuesday
     The next day, Rey woke up and stumbled over to the kitchen island. Ben was there poring over his emails. He had already gone on his run, showered, and eaten. She hated him.
     He pushed a coffee and note in her direction without lifting his eyes from his laptop. She eyed it suspiciously.
Reason #1 why Rey & Ben should have a baby:
Because they love each other.
     “Wow, Ben. As sweet as this is - I haven't even had my coffee yet. Slow it down, big guy. Also, this is doing absolutely nothing to convince me. I know that you’ll love me no matter what.”
     “That’s true.”
     “Even if we don’t have a child.”
     “Also true.”
     “Case closed.”
 Wednesday
     The following morning, Ben left for his office early. Rey walked into the empty kitchen and yawned. A coffee tumbler with a bright orange sticky-note caught her eye.
Reason #2 why Rey & Ben should have a baby:
You have really good genes. And the world deserves to have them preserved.
     She pulled out her phone to text her husband. Flattery will get you nowhere, Ben.
      Reason #3 came later that night in the form of an email.
 Hello sweetheart,
     I’m stuck waiting for this conference call to end, but  just  thought you should know:
Reason #3 why Rey & Ben should have a baby:
Because you wouldn’t let us get a puppy.
      Rey pulled up their chat and considered whether he would get in trouble for being on his laptop while on a call. She figured he had emailed her first and took the risk.
R: We do have a puppy, his name is Chewie.
B: He’s a dog. Not a puppy.
R: And why would you want two of them?
B: I don’t. I want Chewie and a baby.
R: Your logic is lacking. Should I keep a plate warm for you?
B: Yes, please.
R: See you when you get home.
Friday Morning
     Thursday had gone by without Ben trying to convince Rey of their need to start a family. This was why Rey was shocked when he dropped an employee handbook on the bed before heading into the shower. It was flipped open to a highlighted section,  clearly meant for her attention. In the margins, he had scrawled a note. Reason #4 why Rey & Ben should have a baby: Ben would have to take paternity leave, which would mean more time at home together. Which Rey always complains about.
     She opened their bathroom door and peeked her head in. “Alright, Solo. You’re getting warmer. But I’m still a LONG way from saying yes.”
Friday Night
     That night, Rey put down her book and turned out her bedside light. She felt Ben snake his arms around her middle. He rubbed small circles against her stomach with his thumbs as she let out a soft moan. He leaned over and whispered into her ear.
     “Reason #5 why Rey and Ben should have a baby. The process of trying would be really fun.”
     She turned to face him,  barely able to make out his features in the dark. She slid her hands past his neck and into his dark locks. She pulled on his hair lightly, happy when he groaned in response. “What a cheap shot, Ben. You know my physical attraction to you is my weakness. But I do like where this is going. May I get a preview?”
     He didn’t need to be asked twice.
  Sunday Night
     Much of Saturday had gone by as an extended preview of just how fun trying to make a baby could be.  Ironically, that had left little time for Ben to convince Rey with more ideas. But after getting off the phone with Leia following their weekly call, he had a great idea.
     “Rey. Mom says hi. Also, I have one more reason to add to our list of why you should have a baby with me.”
     “Do your worst.”
     “My parents aren’t getting any younger. Don’t you want them to meet their grandchildren?”
     Rey punched him in his bicep. “OW!” he cried.
     “You  really  think guilt is  really  the best way to convince me?”
     “Well, the other ways weren’t working. And nothing I said was a lie…”
     “No. But now I’m just sad, Ben! And sad isn’t the proper emotional state for conceiving a child. TRY HARDER.”
Monday
     Rey sat in her classroom during lunch gnawing on a baby carrot. She had left her lunch at home and was forced to eat the cafeteria meal offered to the students. Still, food was food. Choosing to avoid the laughs, she brought the meal back to her classroom instead of eating in the lounge.
     Her phone buzzed. A photo loaded and she nearly dropped her phone from laughing so obnoxiously.
     There was her husband with a goofy smile across his face. She loved Ben's smile - she really did. But seeing it here when he tried so hard to hide it from others made the photo seem doctored. His expression simply didn’t match his crisp business wear or stark office. Also, a selfie was so not his style. Did he even know the term “selfie”? She read the text below the suspect photo.
Reason #7 why Rey & Ben should have a baby:
Because it would make Ben very very happy.
     She shoved another baby carrot in her mouth and began to type a response furiously.
     I told you to try harder, but instead, you’ve gone back to square one. The photo is lovely, but come on. Put that sharp Chief of Operations Officer mind to use. Make me a proposal I can’t refuse.
Tuesday
     Rey sprayed whipped cream into a mug for her nightly dessert. She raised a spoonful into her mouth as she watched Ben empty his pockets onto his nightstand. He pulled out a note and studied it until recognition washed over his face.
     The note was soon placed in front of Rey. Mouth still full of whipped cream, she opened it up. This wasn’t Ben’s handwriting, but it reeked of his intentions.
Reason #8 why Rey & Ben should have a baby:
Ben is dying.
     “WHAT IS THIS? BEN. YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS.”
     “If I were...would you want to have a baby with me?”
     “BEN.” She growled at him. If she weren’t so angry, he might’ve dared to laugh.
     “Ok, fine. You’re right. I’m not dying. I mean...in a way, we all are...but, not in the foreseeable future. But Poe and Hux said it was a good idea!”
     “AHA! THAT explains the handwriting. I’M GONNA KILL THEM BOTH! And then, I’m gonna come back and kill YOU.”
     He raised his hands in surrender and approached her like he would a rabid animal.
     “Truce?” he offered.
     “Pfft. You better sleep with one eye open, you snake.”
     She turned on her heel and placed her mug in the dishwasher before heading into their bedroom. When he didn’t follow her, she sent him a stare over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”
     “Getting ready to take the couch?”
     She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t give you permission to do that. I’m angry and I don’t like you right now, but I still love you. Now, come cuddle with me before I change my mind."
 Wednesday
     By the time Rey returned home from school, Ben was already on the couch curled up with a book.
     “You’re home early…” she started.
     “I had an afternoon meeting close to home so I  just didn’t go back to the office," he offered with a shrug.
     “Oh. That’s nice.”
     “It was.”
     Suspicious as it was, she had no energy left to try and further interrogate him. She walked over to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea and noticed a gift box on the table.
     “Is this for me?” she hesitated. It wasn’t her birthday, Valentine’s, or their anniversary. She began to panic that she had forgotten to get him something.
     “Yes and no.”
     “Should I open it?”
     “Your choice.”
     “Obviously  I’m going to, then.” After a childhood like hers, Rey had a primal reaction when it came to opening gifts. Truth be told, there could be nothing inside of the gift and she would still enjoy the act of opening it up.
     This box wasn't empty, though. She softly touched the leather of a baby-sized pilot jacket.
     “Oh,” she let out. Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
     “See. Not a gift for you, per se. But I do remember how much you wanted to be a pilot as a child. I was walking back to my car when I saw it and just couldn’t seem to walk away. I’m not saying we need it now. I learned my lesson last night. But  maybe  we can  just  stuff it in the back of the closet for someday?”
     Rey’s eyes welled up and she bit down on her lip to avoid saying something she’d regret.
  Thursday
     The next day, Rey sat at home groaning at her laptop.
     “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
     “I'm fine. It’s just that Maverick's dad emailed to pull out of chaperoning. Mav has a ‘doctor’s appointment’,” she emphasized with air quotes. “So, now I’ve got no male chaperones for our field trip tomorrow. It’s doable with the moms and grandmas coming. But now I’m down one adult and there’s no one to supervise the boys on bathroom trips.”
     “I can go.”
     “No. You have work.”
     “I’ll call out sick.”
     “Don’t do that. I’ll be fine.”
     “I never take sick days, Rey. I can afford to miss tomorrow.”
     “Why would you even want to come?”
     “Can’t a man  just  want to spend time with his wife?”
     “Sure, Ben. But I'm warning you, field-trip-Mrs.-Solo is NOT a pretty sight,” she grumbled.
 Friday Afternoon
     After counting off the students for the fifth time, Rey was certain they hadn't left anyone behind. She led the students and chaperones out from the aquarium and towards the park for lunch. The field trip went surprisingly well, so she made a deal with the class. They could play on the playground afterward if they ate their lunch quietly and kept the area clean.
     “Five more minutes til we start packing up!” she called out. When no one responded, she repeated herself in a shout. “FIVE MORE MINUTES UNTIL WE PACK UP! ANYONE WHO DOESN’T STOP PLAYING IN FIVE MINUTES WILL HAVE TO MISS THE NEXT FIELD TRIP!”
     “OKAY MRS. SOLO!” the kids cried in unison.
     Pleased with herself, Rey turned to watch Ben play with the kids on the playground. It was quite a sight. She hadn’t known Ben in his youth, but she knew he had spent a lot of it alone. And of course, the Kylo Ren she first met would’ve never been caught traipsing through a park. Cries of laughter fill the air as he spun a group of students on the merry-go-round disk. He was stronger than they were, which sent them round at a speed that was probably unsafe. The students giggled and held on for dear life.
     Rey noticed that Dax hadn't gotten off for the past several turns. She warned Ben to let him have a break. “Mr. Ben. You need to let Dax off. You’re gonna make him sick!”
     He looked back at her and shook his head. “Nah. He’s strong! Aren’t you, buddy?”
     “Yeah! Mr. Ben, you’re the best!” The boy began jumping up and down in excitement when his face suddenly paled.
     Dax lurched forward and covered Ben with the remains of his lunch.
     The playground went silent in horror. Rey ran over, ready to do damage control when she considered her husband’s former reputation as a hothead. To her surprise, Ben laughed. “Aren’t we a pair of messes?” she heard him say. Hand in hand, Ben took Dax to wash off at the water fountain. Rey stood there frozen.
     Once they got back to school, Rey handed her favorite chaperone a small hoodie. He looked down and saw, “Coruscant Cougars”.
     “Sorry, it’s all I’ve got. Might be a tight squeeze, but it has to be better than smelling like vomit?”
     He had to agree and said goodbye to the class as he left for the bathroom to change.
     Rey sighed as she waved goodbye to the last student. She let out a small shriek when she saw Ben on the floor, slightly hidden beneath a desk in her tiny hoodie.
     “What are you doing? And how did you get in here?”
     “I walked? You were talking with the after-school program teacher. Must have missed me.” He was distracted and she noticed he had something in his hand.
     “Again. What are you doing down there?”
     “I noticed that the kids kept knocking their knees on the desks so I’m going to raise these up real quick.”
     Her heart began to race and she felt her cheeks twitch as a small smile threatened to sneak out.
     “I’m ready, Ben.”
     “Yeah, okay. We can go home as soon as I tighten this last screw. I can’t have any of them getting crushed by my bad handiwork.”
     “No, Ben." Rey walked over and lowered herself to meet him on the floor. She leaned in to kiss him softly. "I’m. Ready. Let's have a baby.” 
35 notes · View notes
oddcoupler222 · 6 years ago
Note
I remember a while ago you had a prompt fill where Margaery ran a radio show and Sansa fell in love with her voice. Is it rude if I ask what happened to it? It was so good!
not rude! I took it down, to reshop it into a longer oneshot, perhaps, but i’m really preoccupied right now with editing TWW so… I’ll post it again! 
——
It wasn’t like Sansa was… in love with… a woman she’d never met - because that would be crazy. And if anything, Sansa was more than cautious when it came to her heart these days.
Maybe that was why crushing someone from a talk show was easy.
It might have also had something to do with the fact that Margaery was kind of perfect. Of course, Sansa didn’t know Margaery personally; she wasn’t crazy.
But Margaery always seemed to know what to say; she was hilarious, she was frank, she seemed to have all of the knowledge in the world and when she didn’t, she sure as hell still sounded confident.
She’d first stumbled upon her show when she’d moved to King’s Landing two years, blindly following her heart and her boyfriend Joffrey across the country. They’d had a big fight, one of their first actual fights that had scared Sansa, and when she’d been walking downtown to calm herself (because, in retrospect, living with Joffrey like that had been such a terrible idea) - feeling a bit lost and a lot lonely - she’d ended up sitting on a bench across from the King’s Landing Chronicles.
And fatefully, really, staring up at the billboard that had the picture of a woman’s smirk emblazoned with the words The Margaery Monologues.
She’d started listening later that night, and had been drawn right in.
There were Thursday night politics - where the show had begun four years ago, when it had begun as a political talk show of sorts. Until, that is, when Margaery had absolutely gone off on one of the candidates running for Prime Minister -
(“I’m sorry,” heaving sigh, “You know I pride myself on thoroughly discussing all of the issues from every angle. But are we all just going to fucking pretend he is even a viable candidate? My gods, I feel like I’m taking insanity pills every time I hear someone say his name as if it should be said anywhere other than a prison roll call.”)
- and instead of getting her fired, her twenty minute rant had been what had gotten her personality recognized and the show catapulted into it’s seedlings of prominence.
There were Margaery Morning segments - the once a week broadcast that Margaery did Monday mornings at 8, where she functioned mostly as an acerbic news anchor while simultaneously peppering in amusing stories and diatribes about morning commutes and coffee shops -
(“and I never want to hear a word against that little place on the corner of Fifth and Vine at the base of Aegon’s High Hill again. Their chai latte is amazing - also, sorry to the very cute girl who had to work behind the counter with the jackass this morning.”)
There were Guest Star Tuesdays, where Margaery featured a whole number of people in a mix of both conversational/interview tone. It could be politicians, it could be authors, it could be a handful of actors who had appeared, business owners. Sometimes it was members of Margaery’s own family or her friends. Whoever it was, it was always fun. It always felt like somehow, Sansa was a part of their conversation.
(she suspected that was just a quality Margaery had.)
There were Listener’s Choice segments on Wednesday, and those were her absolute favorites. The topics ranged all over the spectrum. From requesting personal stories about Margaery - which they always got, but even more so on Wednesdays - to relationship advice and anecdotes, to book/movie/show reviews… the sky was the limit.
(“So, everyone, after tonight’s terrifying discussion about the state of mostly hetero relationships, I’m going to leave you with this: if someone treats you poorly, you can always do better. Don’t stay with someone just because you’re worried about being alone.” a beat, lighter, joking tone, “And - this one for the ladies out there - if men are disappointing you, there’s always women,” quiet chuckling, “Okay, okay, before I keep going on, remember to send in questions, comments, and stories to be addressed on next Wednesday’s show. Until next time, darlings.”)
She didn’t know if it was pathetic to admit that some of Margaery’s commentary and advice about relationships were the things that had given her the courage to walk away from Joff when things had gotten really bad. Actually, truly, scarily bad.
(“I know it’s not always easy to walk away from a bad situation – and yes, if we all recall from my many tales, I’m not one who often indulges in relationships. But for Scared Without Support, you wrote here that you need that extra step to walk away: I’ll be that extra step. Don’t walk - run - from this asshole. With police protection, if necessary. I’d offer my own services there, too, but I’m afraid my virtues lay with beauty and brains rather than brawn.”)
It may be pathetic, but it was true.
… and okay, it might have also had something to do with the segment that aired at midnights on Fridays - Margaery After Dark - where she talked about all matters pertaining to sex.
That was a relatively new segment; it had been added only two months ago, and the when time she’d listened to the first segment, Sansa had realized after laying in bed with her earbuds in, listening to Margaery’s voice as she’d talked about sex - (sex toys, positions, funny stories, seductive stories. Tales about her own sexuality and experiences but most specifically, Margaery ending her show by expanding on what being with a woman was and how it felt and her favorite parts of being with women, her voice a notch lower than it usually was)
It wasn’t until it had ended that Sansa realized she’d laid shock still for an entire hour, that her heart was beating fast, her cheeks were flushed, and that between her legs… well, she was more than a little aroused.
She was doing better now than she had in years -
After leaving Joffrey six months ago, she’d stayed with Shae, the older but protective woman who’d worked with her at the library, who had offered to maim Joff several times. But she finally had her feet steadily under her.
And her own apartment, that she was able to pay for with her part-time work in the evenings at the library (that she would hopefully be able to quit soon) and the fact that some more prominent people had started hiring her for her side job - baking cakes, pies, tarts, cookies… all sorts of goods, from home - thanks in particular to Shae’s fiance who worked at the capitol building.
The only thing that was messing her up, really, was her gods damn neighbor. Her next door neighbor who seemed to operate at a completely different schedule than she did. And Sansa knew that waking up at 4 or 5 (it was usually perfectly timed for her to listen… or re-listen to Margaery’s show from the previous night) in the morning to get through her current baking orders was not typical, and she always did her best to keep her noise level down.
(there had been a few instances where she’d certain things or, the first time she’d flambe’d and hadn’t realized exactly how sensitive the smoke alarm was, so - well, that had been a process that she was sure her neighbor didn’t appreciate. but she tried)
Her neighbor had no such qualms - he/she/they, who knows, as Sansa hadn’t run into them even after over a month. But whomever they were often came in late. Late enough that Sansa was often in bed. Sometimes with what sounded like friends? Groups of people laughing and chatting. Music being played. Sometimes bringing decidedly loud female company (that was how she’d realized that their bedrooms shared a wall).
In fact, the only interaction they’d had was somewhat passive aggressive (Sansa had left a tray of cookies outside of her door her second week in, with a note, “Hi! I’m Sansa, your new neighbor in 12B. Sorry you weren’t around when I knocked, it would have been nice to meet you. So, I’m sorry this might sound rude/weird, but is there a chance you could possibly try to keep it down at night? I have early mornings for work. Enjoy the cookies!”) -
and in return she’d received an empty plate back, with a prettily scrawled note (decidedly feminine but she wasn’t making any assumptions), “Hello neighbor, the cookies were delicious. And I would personally appreciate it if your alarm clock didn’t go off so early and if there were no more fire alarms before dawn. I keep late nights (sometimes) for work. I’m sure we’ll cope. 12A.”
So. She’d done her best to keep quieter in the mornings, and she thought she heard a bit of a difference in her neighbor’s guests coming over less frequently, and the female company seemed to also be happening a bit less frequently (though there was a burst of laughter from the other side of the wall and a lot of shushing, the night after she’d left the note, which had somewhat made her feel mocked, but. Oh well).
She didn’t meet her neighbor until almost two months after moving in. Running late to do a consult for a client who wanted Sansa to potentially make a cake for a bachelorette party, and after that she would have to essentially run to her shift at the library, she’d left her apartment, clutching a batch of tester cupcakes in a carrier.
And slammed right into the woman leaving the adjacent door, the cupcakes falling to the ground, hearing her own, “No!” leave her before she could stop it.
She was already bemoaning her cupcakes, because she definitely did not have enough time to redo those! Before she turned to her neighbor, and she could only stare in horror at the way the cup of what seemed to be steaming hot black coffee streamed down the woman’s white blouse as her exclamation, “Gods damn it!” seemed to echo down the hall.
Her cheeks burned at the realization that she was just - staring at her chest, her very ample chest, as her shirt stuck to her like a second skin, and her stomach flipped, even as apologies started rolling off of her lips, “I’m - I’m so sorry. I’m so -”
Everything died on her lips, though, the moment her gaze climbed higher and higher and…
No, she wasn’t in love with a woman she’d never met, but she’d certainly looked at the icon for her podcast to recognize the quirk of soft looking lips (though in the icon they were smirking rather than decidedly scowling) -
It was as though she was having an out of body experience, really. Because she could hear the blood rushing through her ears, as she slowly tracked her eyes higher than that recognizable mouth…
And took in Margaery’s face for the first time. Margaery’s absolutely stunningly gorgeous face, and Sansa was just - frozen.
Until that voice snapped her out of it, “Of fucking course today of all days,” Margaery murmured, tugging at her shirt in agitation, voice just as smooth and alluring - even pissed - as it was over airwaves, before golden eyes snapped at her, “Hello? Are you okay?”
Her voice was short, now, clearly a snap, because Sansa had been standing there for almost a full minute not saying anything.
Her heart was in her throat though, her stomach dipping low and, “I - y-eah?” she barely managed to squeak out.
Margaery quirked an eyebrow at her like she was a moron (she knew she sounded like one, though) before she sighed, and checked her watch, before she rolled her eyes and shook her head, “I don’t have time for this. I have to go. Seven hells,” was muttered under her breath, before she took off down the hallway.
Margaery - Margaery - disappeared down the hall with a flourish of glossy, curled light brown hair and the linger of intoxicating perfume.
And Sansa was left standing there, with her cupcakes mushed down at her feet, also running late, her cheeks flushed, heart pounding and -
Well if she wasn’t positive that she’d had an actual crush on Margaery before, there was just no doubt about it now.
And if she really wasn’t sure about it then? She would have been later that night.
When, after returning home and changing into her pajamas, still somewhat reeling from her day, there was a knock on her door.
Where Margaery stood, with a bottle of wine and a small smile on her face, “Hello. I’m your neighbor, 12A, Margaery. It’s nice to meet you.”
That smile was almost dizzying to see in person - the voice was even more so.
“Uh, hi? Hi. Hello,” her eyes widened at herself, “I’m -”
“Sansa, yes - I remember the cookies,” her smile turns wry, “I wanted to apologize for earlier today,” she gestures to the wine, “If you’d like to have a glass  together.”
She clenched her hand around the doorknob, because her heart stopping and her mind screaming YES didn’t seem like the most conducive way to not scare her.
She had to clear her throat, “Um, I - you don’t owe me an apology,” is what came out. Really it was a loaded statement on her part - she owed a lot to Margaery, inadvertently. Not that the other woman knew it, but still, “I mean, I did ruin your shirt. And I’m sorry. Again.”
Margaery waved her hand, her eyes going warm in a way that Sansa - well she could have only imagined Margaery’s eyes looking like that for the last year, “Well, I also caused you to drop whatever creation you had in your carrier and I’m sure it was delicious. And unlike you, I didn’t have the good grace to apologize earlier because I was a bit of a bitch and in more than a bit of a hurry.” She quirked an eyebrow, “Besides, Thursday nights, I typically have my brother and best friend over for some drinks and a bit of catching up, but I was hoping you’d like to join me tonight?”
That was how Sansa found herself sitting with Margaery, on her own couch, pleasantly flushed from the wine, an hour later. They’d covered multiple topics from their original… issues (“I should also apologize while I’m here for my late nights. Though I stand by the fact that your early mornings can also be a killer,” she’d winked and Sansa was completely charmed, “But I think we’ve gotten a decent rhythm down in the last few weeks.” - and they had.),
to light conversation about how they’d found their respective apartments (and Margaery’s eyes were alight with sympathy when she’d tried to skate over the Joffrey topic), until they’d landed on jobs, and -
“I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re a baker; I truly ate all of your cookies myself within a few days,” Margaery sighed, almost dreamily. “I almost asked for more at one point when I was a bit stressed out, but I figured we didn’t have that rapport yet.”
“You can ask whenever you want,” slipped out, and she flushed, before she cleared her throat, “But I’m not a full time baker, yet. Just, a little home thing. One day, though.”
“I don’t doubt it,” she took another sip, before adding, “I host a little broadcast radio show of sorts, out of the Chronicle; I had a meeting with the executives earlier, which was why I was so - you know.”
This was where Sansa should have said, “Actually, sorry to be weird, but - I know. I listen to it,” or even, “Oh, that’s why you sound familiar, I’ve heard the show a couple of times.”
Instead, she blushed and gulped down her wine, before toying with the base of the glass, “Oh! Well, that’s, um, cool.”
Margaery gave her a smile and her stomach twisted so tightly she almost exploded.
Somehow, it became a thing.
Margaery started knocking on her door every Thursday - no longer ever really hosting her brother and friend, saying that they instituted a date night together - and she’d come in with a bottle of wine, and they’d talk. Way later than Sansa typically stayed awake, to be entirely honest. But it was like she couldn’t tear herself away.
… and sometimes she came over on Saturdays and sporadically throughout the week, too.
If she thought she’d liked Margaery just from hearing her on her show, her in person was so much more. Her smiles were bright and infectious, her laughter even more so. And it was so strange, because she was the same person she was in her podcast, but also - so much more.
She sometimes sat with her while she baked, or Sansa taught her how to make simple recipes, and Margaery looked incredibly adorable with a look of overt concentration as she got a bit of flour on her cheek.
Some nights, she would come over with her laptop and say she was doing “research” for work, and would murmur under her breath as she browsed the internet and made some notes for what Sansa could only presume was her next segment.
And they just… talked. About everything. Sansa told her about Joffrey for real and how she’d been in a terrible situation, stuck with him and terrified, and Margaery, with a fierce look in her eyes, wrapped her in a hug that Sansa could have melted into for probably her entire life. If anything, Sansa knows she’s truly, for real, in love with Margaery when Margaery’s next segment is an unplanned show on domestic abuse, complete with call-ins with a licensed therapist, and an impassioned, emotional speech.
Margaery told her about how close she’d been to her grandmother growing up and how she’d wanted to just make her proud, and that when she’d started her show it had been hard because it was really the first time she’d truly disappointed her -
(”I just don’t know if I want to fight to affect change if that means I’ll have to bite my tongue my entire life to do it,” she’d told her one night, voice softer than normal. And Sansa assured her probably too quickly, that her voice and opinions made her who she was and she desperately didn’t want her to change that).
The Margaery Monologues almost seemed like a double edged sword now. Because she felt guilty, almost, listening religiously - unable to stop herself - while Margaery had no idea.
(she felt very guilty, when, after a particularly in-depth and charged Margaery After Dark, she’d been unable to refrain to touching herself, listening to Margaery’s voice. She’d attempted to just sleep, but had tossed and turned, just hearing Margaery as she’d talked about what turned her on and - well, it had been a show based around female masturbation and Sansa ended up coming listening to Margaery talk about touching herself “Women are complicated, pleasing us takes practice. And most of that practice begins on ourselves.” And she’d paused after, heart pounding, when she’d realized that she was not quiet at all, and all she could do was hope that Margaery hadn’t yet gotten home and heard her)
But it was also almost better in a way, now that she knew Margaery as a person. Because Margaery as a person was so amazing and beautiful and even smarter, even funnier, even more witty, and charming and everything - that getting more of her through her show was just like an added bonus.
The worst part, really, worse than her guilt even was this -
“Yes, thank you for your nosy questions as we discuss relationship goals this Listener’s Choice Wednesday - I will end this segment by saying that I do indeed have my sights set on a very lovely woman.”
That comment came two months into their budding friendship. And it was almost like a punch in the stomach. The mentions of the mystery woman continued through the following weeks -
“She’s ridiculously gorgeous, like you would not even believe.”
“No, we aren’t together, but here I am like a pining fool. I’ve never been this kind of person before, and now - what the hell is wrong with me? Should I be asking you guys for advice now?” (that had actually lead to a great Listener’s Choice Wednesday in which Margaery had largely spoken to listeners comments and engaged with them through a life stream)
“For the first time in my life, I’m worried about making a move. Typically I would have no problem, even if she’s presumed straight. But there’s something about her that I just can’t stand the thought of scaring off.” (okay, and Margaery was just so - sweet? It hurt in good and bad ways).
Especially because Margaery never spoke about Dream Girl - the object of Margaery’s affection had developed a nickname last month - to her, to Sansa. She never brought home any women anymore, at least not that Sansa knew of. And she didn’t mention dates, but in fairness, Sansa didn’t really ask, either.
“For tonight’s After Dark segment, we’re going to discuss fantasies,” Margaery spoke smoothly, her voice sliding through Sansa even as her stomach seemed to tingle, and guilt guilt guilt but she couldn’t stop herself, especially when Margaery delved into aspects of her own fantasy -
“And when bringing up fantasies, personally? It’s impossible for me to not bring up voice. Ironically, I’ve actually never been something that overtly turned me on, but… Dream Girl,” a deep-throated sigh, “We all know she’s gorgeous - well I do, and you all know my thoughts - but it was her voice that just, pulled me in. A little deeper in tone, especially when she’s concentrating or being thoughtful, and it just clings to certain words in a way that can make me instantly wet.”
Desire and jealousy, and she couldn’t stop listening.
“Honestly, at this point, one of my fantasies is for her to tell me exactly what to do. I want to watch her and hear her tell me how to touch myself, for her to touch me and tell me exactly what she is thinking, feeling.”
Torture.
“And, gods, in such a twist of fate, I heard her while she was touching herself. It’s happened a few times. That voice, moaning and whimpering and - I guess that is the delicious torture of living next door and sharing a wall with the object of your affections.”
Everything stopped, her breathing was heavy, and - she could only stare at her ceiling. Hearing things, she must be -
“Truly, all I can say at this point is that my true fantasy is to go next door and make her make all of those sounds myself.”
Sansa yanked out her earbuds, breathing heavy. 
And she did the only thing she could think to do -
She found herself outside of where it all began: Margaery recorded inside of the Chronicle building. She was lucky Margaery had brought her by there a few weeks ago after they’d had lunch, because the security guard had remembered her and let her inside.
She was in her pajamas, with her hair looking rumpled as hell, she was sure, and she could only hear in her head all of the doubts (maybe somehow she’d dozed off and thought Margaery referred to her as Dream Girl? What if she’d misunderstood somehow?) but she was ignoring them because she couldn’t stop herself -
Especially when she tapped on the glass with her shaking fingers, and she saw Margaery cut herself off, surprise taking over her features, before she said something into her mic, before she opened the door -
“I listened to you,” she confessed, her head buzzing and she couldn’t let Margaery get a word out first, “Your show. For months. I - I’d just moved here, and I was so lonely and you made me feel not alone. And I liked you, I just - I liked you the whole time? But I couldn’t tell you that, when I realized we were neighbors because I didn’t want you to think I was some sort of crazy person?” Even though now she was showing up like a crazy person…
“And so I listened in secret and never told you every time we hung out, but I just I liked you so much. Then you - tonight - you said… what you said… about sharing a wall,” gods  she only just realized that meant Margaery had heard her touch herself - thinking about her, though she didn’t know that.
She didn’t know which one of them moaned when Margaery surged up, her hands sliding through Sansa’s hair to press their mouths together. All she knew was that it was the best she’d ever felt, and she didn’t know if her mouth would ever stop tingling like this.
Especially when Margaery pulled back just enough to whisper against her lips, “I’d say this ranks fairly high in the fantasy department, too.”
(when she listened to the show the next day, still dazed and amazed, and realized that Margaery hadn’t paused it when she’d appeared, she realized it was both of them who’d moaned)
186 notes · View notes
cyborgsquirrel · 4 years ago
Text
Sanctuary: Chapter 19
Pairing: Wolfstar
Summary: The epic tale of Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, from their first meeting until their happily ever after.
Link to Prologue
Link to All Chapters
Tuesday, 5th October 1971, 4:30 pm
Remus left the hospital wing and headed straight for Gryffindor tower. He was still a little sore from his transformation, but there was no way he was going to admit that to Madam Pomfrey. Knowing her, she would keep him in for an extra night, and he wanted to see his friends too much for that. He had information they needed to know. 
Before leaving, though, he had asked her about the mystery of his full-moon symptoms starting so much earlier than normal, and she had put it down to how much he was using his magic every day. It was nice to have an answer, but, on this occasion, he hoped she was wrong. If she was right, it meant three full days of pain every month instead of one. Although, when he really thought about it, he had to admit, if he were forced to choose between Hogwarts and less pain, he would choose Hogwarts. Even if it meant pain all day every day, he would choose Hogwarts.
He clambered through the portrait hole, dashed across the common room (as much as he could dash with his aching joints, other people would probably call it a meander), and up the stairs to the dorm.
He burst into the room with an excited, ‘Guys, I’ve figured it out!’ kicking the door closed behind him, crossing the room and dropping his bag on his bed.
‘Figured what out?’ James asked, leaping off his bed and jumping around, apparently caught up in the excitement.
‘Hello, Remus. And how are you feeling?’ Sirius asked from where he was lounging on his bed and writing in his journal.
Remus turned to face Sirius. ‘I’m all better now, thank you. Nothing to worry about.’ He turned back to James, who was still bouncing on his toes waiting for the news. ‘I’ve figured out how to make everyone burp bubbles.’
‘Yes!’ James punched the air. ‘You are the best researcher a team of magical mischief-makers could ever ask for! How do we do it?’
Remus smiled. He had been hoping the news would be sufficient distraction to keep them from asking questions about his hospital stay. It looked like it was working.
‘The belch powder uses delayed transfiguration, like on the robes the Marauder did. So all we have to do is add an extra layer and set it to be triggered two seconds after the first layer.’
‘And you know how to do that?’ Peter asked.
‘Yes, it’s really easy. I can show you.’
Sirius closed his journal and placed it gently on the bed next to him, stood up in a single, graceful movement and sauntered over to him. ‘Hmm,’ he said, looking Remus right in the eyes. ‘I think I know your secret.’
Remus’ blood went cold.
 -o-o-o-o-
 ‘Hmm, I think I know your secret.’
Remus’ face went white. Shit. That was an epically piss-poor choice of words. Sirius hurried to finish before Remus did something ridiculously stupid, like outing himself by shouting, “I’m not a werewolf.”
‘You’re the Hogwarts Marauder,’ he said, pointing at him.
‘What?’ James said.
Sirius turned to James to explain his theory. And to take the attention off of Remus, who seemed to be struggling to catch his breath. ‘He has regular access to the laundry,’ he said, ticking each point off on his fingers. ‘He has apparently used delayed transfiguration before because he knows it’s “easy.” And he somehow knows the Marauder used delayed transfiguration to do the robe trick. He is amazingly good at transfiguration, as if he’s had lots of extra practice. And I’m pretty sure he was lying when he said he’d never altered a spell before. Therefore, I conclude, he is the Marauder.’
James’ eyes went wide, and he turned to Remus. ‘Is he right? Are you the Marauder?’
Remus seemed to have regained control of his lungs and he nodded. ‘Yeah. You got me, Sirius. It was me.’
‘That is so bloody brilliant!’ James said, returning to bouncing like an over-excited squirrel. ‘We can all be The Marauders! It’s much easier to say than magical mischief-makers. Oh, I wish we’d known before the niffler hunt. We could have used it for our team name.’
‘Breathe, James,’ Sirius said, laughing.
‘That was awesome, Remus. I really liked the lion,’ Peter said.
‘Thanks, Pete. I can make you another one if you like?’
Peter grinned. ‘Yes, please!’
James suddenly stopped bouncing. ‘If we’re going to be a club, we need rules and stuff.’
Remus frowned. ‘We’re a club now?’
‘Hell yeah, we’re a club!’ Sirius said.
James ran over to his trunk and pulled out another brand new notebook with a beautiful red dragon-hide cover, before sitting at the head of his bed cross-legged and patting the mattress in front of him. ‘Come on.’
Sirius and Peter were quick to pile on, but Remus hesitated. Sirius shuffled further over to make more room for him. ‘Come on, mate. You’re safe with us.’
Remus climbed onto the bed with extreme caution, sitting himself right on the edge. He was in danger of falling off, but Sirius didn’t want to push him. The full moon was only last night. Speaking of which…
‘Oh, if this is our first club meeting, then we should have chocolate,’ he said, before climbing carefully off the bed and going to his trunk to fetch the extra-large box of chocolate frogs he’d ordered ready for today. Fancy expensive chocolates were delicious, but right now Remus needed quantity, not quality, and he figured he’d be willing to eat more if they were cheap ones.
Sirius plonked the box in the middle of James’ bed and climbed back on.
James raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Are we ready now?’ 
‘Not quite,’ Sirius said. He ripped the box open, took out four chocolate frogs, throwing one to each of them and ripping the fourth open, before taking a bite. ‘Now we’re ready.’
James chuckled and shook his head. Ignoring his chocolate frog, he placed the notebook on top of the box in the middle of the bed. ‘This book comes with a built-in notice-me-not charm. If we all channel our magic into it and then activate the charm, we’ll be the only ones who see it.’
Sirius frowned at James. ‘Are you telling me you’ve had a way to pass notes in class without being seen this whole time and you never said?’
James gaped at him. ‘I never even thought of that.’
‘Idiot,’ Sirius said, cuffing James around the back of the head.
James scowled at him but didn’t argue. ‘Yeah, alright. Get your wands out then.’
They all took out their wands and channelled their magic into the notebook before James activated the charm. He opened the notebook to the first page and wrote  “The Marauders” across the top, followed by their names in a list.
‘We need to pick roles,’ James said. ‘I’m the ideas man, and Remus is obviously Chief of Research. Sirius?’
Sirius grinned. ‘I’m the charm.’
‘Why exactly do we need charm?’
‘To charm our way out of detention, of course. Minnie loves me.’
‘Hmm. We’ll come back to you. Peter?’
Peter shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’m not really any good at anything.’
‘You’re great at potions. You’ve stopped me killing myself at least twice,’ Remus said.
‘And we’re all very grateful for that,’ Sirius said, nodding.
‘Chief Potioneer,’ James said, writing it down next to Peter’s name.
‘If Remus and Peter are both Chiefs, then we should be too,’ Sirius said. ‘You can be Chief Imaginator. And I’ll be Chief… Um.’
‘Artist?’ Remus suggested.
‘Excellent idea.’ James wrote both the titles next to their names and turned the page. He wrote Marauders Code along the top of the new page and looked back up.
‘Rules?’
Sirius grinned. ‘All feast days are Marauder celebrations and should be marked as such with Mischief.’
James pointed his quill at him. ‘Nice!’
‘All Marauder Mischief should be harmless and fun for everyone,’ Remus said before taking a large bite from his third chocolate frog. 
‘Unless we’re getting revenge,’ James said.
‘That’s not mischief,’ Remus said with a shrug. ‘It’s revenge.’
‘Good point.’ James wrote it down.
‘Marauders always keep each other’s secrets,’ Peter said.
‘But are not obligated to reveal their secrets before they’re ready,’ Sirius added quickly, making extra sure he wouldn’t look at Remus when he said it by reaching for another chocolate frog.
‘Rule, and amendment, accepted,’ James said.
‘Ooh, Marauders always come before girls,’ Sirius said.
James rolled his eyes. ‘Obviously.’ He wrote it down anyway.
‘A Marauder will always come to a fellow Marauder’s aid,’ Peter said.
‘That really goes without saying, doesn’t it?’ James said. ‘But I’ll write it down anyway.’
None of them could think of any other rules, so James put the notebook away, and they spent the rest of the evening stuffing their faces with chocolate and making more plans for Halloween. Remus was given a new research assignment, trying to find the recipe for the animation potion they had used before, and Sirius was delegated the task of drawing the most realistic picture of a bat he could manage. 
 -o-o-o-o-
 They didn’t find time to practise the mass delayed-transfiguration until Saturday. Remus had still been exhausted from the moon on Wednesday and spent the whole afternoon asleep, and it was far too much work to bother starting during a measly hour-long free period. Thursday evening, Remus and Sirius had Art Club, and Friday evening, they had all agreed they were too tired.
Remus sat his students down in a line on the floor and gave them each a bowl he’d borrowed from the kitchen that morning.
‘I want you to find your magical core and channel your magic into the bowl, just like we did with the notebook,’ he said.
He watched as they all placed their wand tips on their bowls and closed their eyes, and he knew it was working when the hairs on his arms stood on end. 
‘Good. Now’—he handed each of them a chocolate frog wrapper he had saved for the lesson—‘I want you to turn your wrapper pink.’
They frowned at him but did as they were told.
‘What was the point in that?’ James asked. ‘We’ve been able to do that for weeks.’
‘Because you have to do what you just did at the same time as channelling your magic and speaking the incantations for the delayed transfiguration, the timing charm and my combining spell.’
‘I thought you said it was easy,’ Sirius said.
Remus shrugged. ‘It is. You just have to focus.’
‘I can’t focus on that many things at once. I can barely focus on one thing.’
‘I found it easiest if you start channelling first, before focusing on your target and intent. Once you have your magic flowing, it’s fairly easy to turn your attention to something else while it continues in the background. We can work on adding the incantations when you get the hang of the first part.’
‘Okay,’ Sirius said, still sounding sceptical.
‘So, start channelling your magic. Once it’s flowing into the bowl, create your mental images of the pink wrapper and whatever colour you want to turn it. And if you think you’re ready, say the incantation for the delayed transfiguration.  Moratus Mutatio . You’ll need to channel for about twenty seconds to change the wrapper.’ 
‘Moratus Mutatio,’ they all repeated before beginning the task.
James was the first to open his eyes. He grinned at Remus but didn’t speak, obviously knowing better than to break his friends’ concentration. Peter was next. He looked around and seemed surprised to see Sirius was still trying. Looking at Remus, he raised his eyebrows, jerked his head towards Sirius and raised his fists in the air as if celebrating a victory. It took all of Remus’ self-control not to laugh. Sirius didn’t take much longer, opening his eyes about thirty seconds after Peter and glancing to the others. 
‘Dammit, I’m last,’ he said with a huff. 
‘It’s not a competition, Sirius,’ Remus said. 
‘Everything,’ Sirius said, ‘is a competition.’
Remus rolled his eyes. ‘If you say so. Let’s see if you all managed it, shall we? Drop your wrappers into your bowl.’
They did so and all three of them changed. James’ turned Gryffindor red, Peter’s turned white and Sirius’ turned blue with bright orange spots. 
‘No wonder you took longer,’ Remus said. ‘Why did you bother with spots?’
Sirius shrugged. ‘If you’re going to do something, might as well do it properly.’
Remus laughed. ‘Well, I guess if everything’s a competition you won this round. Ten points to Gryffindor.’
‘If only you  could  hand out points,’ James said. 
Remus was finding he quite enjoyed teaching. He got a thrill of excitement when they managed to achieve something under his guidance.
‘What’s next?’ Peter asked.
‘Next, you need to learn the timing charm. I tested it with defodio, but we probably shouldn’t damage anything in here. You all have the hang of Wingardium Leviosa, right?’ They all nodded, so Remus continued, ‘Great, I want you to cast the timing charm on your wrapper followed by wingardium leviosa. After you cast the levitation charm, you’ll need to move your wand in the path you want it to travel. The timing charm is  Statuto tempus.’
They all followed his instructions to the letter. Remus was a little surprised that James and Sirius were being so attentive. They never paid that much attention in class. But he supposed this was for fun, so it was far more important than class in their minds. 
Sirius and James succeeded on their first attempt. Peter took a few tries, but it was only a couple of minutes before his wrapper was floating around the room with James’ and Sirius’, seemingly of their own accord.
‘We have got to use this for Halloween. We can make the candles do a dance,’ James said.
‘That will take forever to set up,’ Remus said.
James rolled his eyes. ‘So? We can do it over a few nights if necessary.’
‘Alright, we’ll talk about that later. We’re on the last step now. Basically, do exactly what you did before but add the timing charm and my combination spell. The full incantation will be  Statuto tempus et magicae simulio moratus mutatio.’
‘Merlin’s ragged and pointy hat, that’s a lot to remember,’ Sirius said. ‘How in Godric’s name did you manage to do all that?’
Remus considered the question. He hadn’t really found it that difficult. But why was that?
‘I think it might be the meditation.’
Sirius frowned. ‘The what?’
‘It’s a muggle thing. My mum bought me a book about it a few months before we started school. It helps me control my temper, but it’s improved my focus too.’
Sirius looked interested. ‘I could use a little help with that too. How does it work?’ 
‘It’s a lot of breathing and visualising stuff in your mind. I could teach you?’ 
‘It’s a date,’ Sirius said, winking and making him blush. Again. Goddammit. He really needed to stop reacting like that. 
Sirius smirked at him.
They went over the incantation several times until they all had it memorised before they tried it. Remus told them to set their timing charm for eleven o’clock. An hour would be long enough for them to get it done, he thought.
James finished first, again, after thirty minutes of trying, Sirius came second this time, finishing ten minutes after James and beating Peter by a full five minutes. They sat in silence, waiting for him to open his eyes. Sirius kept pulling faces, trying to make them laugh until Remus scowled at him to make him stop.
They dropped their chocolate wrappers into their bowls, and while they waited to see if they had been successful, they returned to the discussion of the dancing candles. 
‘It could be dangerous,’ Remus said. ‘If someone got in the way, they could be burnt or even catch fire.’
‘That would be bad. We’d be expelled for sure,’ Peter said. 
‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ James said. ‘I think we need to add that to your Marauder role. Remus Lupin, Chief Researcher and Safety Monitor.’
Remus bowed. ‘I graciously accept.’
‘Excellent, I’ll write it in the book later. So, Maraudering Chief of Research and Safety, how do we do the dancing candles without hurting anyone?’
‘Hmm, some kind of shield charm around the candles? That would stop anyone getting hit by molten wax, too.’
Sirius frowned. ‘That sounds pretty advanced.’
Remus nodded. ‘The basic personal shield charm is a second-year spell, I think. But we wouldn’t need anything that powerful for this. It only needs to stop fire and solid objects, not magic. I’ll have a look next time I’m in the library.’
‘Which will probably be later today, right?’ Sirius asked, laughing.
Remus refused to be embarrassed by his dedication to schoolwork. They wouldn’t be able to understand why it meant so much to him, so he couldn’t blame them for finding his behaviour strange but he wouldn’t hide it. 
‘Probably,’ he agreed. ‘I want to look up some things for the cockatrice essay,’
When eleven o’clock came, all three wrappers changed colour. James’ was gold this time, Sirius had gone for purple and Peter’s was black.
‘Well done,’ Remus said. ‘I can’t believe you all got the hang of it so fast.’
Sirius winked at him. ‘You’re just an amazing teacher, Remus.’
‘That might be a part of it,’ Remus said, feeling his face heating up again. He was going to end up permanently red at this rate.
They practised a few more times, trying out more complex transfigurations and working their way up to creating bubbles. They took a break for lunch, and the other Marauders joined Remus in the kitchen, where Remus taught them the theory of turning a gas into a liquid, as they wouldn’t be covering it in class until November. Peter picked it up surprisingly quickly, and Remus wondered if it was the informal setting putting him more at ease. The classroom environment didn’t work for everyone. 
By two o’clock, they were all happily transfiguring pockets of air in the room into bubbles of various sizes, and the dormitory was filled with them.
‘I think you’re ready,’ Remus said, with a wide smile. 
James fetched the belch powder his dad had sent him, and they settled down to complete the mammoth task. They would need to channel for an hour to be sure there was enough magic in the bowls to work on each grain of powder. 
 -o-o-o-o-
 The following Tuesday, after lunch, Sirius was lounging on his bed in the dorm, chatting with James and Peter while they waited for their spells to activate. They had been practising the timed levitation charm for Halloween, and there were a number of items placed strategically around the room.
 ‘Only four more days until we find out what’s behind the locked door,’ Sirius said.
James was sitting up on his bed, tossing a balled up pair of socks back and forth across the room with Peter. ‘I know. I can’t wait. What do you reckon it is? I bet it's something awesome.’
‘This is Hogwarts, mate. It could literally be anything.’
They all looked over when the door burst open and an out of breath Remus rushed through it.
‘I’ve found the recipe!’ he said, collapsing on his bed.
James perked up. ‘For the animation potion? No way!’ 
Remus sat up. ‘Yes. I still don’t see how we can use it, though. We don’t want to ruin the feast by making the tables gallop off again.’
‘Give it to our Chief Potioneer. He’s going to see what he can do with it.’
Remus stood up and took three steps across the room towards Peter when all of a sudden various items around the room rose into the air and converged on him.
‘Oh shit! Remus, duck!’ Sirius cried.
Remus didn’t need telling twice. He dropped to the floor and rolled onto his back to watch as the quills, socks, screwed up balls of parchment, and potions bottles carried out an elaborate dance above his head.
He pointed at one particular item. ‘That quill is out of time with the others.’
Sirius threw his pillow at him. ‘Shut up, it was our first attempt.’
Remus arched his head back to look at him. ‘Really? Well, in that case, it’s very impressive. Well done.’
A couple of minutes later, it was safe for Remus to stand back up, and he handed the recipe he’d copied from the library book to Peter, who looked it over with a frown. 
‘This is pretty straightforward,’ he said after a couple of minutes. ‘If I substitute a couple of items and add in a targeting charm at the end, we can make it so it only animates the bats. We’ll need to add one of them to the potion so it knows what to target.’ He looked up from the parchment. ‘It’ll take two full days to brew though.’
‘We’ll have to do it in here over the weekend,’ Sirius said.
‘But what if they do a dorm check and catch us? We’d get in serious trouble for brewing in the dorm,’ Peter said.
‘If one of us stays in the room at all times, we can avoid dorm checks. The house-elves don’t come in if the room’s occupied,’ James said.
Remus looked at him. ‘How do you know that?’
James grinned. ‘My dad told me. He thought it was important information every boy should be aware of.’
Sirius laughed. ‘I kind of love your dad.’
‘Strange. I kind of love him too,’ James said with a chuckle. ‘He would adore you. You should come over in the summer holidays. All of you. We can have a Marauder sleepover or something.’
Yeah. That wasn’t going to happen, Sirius thought. No way his parents were going to let him out of the house that summer. 
‘I can practically see you thinking, Sirius. You can’t possibly believe your mother is daft enough to refuse an official invitation from House Potter? That would be social suicide.’
He was right. She’d be furious about it, of course, but she’d have no choice but to let him go. Sirius grinned. ‘It’ll be brilliant!’
‘Yeah, it will! Peter, you in?’ James said. 
‘Definitely. I’m sure my mum won’t mind.’
‘Remus?’
Sirius glanced over. Remus was biting his lip. He knew what the problem was; he wouldn’t be able to say yes unless he knew exactly what day it was going to be.
‘I’ll have to ask my mum. But I’d like to come if she lets me.’
Translation: I want to come, but only if it’s not a full moon.
Sirius decided then and there to make sure the get together happened when it wasn’t a full moon so Remus could be there. It wouldn’t be a Marauder sleepover without the original Marauder, after all.
 -o-o-o-o-
 Two days later, after Potions had ended, Remus waited for the rest of the students to clear out before making his way to the front of the class.
‘Excuse me, Professor. I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about the uses of dragon blood in potions?’ 
Slughorn looked up from the essay he was marking. ‘Of course, my boy. What is it you’d like to know?’
‘Well, I was thinking about its use in healing potions. Could it be mixed with dittany to make its effects stronger?’
Peter had told him to ask that. Apparently dittany and dragon’s blood were an explosive combination.
‘Oh, Merlin, no! That’s a terrible idea. Dragon’s blood is very volatile, and it dislikes dittany immensely. Don’t ever combine them.’
Remus nodded. ‘Understood, sir.’
‘Do you have an interest in potions?’
Remus shrugged. ‘It’s more an interest in healing, really. You may have noticed I’m not particularly adept with a cauldron.’
‘Well, you’ll need at least a little competency with potions to get into the healers’ program at St Mungos. But I may be able to help you with that. I have a few connections in the trainee intake department. Why don’t you come to my party this Saturday, and I’ll see what I can do for you? You’re friends with Black, Potter and Pettigrew aren’t you?’ 
Remus nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘Invite them along too. It starts at seven pm in the room next door to this one.’
‘I will, sir. Thank you.’
‘Not at all. Have a lovely evening, Mister Lupin.’
‘You too, sir’ Remus said, hurrying from the room and hoping he had kept Slughorn talking for long enough.
James, Sirius and Peter were waiting for him outside and gave him a thumbs up. They had got what they needed for the potion. Excellent.
 -o-o-o-o-  
 The Official Marauders Notebook
The Marauders
James Potter - Chief Imaginator and Lily Evans Stalker
Sirius Black - Chief Artist and Charmer of Teachers
Remus Lupin - Chief Researcher and Safety Monitor and Chocolate Eating Genius
Peter Pettigrew - Chief Potioneer and Master of Food Procurement
  The Marauders Code
- All feast days are Marauder celebrations and should be marked as such with Mischief
- All Marauder Mischief should be harmless and fun for everyone
- Marauders always keep each other’s secrets but are not obligated to reveal their secrets before they’re ready
- Marauders always come before girls
- A Marauder will always come to a fellow Marauders aid
- The Chief Imaginator is responsible for providing all Marauders with daily chocolate and must give compliments to them once every hour.
  6th October
The crossed-out sections were added in permanent ink at some point during the night when all NORMAL people were sleeping, and they do not count. The main suspect is one Sirius Black, who is giggling like a girl. - James Potter Chief Imaginator and Lily Evans Stalker.
  7th October
Sirius! Stop adding things to the Official Marauder Notebook or I’ll kick you out of the club! - James Potter Chief Imaginator and Lily Evans Stalker.
 8th October 1:23 am
James! Never! And I don’t giggle like a girl. My laugh is deep and manly. - Sirius Black Chief Artist and Charmer of Teachers.
 Monday 11th October 11:45 am
  Chief Imaginator to Chief Researcher, Gods Transfiguration theory is boring, have you had any luck finding that recipe yet?
No, I’m going to look tomorrow afternoon. And it’s not boring; it’s important. Especially if you want to be able to change, oh I don’t know, bubbles into bats? -  Chief Researcher and Safety Monitor.
You have to sign your messages so we know who it’s from. I did it for you this time. And you make a good point, I will try to pay attention. - Chief Imaginator
You know who it’s from, James. I passed it to you. And you’re not doing a very good job of paying attention. I saw you flicking bits of parchment at Snape. -  Chief Researcher and Safety Monitor.
They were drawings of his ugly nose. I think he appreciated them. Please sign your name. For me? - Chief Imaginator.
I will if you do your work - Remus
Fine! - Chief Imaginator.
 Thursday 14th October, 3:00 pm
 Remus, we need you to distract Slughorn after class. Can you talk to him about something? - James.
Sure, how long do you need? - Remus.
Long enough to sneak into his office and grab some ingredients. - James.
Ask him about mixing dragon’s blood and dittany, he’ll be horrified - Peter.
Why, what does it do? - Remus.
Let’s just say they’re an explosive combination - Peter.
Peter, you’re giving me ideas - Sirius.
Sirius, as Marauder Safety Monitor, I forbid you to blow up the school - Remus.
Remus, you spoil all my fun :( - Sirius.
Chapter 20
1 note · View note
thesweatzone · 5 years ago
Text
BACKSTORY and FITNESS PROGRAM
BACKSTORY:
I have always struggled with my weight. I was never overweight to a point where I would have troubles with my health but it did limit some of my abilities and it lowered my self-esteem. I was really overweight as a child but then my rapid growth caused me to look slimmer than before and I was only round. Basically I was and still pretty much am skinny fat.
About two years ago I decided I wanted to become skinnier, so I started working out more. I realized now that being skinny is far from my goal and I truly want to be healthy and have a strong body but working out did give me solid foundation on which I explored my interests in sports, which I never liked before. I found the ones I actually enjoyed and the ones I did not enjoy quite that much. I started losing some fat. But then I became lazy and the fat came back.
This repeated itself many times throughout those two years. I slowly realized my biggest problem were my eating habits. I was really picky when it came to food and I always chose the wrong one. I also binged, then ate very little for a while and binged again. I even contributed to the weight gain with drinking smaller amounts of water than I should have and my sleeping schedule was all over the place. I realized only working out won't do that much. At least not for me.
I slowly started incorporating better foods into my diet and changing up my lifestyle but I never committed enough to see it through until the end and obtain obvious results. I was also very confused where and how to start, because there is so much information out there about what is right and wrong. The main problem was that I didn't give any program I created for myself time so that I could actually see results and see if it works.
 RIGHT NOW:
Now I want to stick to my plan for longer than one or two months at a time. I want to achieve results that will last and work on my confidence too. I am currently 173 cm tall (which is roughly 5,8 feet) and I weigh 65 kg (roughly 143 pounds). Though I am tall I feel like I am quite heavy since I do not have that much muscle mass so the lbs are higher than I wish they would be, because of fat. I have stubborn belly fat while I'm not really visibly round in any other areas of my body as much. Of course you cannot spot reduce (I will write about that in one of my future posts too) so I will have to lower my body fat percentage and gain a lot of muscle mass in general to see the belly fat disappearing too, since I am striving for a stronger not skinnier body.
Right now I'm in a good place, though I still have many things to focus on to perfect my daily routine. I've been working since the start of the year (6th January, 2020) and lost 4,5kg (roughly 10 pounds) in five weeks. I constructed a workout and diet plan for me as well as I could, since I haven't got that much control over a lot of things going on in my life because I'm still in school and have work to focus on besides my fitness goals, though I am trying to make them a bigger priority in my life.
Some people said that this program seemed a bit challenging for a beginner when they took a first look at it. That's why I wrote a short paragraph in which I spoke about my work out habits above. They are not that bad and I tend to work out quite a lot so I’m not in such a bad shape - food will be a bigger issue for me. If the program seems though for you and you do your workouts completely differently, I encourage you to continue doing it your way. The same goes for if you think it is too easy. I designed this the way I did, because I know what I am capable of right now and what I would like to be capable of in the future.
 MY PROGRAM:
Duration: 8 months (until the end of August)
Goal: Build strength and muscle mass, achieve a flatter belly and leaner physique, gain confidence, build better habits
 Workouts:
I've tried many workouts on the internet already and I decided to follow some good fitness channels on Youtube and follow their work out videos, since I don’t have time to go to an actual gym. I will link them in some future posts. I made a weekly workout schedule too.
On Mondays I do half an hour to an hour of yoga targeting my core (abs), on Tuesdays I do body weight exercises targeting the legs and the glutes, on Wednesday I have another day of body weight exercises targeting the abs and on Fridays I have weightlifting to strengthen my arms and back.
I also have one active rest day every week when I am allowed to do nothing or just some light cardio. That is Thursday for me, because I arrive home late (around 7 p.m.) and it's the day that is the most tiring for me in the whole week.
On weekends I have one scheduled full body workout on Saturdays. I usually do pilates or some HIIT workouts. On Sundays I can take a day of if I feel like it, because I don't want to push myself over the edge but if I feel alright I do an hour of cardio.
Speaking of cardio, it is one of my favourite workout categories because I love to run, dance, hike, swim… and these are all workouts that fall into the category. I try to do cardio at least three times a week even if it isn’t scheduled (just because I actually enjoy doing it) but if the weather is nice I take a walk everyday anyway, since I like some peace to think and be alone.
Through the week I work out at around 6 p.m. and on the weekends in the morning or at least before noon.
 Dieting:
For me it is really hard to meal prep since I am in high school and I have a lot of my meals prepared for me by other people. I evaluated my eating habits and realized I consume too much sugar and carbs and my diet lacks fiber. I can’t completely follow a low-carb diet but I will be aiming towards consuming less carbs and try to eat food which is low in sugar and high in protein and fiber.
I also challenged myself to eliminate all sugar I could from my diet for at least 40 days but I can happily say that I'm already on day 45 (I started on the 6th of January) – I decided to just continue with it and try to reach 70 days. I planned it for a long time and I can say I am quite satisfied with the outcome. I've tried including a lot of healthy foods, vegetables and high protein foods and minimize foods with a lot of carbs but there are days when I just don't have the option to eat anything but something high in carbs or not as healthy as I would wish it would be. 
If you want to, I will definitely write a post about what I eat in a week after I test it out, see how effective it is and perfect it completely. 
I have already tried intermittent fasting (will be explained in future posts) in the past once and it worked miracles for me. I felt more energized, way less bloated and I felt better in general. I will incorporate it into my diet again I decided to do a 16:8 ratio – I eat in a time frame of 8 hours. That equals 16 hours of fasting where I don't consume any food I just drink a cup of green tea in the morning.
 Drink:
I used to drink very small amounts of water throughout the day but I carry my water bottle with me everywhere I go now and I try to drink as much as possible. These are my main rules for drinking:
-drink 2 water bottles of water a day
-one cup of green tea in the morning (or lemonade)
-don't drink milk in the evening
 Sleep:
I try to go to sleep before 11 pm and get up around 6 or 7 am. For me it is pretty hard, because I am a night owl, but I do try, since I see a big difference in my energy and ability to work efficiently throughout the day.
That is how I designed my workout and diet program. All details will be specified in further chapters since it is still a bit rough around the edges (especially the diet part), but I cannot meal prep since it is really hard for me to prepare my own food. 
I thought I should explain what and how I'm doing everything, since I will be writing about it. This is a basic overview and I didn't really go into detail. If you want me to be more precise, especially about my eating habits and how I'm trying to change them, I will make a post about it. This is just my story and my program. I can't guarantee any of these things would work for you or your body but maybe you will get any idea or find some useful information. You now know my story and my goals.
I always struggled with my self-esteem and body image but I am on the path to changing everything and I want to share the lessons I'm learning and my story with you. I hope it motivates you and you can see you are not alone. You should also remember that even though my measurements and fitness goals don't match yours and you maybe see different numbers than me, you aren't working any less hard or doing anything wrong nor should you be discouraged. We are all on our individual journeys and you have the exact same chance of reaching your goals as I do or anyone else reading this blog.
Whenever I start doubting myself I just avert my thoughts somewhere else because I am positive we all can do this. Remember to love yourself no matter your weight. We are all beautiful and what we are doing and the changes we're making are only to better ourselves physically and mentally but our weight or appearance doesn't define us nor does it define our worth.
Thank you for joining me on this journey!
-M
Tumblr media
6 notes · View notes
andrea-c4c · 5 years ago
Text
Week 20: Learn& Test& Build& Repeat
 Nov 4-8, 2019
Monday
The team was a bit slow to reconvene on Monday after a weekend together at CANUX. We did a NextGENTravel team-wide retrospective on last week’s Design Sprint. 
Tumblr media
Tuesday
Tuesday officially kicked off the FWD50 conference here in Ottawa. 
According to the organizers, FWD50 is “more than an event. It’s a conversation between public and private sector about what we can be when we steer progress towards our better selves.” This three-day event featured a variety of speakers talking about digital transformation, particularly in the public sector. 
Tumblr media
A sampling of Tuesday sessions topics included:
Governing From The Edges: Digital Change, Inclusion And Impact In British Columbia
The Good, The Bad And The Ugly Of Government Of Canada Innovation Work
Technology, Trust And Talent For The Digital Age
Exploring Next Generation Citizen Experience
But for all the innovators onstage at Aberdeen Pavilion, we were most excited about what was queued up that evening at the Orange Art Gallery. Three of the four current Code for Canada cohorts presented project updates at a loosely-affiliated offsite Open House. 
Tumblr media
 Working on the relatively short presentation (10ish minutes) was a great exercise for the team. What did we want to leave the audience with? We reflected on some of the powerful presentations we’d seen in the past, and tried to bring the audience on a journey (and not just b/c our challenge is travel-related). Giving presentations can sometimes be daunting, but this was a great opportunity to talk about our work in a safe, supportive environment. As we talked of some of the existing challenges travellers face, there were so many nodding faces in the crowd! It was a great reminder that the work we’re doing can really impact people’s abilities to do their work. 
Also, Mike decided to step up our presentation style with coordinated t-shirts, which were a big hit! More than one person asked us where they were from, so if this whole tech thing doesn’t work out post-fellowship, we may have a new business idea to pursue 😎
Tumblr media
Wednesday
With Tuesday night’s presentation behind us, we were able to settle in and focus a bit more on the conference itself. 
The day kicked off with CDS’ Aaron Snow talking about The Art of the Possible. I basically retweeted the entire presentation :-)  Later we got a chance to sit in on David Eaves’ session about Digital Transformation Strategies from across the world. As part of our Code for Canada onboarding, we’d had the chance to spend a day with David, so we were familiar with his rapid-fire presentation style. I still think I only really comprehend a portion of his material, but it keeps me thinking for a long time after. 
I was really inspired by the presentations by Shu Yang Lin about the civic tech community in Taiwan, and blogged more extensively about it over on my medium blog: What can we learn from the civic tech community in Taiwan about public discourse and engagement?
Some of Wednesday’s great sessions included: 
The PIA Review
Prototyping Future Democracy
Open Data For Justice: Tracking Down NYC's Worst Slumlords
Policy Making For Nobody
Digital Transformation Strategies from Around the World
Thursday
Things were a bit slower on Thursday morning for some of us. After the Code for Canada-hosted breakfast meetup, we gaggle of fellows and Code for Canada staff gathered and chatted on some of the comfortable couches around the space. 
This was definitely the type of conference where you could see folks who didn’t attend any of the informational sessions, and just used the time to connect with other government innovators. Our track jackets made us noticeable in the crowd, and let us finally connect with some #GCDigital folks we only know off Twitter. (Hi Rob!)
Tumblr media
A  few of the sessions I managed to jump into were Failing FWD: Lessons In Building Digital Teams And Products with the Ontario Digital service team, and Digital Disruption: Fundamentals, Business, & Execution with CIOs from three departments within the federal government. 
Tumblr media
The MC for this session was Sagar from Code for Canada, and he pointed out that each of the three departments (PSC, PSPC and TC) have each hosted fellowship teams in the past. Coincidence? 
The CIO session was pretty interesting, to see the leaders of these different departments at different stages along the journey. It was a nice wrap-up and reminder of the week: there’s a lot of ‘best practices’ being circulated and shared, but the gap between theory and practice can be huge. 
Friday
Even though FWD50 officially wrapped up on Thursday, we managed to wrangle an invite to a “Rules as Code” working group session at the Canada School of Public Service. The speaker, Pia Andrews, participated in many sessions throughout the conference, and this was a relatively smaller audience as she went over some high-level topics and then answered open questions. Mike happened to pick the seat immediately next to Pia, and then the two Aussies chatted a bit after the session was over. Mike told her that he’d connected with the Code for Australia team that’d worked on Rules as Code, and it turns out it had been Pia who’d brought that team in.  I suppose it is a small world! (Mike wrote about Rules as Code a few months ago)
Tumblr media
Then in the afternoon we fellows congregated for a retro and offsite. It’s been a busy few weeks, and we wanted to recalibrate on how we were feeling about our team and our project. We really do get along well, and I value my teammates. It’s somewhat hard to believe that we’ve known each other for less than 6 months. There is a lot of mutual respect and care. I consider myself very fortunate to have Mike and Maddy on my team ❤️
3 notes · View notes
makeupbychio · 6 years ago
Text
Lost & Found // Prologue.
Tumblr media
*picture not mine*
Lost & Found ✨
pairing : Calum Hood x foreign female oc.
warnings : mention of drunk people, i think(?).
word count : 998
summary : she’s a dancer with a normal life in her country located at the end of the world, who would believe that even this things happens far away? that’s where calum and she were found but people could be lost and found multiple times.
notes : hi babies so i’m writing this serie because i have in mind a lot of ideas and i’m trying this writing thing hehe so i hope you like it, i know that is a foreign female oc and i still wrote everything in english (and just a few word in spanish) lol but you got the point.
Some of the events are based on my or other people experiences so it’s good to write them to get them off my head and i’m gonna change the time of some events.
Enjoy and as english is not my first language and it’s my first fic feel more than welcome to talk to me about opinions, suggestions, ideas, etc. thank you , love you xx. 💖
fic serie is inspired by Lost & Found by Jorja Smith (listen to the song in the link to understand/enjoy the prologue and chapter 1 next)
I never thought I would ever find
Something so assured but so fine (but so fine)
I'd fantasize that you'd come around
Focus and your dreams turn to reality
...
Present Day
Her boyfriend just arrived home, “babe, i’m home! i got a surprise for you” he says with a lot of excitement on his voice.
“i’m upstairs!” she says running to clean up everything on the bathroom before he enters the room.
He appears on the bedroom saying hi to his girlfriend with a kiss.
“what is the surprise? i can feel the excitement” she says with a flirty voice trying to hide the fear to him.
“i just got tickets for a concert tonight” he says moving his eyebrows.
She saw the name of the artist printed on the tickets and says to him “wow” because she was not expecting to see that name.
3 years ago
“thank you so much Santiago, I'm not quite sure why me and Luke are hugging..🇨🇱” puts Michael on his caption with the picture
...
It’s a windy friday night, the wind was usual in september in Chile, that means that the holidays for the massive celebration for the independence of Chile are coming like around the corner, but with the climate change and how her country is, for Rosie it wasn’t surprised if in a couple hours the wind disappears and it’s hot.
Today her work shift was at night, she has to stay until the closing of the place, yes, a friday night when a lot of people go to the bar but she could not complain because she just works on wednesdays, thursdays and fridays because from monday to wednesday she studies and because saturdays and sundays it’s the turn of her other workmates that just can work those days, like the full time that it’s called.
Also she has good live music every night from a band called “Los Dominós”, they play traditional chilean folk music where the lyrics tell stories of canteens, life in the countryside, seductive stories and things of Chile.But some nights the band play other types of music of South America (like tango and samba, tango was the owner of the place’s favorite),Central America and the Caribbean (like salsa) that brings together several people to the dance floor every night and also you can drink and/or eat something.
Rosie loves the atmosphere and energy that is formed in the bar every night.
Has she had to deal with drunk people and fights? yes, but thanks to the universe she is not alone and she has the best workmate ever,Theo.
The bar “El periodista” she describes as bohemian and set with a vibe like Seb’s club from the movie La La Land but with more warm lights and a lot of pictures that makes the place 100% latin with legendary artists and defenders of human rights from the past.
Despite being only 20 years old (with a medium height) and just turned 18 when Mario, a member of her family, hired her.She is not afraid of the bar just some nights when is very late and she has to return to her home, but she needs the money to cover a part of her studies because her parents didn’t like the idea when she left the architectural career to study what she really loves, dance.
Rosie is quite original in her way of being, acting and thinking.She is one of those people that you don’t meet twice in life according to her friends and family that always emphasized that.
She is quite passionate, fighter for her ideals and always looking for justice that sometimes is an advantage for her and sometimes a disadvantage.
And she never ceases to surprise the rest and one never finishes knowing her according to her loved ones.
Without caring about the prejudices of society, she already has a couple but significant tattoos on her body but not all were visible and some were seen only if she was in bikini, underwear or naked.
With her originality and passion she always thinks that maybe her parents would have preferred her to be just like the most of teenagers, follow trends, listen the same music, etc but well, she likes the way she is.
She has dark brown hair and brown eyes that she inherited from her dad.A look so intense and deep that people always say her look is flirtatious and intimidating even though she wasn’t being flirty, it’s just something natural in her.Sometimes she excuse herself saying “it must be a latino thing, you know, the tastiness we have inside” but deep inside she knows that not everyone had her look.
What sometimes makes Rosie uncomfortable is her body (even when she is a dancer) because she has curves, big thighs and not much bust but she works daily on self esteem.
...
It’s 10 pm when Rosie is cleaning glasses and thinking about her bed and how her dog should be waiting for her to sleep and her mind goes to another place by asking herself in which other place this is happening? maybe Cuba? maybe Mexico? she’s never going to know where exactly but she knows that people are having a good time like this in another place.But that thought was interrupted when she heard the door open and see a boy go into the bar, he has honey blond curls and hazel/green eyes that can be seen from a good distance.He looks like a character of a biker movie or like Grease with his leather jacket, shoes and shirt.
The boy is clearly surprised in a good way by the atmosphere and all the people dancing because he smiles immediately.That’s when Rosie realizes that he’s not from the area and that she will attend to him she says to Theo, who answers “okay” to Rosie thinking why the boy’s face is very familiar to him but he can’t remember where he had seen that face before.
20 notes · View notes
24zallurabbits · 6 years ago
Note
WIP Progress Sunday: Hey, Rabbit! I read your post on how you've been drafting your WIP and am really intrigued by your process. What gave you the idea to or how did you come about drafting in that progressive/piecemeal way?
Thanks for the question, Goose! It’s going to be a bit long, because I have a bit to say. :)
So what happened this week was on Monday I wrote nothing and felt bad about it, then write 117 words on Tuesday and felt worse about it because it all came out stilted and I hate it when my writing is stilted. It just makes me want to quit. So I knew something had to change about how I draft since this is usually how things end up. I have a fabulous idea, and then when I start writing I hate it. The other piece of this was I remembered from forever ago someone relating how they draft individual scenes by starting with the bare bones of the scene and incrementally adding more with each draft. I don’t remember who it was or where I read it, I think it was more than fifteen years ago.
Anyway, so after struggling through 117 awful words and then trying to come up with something that would make the drafting process easier for me on Tuesday, I spend a good portion of Wednesday before (and during) my classes doing the tedious work of putting together a fantasy calendar then matching the timeline I had already created to the fantasy calendar. It was super tedious, but I actually enjoy tedious work and by the end, it was pretty rewarding. It also highlighted some problems I had with the timeline. By the end of Wednesday, I had the timeline all fixed and the small problems ironed out, ending with an 80-scene outline which is the longest outline I had ever written.
Thursday is when everything started to change. I remembered that idea of starting with the bare bones first, and I looked at my outline and realized it would take me a million years to write the whole thing. Knowing myself and my writing habits, I knew I would never be able to stick with that. So I decided that the best way to work with my writer flaws and strengths would be to follow that old advice about bare bones. By the end of Thursday I had written over 2,000 words on draft 0.2 and felt even more excited about my story than before.
Friday the same thing happen. I wrote over 2k, reached the halfway point, and felt like I was both making progress and getting actual creative work in. Saturday I spent most of the morning writing 2.5k, finishing the 0.2 draft. When I reached the end of the outline at around 2pm on Saturday with 9k words, I felt successful. I felt like I had really accomplished something. I had fulfilled the writing part of me that needs to reach the end as fast as possible, I had satisfied the part of me that desires structure, and I had used the part of me that craves creative freedom, all in one draft. Before going to bed around 2:30pm (I had work last night) I printed off the whole 16 pages so that I would be able to read through it later. When I woke up at 5pm (way sooner than I meant) I got up and read through the outline and realized I had some pacing issues that needed to be fixed. This is normally something I discover after I have finished a whole prose draft, so the fact that I discovered it this early in the game really gave me a good push, because it was still easy to fix. So before going to work for the night I fixed it and while I deleted some scenes and brought the scene count down to 73, I ended with a much more streamlined and well-paced story. 
It was around this point that I realized this drafting method was really going to work for me in the long run. Because it pushes all my good buttons of finishing quickly, knowing where I’m going, and creative pantsing, while also helping create a first draft that will (hopefully) require less revision in the end, since I am preemptively fixing the major problems before everything gets too hard to move around. So I may have converted to plotter?
tl:dr I remembered some super old advice from half my life ago about starting a scene with the bare bones and building upwards from there, and discovered that by doing it that way I got to have my cake and eat it too with regards to plotting, drafting, and revising all sort of at the same time.
Sorry the answer was so long!
11 notes · View notes