#i should catch up on homework and study and whatnot
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perpetuallyuneloquent · 1 year ago
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i'm caving and watching good omens
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burnedbyshoto · 4 years ago
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a nurses job
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— Bakugou breaks his arms and as a nurse, you have the responsibility to make sure that he is comfortable, even when he needs to use the bathroom.
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pairing: pro hero!bakugou katsuki x nurse fem!reader
warnings: smut, 18+, prohero!bakugou, golden showers/water sports/piss kink, degradation (giving), dirty talk, lusting/pining, handjobs
word count: 5,050
a/n: so, I was going to make this a piss in ur mouth and pussy type of fic, but I kept seeing all those beautiful bakugou piss arts where he’s with a nurse.... so this is inspired and brought upon by all the water sports bakugou x nurse art ive seen for three months.
kinktober day 21 main kink: piss | kinktober masterlist
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You’re not quite sure what persuaded you into wanting to become a nurse as a child.
Maybe it was because your quirk (when you hum at an A flat, everyone within 5 meters experiences accelerated healing properties) was useless for Pro Hero work, so you realized early on that being a Pro Hero was a distant dream. Maybe it was because medical staff were still hailed as everyday heroes despite being in a world with people who could perform extraordinary achievements. It started as a small obsession to prove to the soon to be jobless, dream broken, and graduated failures of the hero course high schools that you had done more than them. That you, unlike them, were recognized as a hero. 
You were decent with math and science, so you strove for medical school. But with the horrendous costs of schooling, your then living situation, and your dislike of unneeded and unwanted competitive stress, you deterred toward the nursing pathway. It was a pathway where you really found yourself, or at least, you thought so.
Empathy, emotion, and the need to see people come out of a hospital better than when they entered was something that grew on you quickly and obviously. Your earliest clinical rounds often left you with swollen, tired feet from walking around for restless hours, but with a smile on your face that was irreplicable. With every semester in school, you got better, connected better with your patients. Your feet still ache after long shifts, and sometimes your smile is hollow and broken, and if you look closely, you could see dried tears and puffy eyelids, but you wouldn’t ever regret this decision to become a nurse.
At twenty-five, newly graduated from nursing school, already working full time at the best hospital in Japan, while studying for your degree to eventually become a nurse practitioner. You loved your job quite a lot. They had placed you immediately within their Post-OP, ICU, and recovery wings, and even though you were somewhat new, you were celebrating a year of working in a few weeks, you already had some… more than familiar faces.
“Well, Ground Zero-san, I guess you owe me a drink because unless my eyes are deceiving me, it looks like both your arms are broken, no?” you hum, your grin bright and wide, not even attempting to hide it’s glee as your high profile patient sat seething on the hospital bed. “It’s been, what? Two weeks since you last showed up here? You getting old?”
“Oh, would you shut the fuck up, you shitty ass nurse?!” Bakugou snarled, his arms obviously trying to tense and move against the large casts that envelope him. “The fuck would you expect to happen when facing off with a quirk that’s specifically meant to break people’s arms?!”
“Deku didn’t break any arms,” you point out with a soft laugh, eyes still scanning and reading through his charts to check his medical needs and medicine prescribed by the attending and when he should be taking them. “A bit weird that only half of the Wonder Duo was indescribably injured, no?”
A loud snarl ripped from Bakugou’s throat, and you stifled your own laughter as you raised your eyesight to look him straight in his raging eyes.
“I took that damn nerds hits because he’s broken his arms so many fucking times he’ll be forced to amputate them if he breaks them again!” Bakugou’s eyes were near white in his anger, but the intensity of his emotions was heavily diminished by the fact that his arms were strapped to his chest in thick, round bandages.
“You can admit you care for him,” you chide, ignoring his ‘like hell I do!’ Placing the chart down and walking to his IV drip, you checked to see if anything he was hooked to required any changes or whatnot. “Besides, this is not the first time I’ve seen you in here! It was quite surprising to see Ground Zero on bedrest on my first ever shift here.”
That much was true.
You had been working at Tokyo Hospital for nearly nine months now. Within the nine months, you saw a lot of heroes; that much was true. Your quirk was versatile as a nurse, and you were bright, young, very good at your job, and definitely a beautiful individual. So, when you were assigned to be working most of your days healing heroes because they were the backbone of the country, it didn’t quite catch you by surprise. It was a common assignment you had as a nursing student too.
You just didn’t expect the head nurse of the floor to assign one of your five rooms to be holding none other than Ground Zero, a.k.a Bakugou Katsuki.
Of course, you weren’t an idiot. You had known about the explosion hero since high school! You had sat in front of your TV in high school, attempting to do your homework while watching the rather intensive first-year battles. He had done well in every stage, placing within the top three each time and even winning the game! You had cringed at the awards ceremony but had been horrified at the news of his kidnapping. 
But after that, with the rising tensions of the villain world upon the dying world left behind by All Might, you had forgotten him for a moment. As time went on, and finally, a new support system was brought forth, Ground Zero, much like his quirk entailed, exploded onto the scene alongside Deku and a few other young heroes.
So, sure, you expected to maybe one day run into the ash-blond hero, but you didn’t expect it to happen on day one.
All things considered, the two of you got along rather well.
His... strong personality did make you wary of him at first, taking his near verbal barrage until you, very flusteredly he will argue, told him to ‘shut up, you butthole!’
You were horrified at your lack of professionalism, and Bakugou had gone silent as he stared at you in silence.
“Did you just call me a butthole?” he echoed, his face full of emotions you could not read. You felt on the verge of panicking, unsure if he was going to potentially tell on you! The sounds of a barking laughter rang in your ear, and you looked up to see his grinning, much more relaxed form. “Are you some shitty preschooler?!”
Thus began a working relationship of sorts between you and Bakugou.
He was an asshole, and you tried your best to not let him talk you off a cliff. It didn’t take very long for you to find out what made him tick surprisingly enough, and you used that to your advantage. The best way to tease him right now was by reminding him that he had been hospitalized more times than Deku, who apparently had held the record for the number of hospitalizations between him and his friends.
“Are you going to mention that shit first meeting every time we talk?!” Bakugou barked, his eyes narrowed as he turned his head away from you.
“After you admit you care deeply for all your friends!” you chirp back, stepping away from his IV drip, satisfied by what you saw. “Well, you look good for now. I’ll be checking up on you every ten to fifteen minutes since you can’t press the button until we can get those casts off! Did ya need anything before I go check on my other patients?”
“Open the damn window; it’s stuffy in here,” Bakugou grumbled, his face finally facing you again. 
“Of course,” you smile cheekily, your eyes squinting with your broad grin. “It’s a nurse's job to make their patients comfortable and happy!”
Standing at the side of the bed, you stretched over Bakugou to grab the edge of the window and slide it open. Through your stance, you were entirely aware of how this looked, how this felt. Your breasts centimeters from Bakugou’s face, your eyes never once breaking from the window to feign your innocence as you finally pull away. Even with scrubs on, you could feel his hot, sharp breathes expelling through your clothes, his ears tinging just the smallest bit red as you smile.
“Anything else?” you asked sweetly, failing to hide your impish grin.
“Put the water cup close by,” he grunted, eyes staring at the liter of water at his side table. Well, he wouldn’t be able to use his arms until just before he was set to be discharged, so moving the water closer was a good idea.
Nodding, you grabbed a nearby cup, filling it three-quarters of a way full before placing it onto the feeding table and dragging it near his mouth, a bendy straw already secured into the cup. You watched as he shot forward, putting the plastic straw into his mouth and beginning to drink the cold water. His eyes were back on yours, deceivingly cold had you already not been an expert on his personality.
With one final soft chuckle, you waved at Bakugou as you headed out, a cheerful smile on your face as he continued to drink his water.
“See ya in a few!”
Well, you guess there was one more important detail about your relationship with Bakugou Katsuki. For the past five months, you have been doing everything in your power to seduce him — to get him to admit that he wanted you too.
You knew the ethics and the morals behind falling for a patient of yours, much less a high profile patient at that. You knew that if your little crush was ever found out, you would most definitely be moved from his room. You were also damningly aware that you should have brought up your initial feelings for the explosion hero to your admin the moment it arose. But the thought and the way you were always so happy to be around him eventually overruled your logic. Five months ago, you had stayed at the hospital until nearly three am, talking with a severely concussed Bakugou. You were stationed for an overnight round with the task of making sure that he didn’t fall asleep. And for the first time in your time knowing Bakugou, the two of you somehow clicked into place, and when he was discharged the next morning — the nurse who had a quirk to rid of concussions finally arriving — he had thanked you.
It was so benign, so incredibly simple, yet the way the golden sunshine illuminated his blond hair and made his red eyes shine like a ruby, you found your own tired body feeling heated and warm. He wasn’t such a lousy conversationalist, and you had already enjoyed all your interactions together, yet it still caught you off guard to feel your heart pounding in your throat as he pulled on his jacket and left.
So after coming to terms with your sudden infatuation for the stubborn hero, you began to express your desires and feelings for him without having to say it. For all that he was worth and all that he expressed himself to be extremely observant, Bakugou Katsuki still had no idea that you liked him.
Unfortunately, your scrub nurse uniform wasn’t precisely seductive. The light blue of the breathable, sterile uniform was about as unsexy as uniforms got. But that never stopped you from leaning in too close when doing what Bakugou demanded of you. It didn’t prevent you from accidentally dropping papers in front of him and bending over to show off the curves of your ass.
There had never been a time such as this one where you hated that the old, ‘sexy’ nurse outfits were no longer up to standard and banned from use. How you would have loved to be wearing gartered held stockings just to accidentally flash to Bakugou. But, you suppose that it’s alright. Even though your feelings and ambitions to get the Pro Hero to like you as much as you did him, you never tried to push it.
For now, you were just an asshole tease.
You carried out the rest of your rounds in peace, your pager sitting comfortably in your pocket, unused, unneeded for now. The rest of your four patients were doing well for now.
One was asleep, most likely due to the medicine coursing through his veins, but his vitals remained unchanged.
Another was in the process of getting ready to be discharged, her family there to help her in leaving.
The third was eating his dinner, eyes concentrated on a poker game on the TV as he asked you to help fluff his pillow.
The last was busy with a physical therapist, her forehead slick with sweat as she attempted to sit up from her chair.
All in all, they were all doing fine, and you were back to the beginning, back to Bakugou’s room.
You entered his closed room door to be greeted by an empty bed. Your eyes widened immediately, the initial wave of pure horror flashing through you that by some freak accident, some murderous villain had kidnapped the injured hero straight from the hospital bed. 
“Ground Zero-san?!” you called out, a pitched voice of concern frilling your voice as you stumbled through the room. Your eyes were frantically searching the room, fingers feeling the lingering warmth of his body on the bed and your eyes noticing the empty water cup on his table still. The sheets of his bed haphazardly thrown off as if in a struggle.
Your fingers wound around the panic button, your ears straining to hear any sort of sign of Bakugou still being here.
A gritted teeth snarl was muffled from the attached bathroom, and you froze, unable to move as you felt the untouched button in your hands turn as light as a feather. You approached the bathroom door with soft footsteps, the smile on your face, unable to be stopped as you pulled the door open.
The sight you happened upon was something that made your lips curl into a wider smirk as the hospital clothed-clad hero absolutely struggled with his lack of functioning hands and arms to pull down his pants. Something he couldn’t do himself because the socks and slippers on his feet kept him from even attempting to tug his pants off with his toes.
In his struggle, undoubtedly miserable attempt to get his pants and underwear off his waist, Bakugou seemed ignorant to your arrival. His back still towards you, his head tilted down in his struggle as he twisted and pulled at practically nothing.
And as you watched him struggle, you couldn’t help but let your eyes drink in his form that stood tall before you. Most occurrences where you found yourself face to face with Bakugou, he was always tucked in a bed (except that time you realized your feeling for him), whether it was because he needed to be or because he was forced to be. So seeing him in his full height, seeing how despite your size, you were still only at his shoulder, made your eyelashes flutter.
He was tall, so deliciously tall, you wanted to climb onto a chair to see if he would be taller even with that added height. And oh how the flimsy material of his hospital outfit was stretched then against the taut muscles of his back. They flexed and shifted with his aggravation, and the only thought on your mind was to rake your fingers against the tempting muscle and skin.
“Shitty. fucking. villain!” he hissed angrily, sweat trickling down the back of his neck as he still struggled to do what nature called him for. 
But you couldn’t help it; the flexing muscles of his back, the lower tenor of his voice, and the way he seemed ridiculously larger than life at the moment tipped your restraint over. Your ability to hold back crashing through you like a tsunami wave, drowning you until you found your hand tethered to the tight spot at the center of his spine, your hushed words drifting to his ear like sweet, warm honey.
“You need any help here, Ground Zero-san?” you asked, your voice just loud enough to have your hot breath fanning against his sweaty exposed neck. You could feel him twitch in your hold, his body stiffening as he whipped his head around to look at you, red eyes wild, wide, and dark.
“Don’t ya know how to fucking knock?!” he snapped, his body flushed at being caught in the bathroom, unable to shed his clothes. He doesn’t move from your touch, and that small detail makes you warm, knowing that he wasn’t entirely repulsed by your touch. 
“You were missing from your bed, and I called your name,” you smile despite his angry glare. “I know you are susceptible to hear loss, but I thought you were still in the clear.”
“I ain’t fucking deaf,” Bakugou growled, his face twisted with a frown. “And that still doesn’t explain why the hell you’re here!”
“Oh, were you not just completely struggling earlier?” you feign shock, the grin on your face unstoppable at the embarrassed scowl that sets on his face. You step even closer to him so that your torso is perpendicular to his side. Your hand still gently touching his muscled back, and your free hand gently pressing to his own abdomen, the feeling of his flexed muscles, making you dizzy as you peer down at the white toilet. “Is there a villain in the toilet? I didn’t think that was possible!”
“Of fucking course not, there’s not a shitty villain in the toilet.” Bakugou flushed, his body entirely trapped by you, but he made no play to escape.
“Oh, so did you need help?”
Bakugou stares at you, his mind whirling a kilometer a second as he contemplates his next course of action. The both of you know he needs help, and still, the both of you are aware that his ability to ask of that from you is slim to none given he couldn’t even wait for you to return to his room.
“Tch,” he clicks his tongue angrily, annoyed, completely fed up. His eyes rolling to the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge you as his head nods once. “Help me, shitass nurse.”
“Of course!” you chirp, your eyes finding his hooded ones.
You give him one last warm, sweet smile before the hand on his torso lightly drags down his stomach, soft in its unashamed way of feeling him up. Your head tilted as your fingers hooked into the tight waistband of his pants and pulled it down, the heat of your palm accidentally dragging itself over the imprint of his cock behind his boxers.
The slight, flustered choking noise at the back of his throat didn’t go ignored by you, but rather but aside for later. Your eyes flashing up to see his red eyes wide, his cheeks so lightly dusted with pink as you managed to pull down his boxers too. 
“There!” you exclaim, your eyes closing in your grin before you turn your attention back down to his exposed dick. 
Immediately, you had to hold back a noise of pure want and lust at the sight of him. He was long, undoubtedly eight inches, definitely more. Although you couldn’t tell how thick, you knew his dick would fill your palm without a struggle. The trimmed, dark blond pubes and the protruding veins are what did it for you, your tongue poking out for a millisecond to wet your lips as you stared at his dark pink head.
“Stop staring at it!” Bakugou hissed, clearly embarrassed if the slight voice crack said anything about it. 
You looked back up at him, fake confusion swimming in your eyes as you tilted your head. “It’s only a penis. I see millions of these all the time.”
“Yeah, but it’s fucking weird!”
A soft laugh escaped your lips, your eyes rolling softly as you sighed in retreat, “Fine, fine, let's pee big boy and get you in bed.”
With your dominant hand, you grabbed his dick with a soft grip, pleasure simmering through you at the confirmation of the thick dick in your palm. But it seemed you weren’t the only one who thought that for the moment you tried to steer his dick toward the toilet to assist in aim, Bakugou hissed loudly. His flesh twitching to life in your warm, soft hand as it began to grow upward.
You didn’t say anything; your jaw remained as tight and closed as your vocal box despite the egging need to tease him and celebrate his apparent approval of your touch. So, eventually, in a voice that defied the nervous energy coursing through your veins, you asked: “Didn’t you need to pee?”
Bakugou let out a throaty, guttural groan, his anger hissing between his teeth as his dick twitched again in your hold, growing longer and harder still.
“I can’t take a damn piss with a hard-on, you idiot!” he roared despite the strawberry red blush on his cheeks. You admired the way he was still fighting for control of an upper hand here despite — clearly — not having any.
“Oh, haha! Silly me!” you laugh, your hand shifting against his length, your warm palm getting closer to the base of his cock.
“W-What are you doing?!” Bakugou spluttered, your soft butterfly touches sending him through a loop he clearly wasn’t expecting. “You could just wait for it to die!” 
“It’s a nurse's job to make their patients comfortable and happy,” you repeat your words, your hold on his dick growing firmer and harder just as his cock continued to do. “You clearly need to pee, and there’s no telling when your cock will go down.”
“I’LL MAKE IT GO DOWN!” Bakugou yells, but the usual sharpness to his tone has deflated, diminished to nothing but whining embarrassed yell. You look up at his clenched jaw and how a pretty pink glows on his cheeks, and you’re mesmerized.
Looking back down at his growing cock that warms your hand immensely, you hum, slightly twisting your hand around his length. Bakugou shudders, a whine hidden in his throat as you open your own mouth.
“Do you want me to stop?” you question, your eyes fluttering up to look at his clouded red ones. “Do you not need or want me?”
That was a double-headed question if Bakugou ever heard one. He looked at your glossy lips, the way they were pouted, so ready to be kissed, to be claimed, and that delirious look of want and need in your eyes. And he knows better; he knows that this is not the place, not the time to act on emotions like this. The need to pee sits heavily on his lower belly, just like the need to cum makes him twitch and pace uncomfortably. God fucking damn his broken to smithereens arms.
But you already know this, of course, you do. But you also know how stubborn he can be, how anal he can be about the littlest thing. So with no answer, you weaken your grip, making him think that you’re ready to leave, and he falls right into the trap.
“Make it fucking q-quick,” his voice cracks, the embarrassment nearly tangible as you nod your head firmly, your fist tightening around his cock.
Your warm fingers pressed onto his length, beginning at a slow leisurely pace, your eyes glued onto his face, detailing how he reacts to every small flick of your wrist, every little difference of grip in his hands. Your strokes began to grow larger, your fingertips tracing the bulging veins on his cock, your eyes hypnotized by the way his face pinches in his pleasure, the blush on his cheeks, the way the hot pants expelling from his mouth curl warmly in your lower belly.
“Y-You do this with all your shitty patients?” Bakugou growls, but it sounds weak, too blurred and slurred with his increasing pleasure.
Your fingernails drag against the underneath of his cock, tracing the incredibly sensitive skin until he’s slowly thrusting his hips into your fist. “Only the hot ones,” you tease, your thumb pressing against the tip of his beading tip, the warm pre-cum slick and spreading quickly against his flushed tip.
“You’re fucking disgusting,” Bakugou continues, his head tipping backward, exposing the slenderness of his neck that begs for your teeth to sink into. “Just needed to take a fucking piss.”
“Nervous, you’ll pee all over me, and I won’t want to suck your dick?” you ask, your fingers brushing near his scrotum, eyes blazing dangerously at the sight of his gasping, jaw-dropping face. His hips rut forward, leaking cock dripping with his pre-cum, and you giggle softly, fisting him faster, spreading the pre-cum against his heated sex.
Your fingers run against his throbbing length, your palm tight and hot against his cock, the veins you drag across searing against your flesh, ingraining itself onto your skin and memory forever. Despite it all, the obvious near tangible horror Bakugou has on the thought of pissing on you, he continues to fuck into your fist. 
“Damn bitch like you would probably l-like it if I pissed on you,” Bakugou pants, his casted arms twitching at his chest. His head tilted away from you, but his eyes burning into you, the red eyes hot as fire against your skin. “You want me to piss on you? Make you my bitch.”
The words burn against your skin, your teeth biting onto your lower lip as you meet his gaze. You’ve never considered it before, never thought you’d be into it. As a nurse, you’ve been around piss, shit, and vomit, and while you had grown unfazed by it, you never considered the prospect of a man pissing on you. But you thought of it, of Bakugou standing above you, free from his casts, hands on his cock as he smirks down at you with golden liquid spraying from his cock, soaking you where you lay. 
You shudder, pleasant chills running down your spine as you stare into his eyes yet again. 
“And if I do?” you ask, fingers rolling the head of his cock between your forefinger and thumb, relishing in the way that he snarls low in his throat. “What’re you gonna do about that, Ground Zero-san? You gonna piss all over your bitch after you get out of here.”
“You want me to piss on you here?” he asks, his voice snappish, strained, his hips drilling harder into your hand that was quickly speeding up. A battle of power and speed between the both of you as he looms over you, face flushed, pink, and lips demanding to be kissed. “Wouldn’t be surprised if you do.”
“Why’s that?” you breathe, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, a breath away as your hand grips and tightens even more around the base of his cock, causing a pained-pleasured hiss to rip from behind his teeth as he looks at you.
“Don’t act like your shitty ass hasn’t been trying to seduce me every time I show up,” Bakugou gruffs, his hips continuing a drilling rhythm into your fist, his body no longer shy or embarrassed.
“So you noticed but never said anything?” you counter, your fingers shifting over to his swollen, hot balls. You fondle them, tugging at their weight gently, taking in the way his eyes roll to the back of his head and the way his teeth tear into his lip. “Coward.”
“Hah?! Who the fuck—”
You can’t help yourself anymore, your mouth coming to slam against his in a piercing, searing kiss. He moans into the kiss, and you gasp back, tongues clashing together, teeth knocking into each other as awkward, nearing uncomfortable kisses are exchanged. His sweet scent of caramel wafts into your nose, and his grunts and groans are addicting, entirely enthusiastic noises that send your own thighs clenching shut to quiet the heated need in between your thighs.
Your hand increases in its speed, his whines and groans so pretty and piercing into you. 
“How fucking gross,” you laugh into his mouth, the slicked heat of his precum lathering your palm until soft noises of your fisting hand begin to fill the sterile bathroom. “You’re a child, wanting to piss on things that you shouldn’t. You came to the bathroom and got a hard-on instead of pissing, Bakugou, aren’t you embarrassed.”
“Y-Y/l/n,” he hissed, his jaw falling slack against your mouth. His hips are drilling into you faster and faster, the throbbing of his cock, the growing, thick scent of his caramel sweat filling the room and your senses. “F-Fuck!”
“Such a dirty, childish pro hero,” you smile your tongue curling into his mouth and dragging against the roof of his mouth as he shudders helplessly against you. “Cum already, Bakugou, cum and piss over yourself like some small brat.”
He shudders, and you find your mouth leaving his own as you stare down, spurting white ropes of cum pour from his tip, completely covering the toilet seat with his sticky white cum. And you watch as soon as his body collapses onto you, entirely spent from the orgasm, yellow piss streaming from his tip.
The toilet fills with his cum and piss, and you grin once his balls and bladder are completely drained. His cock limp and weak in your hand as you hum, your quirk activating and causing the exhausted Pro Hero to recompose himself so that he wasn’t entirely weak against you. 
“Such a good patient,” you coo, pulling up Bakugou’s boxers and hospital pants without a second's thought. Patting his butt gently, you watched as his still exhausted red eyes stared at you. You walked over to the sink, washing your hands so that you could continue to finish the rest of your shift.
“Don’t think this is over, shitty nurse.”
You look at him over your shoulder, your fingers curling under the warm water as you grin.
“I expect to be fucked and pissed on next time,” you counter, your smirk devastating and sending a fire right back to Bakugou’s groin. “No freebies anymore.”
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tamakissimp · 4 years ago
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headcanon - being their old classmates child
request: @rayanicaraynbow​ Hey! I was wondering if you could do headcannons for Aizawa, Midnight, and Present Mic reacting to finding out that one of their students are the child of an old friend of theirs? So like, y/n's parent(s) were close friends with those 3 when they were younger, and the reaction they'd get by them finding this out like half way through the year or something. I'm not good at wording things lol, and if not that's fine. I love your blog, btw! <3
a/n: thank you so much! I love this idea so much! I hope you like it!
AIZAWA:
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Most of the time, Aizawa was either too sleepy or too grumpy to notice the resemblance between you and his childhood friends.
He didn't think twice about how your quirk seemed to be a mix between that of his friends.
You didn't know that he was the 'Shota-kun’ that your parents often talked about.
Since you were a pretty average student, Aizawa never felt the need to have a parent-teacher conversation.
After he found out that you were indeed the child of his old friends, he tried his best to not play favourites.
But he couldn't help himself when he kept on noticing how much your mannerism was like those of your parents.
Sometimes you would get a little less homework or he would go a bit easier on you during training.
You tried to appear calm while you and your parents wait outside of Aizawa's classroom. They are both gushing about how much the UA has changed since their years here. From the paint on the walls to the pictures they hung op on them, so much has seemed to change
Suddenly, the classroom door swings open. A dishevelled Aizawa stands before you. He looks between you and your parents a couple of times. "Shota-kun?" your dad says before pulling the teacher in for a hug.
You and Aizawa share a confused look while your mom joins in for a group hug. What is going on? Your mom finally brings you out of your confusion. "Oh, Shota, if we would have known you became a teacher, we would have stopped by sooner!". Was your teacher the Shota-Kun that you had heard so many stories about?
Aizawa stumbles over his words for a bit. God, it must have been years since he last saw his friends. Now it all makes sense. Why you seemed so familiar, why he already knew everything about your quirk. He looks over your parents and you again. You were a perfect mix of them.
"I didn't know that Y/n was your child," he says. His voice is quiet, even more than normal. Your dad nods as he mentions with his hand for you to come closer. Once you're within arms reach, he swings his arm over your childer.
It was weird for him to see you all. Most of his friends turned into hero's, who now didn't have the time to worry about starting a family. But obliviously two of his friends succeded in it.
"Why don't you swing by for tea after this? To catch up," your mom suggests. Aizawa nods before leading you and your parents into his classroom. While his body is still tired, as usual, his mind was buzzing with excitement. Maybe he should have called your parents in sooner.
PRESENT MIC:
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You blended into the background too much for him to really notice you.
Sure, he knew all of his students. But since he was busier with hyping up his class than with really paying attention to every single student, you just got lost in the crowd.
It isn't until one particular training session that he really noticed how similar your quirk is to that of his childhood friends.
He confronts you about it afterwards. Asking about your parents and whatnot.
Once you drop their name, he immediately asks for a picture of them. He practically begs you to invite him to dinner that night.
He walks you to your house after classes are over. A huge smile is plastered on his face as he sees your parents again.
He spends the entire night over, talking end-on-end about the past and your lives now. Since your parents were highschool-sweethearts back in the day, Hizashi loves to see that they're still together.
Definitely plays favourites with you afterwards and does nothing to hide it.
"Good job! Well done, Y/l/n!" Hizashi says happily. Your cheeks heat up as you sink further into your seat. Ever since your teacher found out about your parents, he has called on you to answer questions way more often. Sure, Iida was bummed that someone took his place as being the teacher's pet but he never showed his irritation.
Present mic continues on with his lesson. You just dose for a bit, getting lost on daydreams. It isn't until he starts handing out the homework packets that you zone back in. Students around you groan at the amount of work he's handing out. Most were expecting to learn about their quirk at the UA. While they got to do just that, they also had to do an insane amount of homework along with it, English including.
As the teacher reaches your table, you notice that the packet he hands you is significantly smaller than that of the other students. You look up at your teacher. Hizashi just sticks his tumb up at you. "Tell your parents I'm coming over after dinner, okay?" he says.
You nod at him. A bright smile flashes over his lips before he continues to walk to the next students. You scan through the homework he just handed you. It will only take fifteen minutes to make, tops. Being the teacher's favourite does have its perks.
MIDNIGHT:
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She'll notice that your face feels familiar, but she won't act out on it.
She won't even mention it to you. Instead, she keeps on teaches her class like normal, but you notice that she is being kinder to you.
Nothing out of the ordinary though, not until she saw your parents.
Your mom and dad had been begging for you to show them around campus. They hadn't been inside the building since their teenage years and were desperate to see it again.
That's when Midnight spotted you and your parents walking through the halls. Suddenly the familiarity made sense.
"Hey!" she calls out. Your parent turns around at the sound of her familiar voice.
The rest of the afternoon consisted of them catching up again while you were awkwardly third -well actually forth- wheeling.
After that, she didn't play favourites with you since your parents specifically told her not to.
She was a lot less stern with you, if at all. She never called on you to answer questions in front of the class.
If you made spelling errors on a test, she would pretend to have not seen them.
"Well, that was it for today," Midnight calls out. The class sighs thankfully and quickly packs up their stuff to get the hell out of the classroom. Instead of just grabbing your stuff and bolting out of the room, you stop by Nemuri's desk first. She looks at you with a bright smile.
"How can I help you, Y/n?" she asks. It still feels weird to be called by your first name by a teacher. You nod as you reach into your bag, pulling an old photo book out of it.
You hand it to Nemuri and her face lights up. "My uh, My parents want me to give you this," you say. The last couple of students who are still in the classroom send you weird looks but you don't pay them any mind.
"Thank you so much!" Nemuri says. She starts to flip through the book. Memories flood her mind with every picture she sees. "You look a lot like your dad when he was younger, you know?". She shows you a picture of him from the book to further prove her point.
Embarrassment washes through you as you stare at the picture. Nemuri has her arms slung around your father's waist while planting a kiss on his cheek. Even when she was younger, being a flirt was written into her DNA. She pulls the book away from you once she notices you uncomfortably shifting your weight around.
"Anyways, thank you, parents, for me yeah?" she asks. You nod at her and start walking towards the exit of the room. "Oh, and by the way.". You turn back around to face her. "There's a surprise pop-quiz next week," she says with a wink. You nod at her an make a mental note to start studying tonight. Okay, maybe she plays favourites just a little.
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dakotacrisis · 5 years ago
Text
Hanging in the Stars
Soooo...I’m back at the Felinette again cause as we’ve established before I have no self control. Also @emzurl‘s art sparks a need to expand with fanfiction because I have fallen down the Felinette rabbit hole and I ain’t coming out!
Based off of this and this and this. I already wrote one based on one of these but I’m bringing it all together now!
War has broken out between Felix and Marinette. The only way to peace is through invasion of personal space.
---
It was Romeo and Juliet. Those that didn’t even read the play knew the Shakespearean tragedy.
Miss Bustier’s class had finished reading it and she opened the discussion for what her students thought an accurate interpretation of the play was. Little did anyone know the storm this question would unleash.
Marinette had raised her hand and gave her piece about how she thought it was a beautiful tragedy about a poisonous hatred conquered by love. Most of the class nodded along.
Then from the back of the classroom was a deep groan. Marinette went ramrod straight as she turned around to glare at the opposed.
“Felix, you have a different interpretation?” Miss Bustier asked.
“Yes.” He met Marinette’s glare, “To brand this tale a beautiful tragedy is to scrape the mere surface. When in actuality it is better suited as a cautionary tale about the stupidity of youth and trappings of shallow lust.”
“Thank you, Felix.” Miss Bustier nodded, “That was an interesting interpretation. Did anyone else have any ideas?”
“How can you say it is about the stupidity of youth?” Marinette countered, “The shallow lust you claim was actually real love. It only seemed rushed because it had to be introduced quickly to fit the run time of the play.”
“I am not surprised a hopeless romantic such as yourself would choose to believe in the delusion of love at first sight.” Felix rolled his eyes, “What Romeo and Juliet are experiencing is physical attraction that was further exacerbated by a juvenile sense of teenage rebellion brought on by their ancestor’s feud.”
“And I am not in the least surprised that a cynic such as yourself would take such a stance.” Marinette shot back, “Yes their feelings come on quickly but in the context of this story love at first sight does exist. It was a destiny written in the stars that they should love and their love should end in tragedy. Throughout the entire play there are references to the theme of the universe. They know the force that brought them together will inevitably drive them apart but still they beg the cosmos to let them be.”
“Or is it that destiny does not exist. There is no grand plan or greater meaning to the lives of others. We simply float through life experiencing hardships and pleasures. These two idiots were as made for each other as a fast food commercial saying that burgers and fries are a perfect pairing.” Felix stood out of his seat.
“I refuse to believe that everything is left to chance. There are some things in this world that are meant to be and Shakespeare understood that.” Marinette was out of her chair as well. “A feud started long ago that is buried with love. What better metaphor is there for destiny and tragedy and the delicate nature of life and love?”
“I can think of one.” Alya said with a knowing smile.
“Okay kids!” Miss Bustier called out. “I think that is enough for today. We will pick up on this tomorrow.”
The class cooled down from the debate. Marinette was seething but turned away to gather her things. Why was she getting so worked up about Felix’s opinion on a play anyway? That wasn’t like her. But to hear such a pessimistic outlook on one of the greatest love stories ever written had triggered her in a way. Should she have really thought more from the pessimist himself?
“Girl,” Alya slid closer to Marinette, “Things got a tad heated there. Any particular reason?”
“Felix just rubs me the wrong way. The pompous, cold hearted, little cynic that he is.” Marinette swung her bag onto her shoulders.
“Pompous? Yes. Cold hearted? Also yes.” Felix strode past their desk, “But I am a realist, Dupain-Cheng. Not a cynic. Get your facts right.”
“You arrogant son of a--”
“Whoa girl. Calm down.” Alya held her back. “Don’t let him get to you.”
---
Felix couldn’t deny that he didn’t enjoy some good conflict. He lived for debates. And debating with Dupain-Cheng had been interesting to say the least. She had already proved herself a spigot of emotion and thus her views and arguments were strongly driven by her own conviction.
As much as she tried to remain good natured and level headed there was an unquenchable fire within her. And Felix relished nothing more than fanning the flames when given the chance. Maybe it was the fact that she was one of the few genuinely intelligent people in his class. Maybe it was the fact that she was conniving under her fluffy persona. But Dupain-Cheng had a grace and composure that burned bright and made her tower high with confidence. It was...fascinating.
Not that he would ever admit such a thing. He knew exactly how she would respond if she ever found out Felix had been riling her up to glimpse the unwavering girl he quietly admired. Was his avoidance at her reaction born from shame or fear? Perhaps both.
The days went by and the debates he held with Dupain-Cheng grew. His pleasure hidden by an impassive mask he crafted over many years.
It wasn’t until she started ignoring him altogether did his behavior seem to catch up to him. In his head their debates and jabs had all been in good fun. A game of teasing or whatnot. But now she wouldn’t respond. The fire he loved to see had smouldered. She looked tired. Even when he targeted her directly she wouldn’t so much as meet his gaze. The most he could get out of her was a sharp word or a harsh glance.
Had he gone too far?
“Dupain-Cheng.” He walked up to her before class. “I need to talk to you.”
“I don’t feel like getting into another argument with you, Felix.” She continued to rifle through her locker. Her back to turned to him as she spoke.
“I’m not here to argue with you.”
“That’d be a first.” She muttered.
He reached past her and closed the locker. He kept his arm against the locker effectively pinning her in place so she couldn’t easily run off. “I mean it. There is something I need to tell you.”
She turned slowly so that she was facing him and it was at this point he realized exactly how close he had gotten. Her face was barely a breath away staring up at him. A mad blush rising hot up her neck as she clung tightly to her books.
“What do you want?” She asked.
“I...” Felix couldn’t remember. The speech he had carefully prepared and worded had erased itself from his memory. What is it he had wanted to say!
“Marinette, can I copy your homework? I completely forgot to finish that worksheet from chemistry last night.” Alya came around the corner and saw her best friend pinned against her locker by Felix. “Or should I give you two a minute to sort this out?”
“Alya!” Marinette slid out from Felix and joined her friend. “Good morning! What was this about your homework?”
Felix was still frozen in place by the lockers. What was that! He’s better than this! He’s more composed than this! A pair of bluebell eyes will not unhinge him again.
Not to worry. They had a free period today. Marinette had a habit of using that period to study by herself so he would get to her then. He just needed to keep a level head and not get distracted like he did this morning.
Free period came and everyone trickled out of the classroom. Marinette stayed seated. Now was his chance.
“Dupain-Cheng,” He stopped at the desk next to her. “Got a minute?”
“No.” She pulled out her textbook. “Can you leave? I’m trying to study.”
“And I will leave you to it in a moment. I need a quick word with you. That’s all.”
“No offense, Felix, but I really don’t care about what it is you have to say to me.” She stood up, “And since you won’t leave I guess I’ll have to.”
“Dupain-Cheng, wait.” He called out to her.
She stopped and turned back to look at him. “What?”
“Come here.” he gestured.
“Why should I?” she raised her chin defiantly.
“Fine then.” He crossed over to her. “I’ll just come to you.”
“Okay, you’re here. Now what?” She muttered. Her eyes still met his own but it was a struggle to do so. The warm glow on her cheeks didn’t escape his notice either.
His face was blank but his heart beat painfully loud in his chest. Say something. Say anything! You got her here and you probed this close into her personal space already you need to say something!
“Now I’m going to...” He pushed even closer. The subtle pink of her face exploding into a hot red as he inclined nearer.
Where was he going with this? This wasn’t the plan! Swerve, Felix! Swerve!
“Remove this from your hair.” He pulled a leaf that had been caught in her hair.
He turned towards the garbage can to throw it away. “You really must be more attentive miss Dupain-Cheng. Appearance is everything.”
She made a loud angry growling sort of noise before stomping out the door. Felix stared at the leaf in his hand with a growing sense of dread. What was wrong with him? Two times he lost his sense of direction trying to talk to her. Why was he getting so close to her in the first place? Before he was trying to keep her in place so she had to listen to him. But here she was already listening.
Whatever. This was stupid. Dupain-Cheng would be back to her usual spitfire self in no time. It wasn’t his fault.
He left to go clear his head in the library. There was a secluded spot away from the usual noise he loved to sit and study in. On his way he passed by Dupain-Cheng who glared at him. Her face still bright red from their earlier encounter.
He couldn’t help the smirk that crept onto his face as he walked past her. He settled down in his corner and pulled out the travel copy of Romeo and Juliet he had been reading. He had an essay to write and needed to find which quotes he wanted to include.
Romeo: Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, too rude, too boisterous; and it pricks like thorn.
Mercutio: If love be rough with you, be rough with love; Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.--
“HEY!”
The shout pulled Felix from his work. He gazed up just in time to see Dupain-Cheng descend upon him in a fury. Slamming her hand against the wall next to him trapping him in place much like he had done her this morning.
She was so small though. It would be only too easy to move her and escape to somewhere more secluded but her unwavering gaze kept him in place.
“Do you like it when I invade your personal space uninvited?” She snarled at him, “Huh, smart guy?”
“I do.” The words leapt past his lips without thought.
His eyes grew wide as he searched for something else to say. What was wrong with him? Before he couldn’t get out two words to her and now the two words he chose were damning to his unforeseen intentions. Why was he acting like this?
She backed away from him. Her face a mask of embarrassment and regret. Felix’s own visage was no better. His indifference peeled away to reveal his own embarrassment and excitement from the event.
“I’m--I’m sorry,” she stammered. Her mortification hidden behind her hands. “I don’t know what came over me. I just wanted to make you as uncomfortable as you made me.”
“I uh,” Felix cleared his throat, “I see.”
He took a deep breath to compose himself and set his book down. He inched a step closer towards her. He wouldn’t get up close again. His mind would surely short circuit once more.
“It was never my intention to make you uncomfortable. I only wished you to listen and I feared any other way you may have walked away.” He told her.
“What is it you have to say that I need to listen to?” she kept her eyes locked on the ground. “I already said once I don’t want to argue with you anymore, Felix.”
“I like it when you argue with me.” He answered truthfully. “Debating with you is some of the most and only fun I have in this school.”
“Why though? Why me?”
“Do you really believe that anyone else can hold such intelligent passion?” He asked. She met his eyes once again and he sighed. “You are clever and you have conviction. It is a rare treat to see you bring both to the surface in such an entertaining way. I suppose that it was greedy of me to probe you for my own amusement. You were such an optimist I didn’t think your well of patience and drive could run dry.”
“You constantly got into arguments with me because you wanted to see me get mad?” Her eyebrows knit together.
“The situation is more nuanced than that but to be black and white about it, yes. I guess I was making you angry for my pleasure.”
“That is rather selfish.” her gaze hardened, “Did you not once think of how it made me feel? Having to constantly battle your arrogant opinions? It was all rather exhausting.”
“You left me rather winded after a row as well.” Felix smirked. He crept another step closer. She watched him wearily but didn’t make a move to distance herself. “As firm as I believe it was hard to not get sucked into your point of view. You speak so passionately to stand against you is a chore in and of itself. One I both loathe and look forward to.”
“You are a real piece of work. You know that?”
“A masterpiece?” he quipped with a teasing smile.
She made a small snorting sound that struck Felix to the bone. She was laughing. Genuinely laughing because of him.
“If you say so.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt.
“From now on I’ll leave our debates strictly in the classroom. Agreed?” He held out a hand to her.
“Agreed.” She took his hand firmly and shook.
A bit of daring flooded his system and he pulled her forward bringing her hand up to his face and left a chaste kiss upon it. Her face was flushed that mad red again. “I look forward to our next bout, Dupain-Cheng.”
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gxenbev · 5 years ago
Text
Guilt
I’m trying to write something different, and it ended up becoming more of a vent fic, but heres the first chapter. I’m hoping to write more, but I might not continue it depending on the response it gets. Feedback is very much appreciated! if anyone wants to talk, my ask box is open. Btw, it will be reddie in future chapters.
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Richie quietly enters his dorm. He carefully shuts the door and walks to his bed, but he can’t see straight. He tumbles face-first to the floor, and Stan’s phone flashlight is shining on him in an instant.
“Richie?” he asks frantically.
Richie sits up, but the pounding in his head prevents him from saying anything. He rubs at it, but the pain doesn’t subside.
“Richie,” Stan says again, but this time more urgently. He stumbles out of his own bed and kneels beside Richie on the ground. He takes his hand away from his face. “Really, Richie?”
Richie moans. He knows Stans mad. He can feel the angry seeping out of his touch, even though he’s being gentle. He can hear the hurt tone in his voice, and Richie knows he fucked up.
“‘M sorry,” he mumbles trying to turn away from Stan.
“You promised to be back by nine? Don’t tell me you fucking forgot. We both know its a lie,” Stan tells him harshly.
“Gonna go to bed,” Richie slurs, wobbly pushing himself off the ground. He falls back onto his bed without stripping off his jeans and stained t-shirt. He doesn’t need to look up to know that Stan’s still glaring at him.
“How am I supposed to be able to trust you, Richie?” he asks. He doesn’t sound angry. He sounds like he’s on the verge of tears.
Richie looks up to see Stan furiously wiping at his face. Stan doesn’t cry. He yells and he whines, but tears are never evident. Richie wants to get up and hug him, but he thinks he might puke if he tried to stand. Stan looks like he’d punch Richie if he even tried to touch him, but he can’t think of anything to say. Instead, he leans back and bites his lip to keep it from quivering.
Richie can hear Stan climbing back into his own bed and pulling the covers up. He lays on his side facing Stan, but Stan is turned away from him.
Richie knows he fucked up, he doesn’t need Stan to point it out. Stan told him he needed to be home by nine, and Richie said he would. When eight-thirty rolled around, he realized Stan wasn’t his mother and he doesn’t have a curfew anymore. A few drinks later, Richie realized he probably should have gone home. Lying in bed now, Richie knows he definitely should’ve gone home.
He falls asleep quickly despite his mood. He just wants to sleep the alcohol off.
When he wakes up, he’s surprised to see Stans still there. He's sitting on his bed with his textbook and a spiral notebook in front of him.
Richie grabs blindly for his glasses and see’s the glass of water and Advil on his nightstand.
“Thanks,” he mumbles to Stan, letting him know he’s awake.
“Make sure to drink it all,” Stan says, going back to his work. Richie listens and pops the pill into his mouth before chugging the water.
“Stan,” he starts, but he can’t get any words out once Stan makes eye contact with him. He can see the hurt behind his deep blue eyes and it makes him want to curl up into himself and cry. He hates that he's the reason Stan looks like that.
“Are you hungry?” Stan asks, not waiting for Richie to finish what he was going to say. Richie nods and Stan hands him the bagel he brought back from the cafeteria that morning.
“Thanks,” Richie says and Stan nods. He settles back onto his bed in silence. They’re used to having a silence hang between them, but usually, it's a comfortable one. This one is heavy and awkward. Richie knows he needs to apologize or explain himself or something.
“I think I’m going to go to Bills,” Stan mumbles. Richie watches him as he gathers his things and heads to the dorm across the hall. Richie feels the pit in his stomach widening.
Richie doesn’t hate Bill, per se. He’s nothing but nice, but Richie can’t stand to see him around Stan. The two of them together make Richie’s eyes burn. He doesn’t know if its the way they laugh together or the way Bill smiles at Stan like he’s the only person in the room. Whatever it is, he can’t stand it.
Richie tries to go back to sleep to ease his raging headache. He thinks of things to say to Stan. He’s tired, but the image of Stan’s hurt face last night keeps him awake. He decides to pull out his own notebooks and finish some homework.
He pulls out his communications textbook and the creased notebook from the bottom of his bag. He searches through three different backpack pockets before he finds a pencil. Richie turns to the next clean sheet of paper, but he can’t focus on the words on the page, either. Instead, he starts writing down the things he wants to say to Stan.
He begins the list with:
I’m really really sorry.
Richie bounces his pencil off his chin, then crosses it out.
I hate it when I make you look like that. Hurt.
He starts the next line.
I hate when you’re with Bill, and I hate that I hate that.
I hate that I can’t talk to you like a normal person.
I hate that you’re still nice to me after I’m terrible to you, because I know I don’t deserve that.
Richie keeps the notebook open but closes his textbook. He’s still not in the mood to study. He looks closer at his paper, but he can’t write down in accurate words all the things he wants to say. He dumps the contents of his bag on the bed and shoves his notebook in it. He shoves his jacket in there as well and rushes out of the dorm, locking the door behind him.
He heads to Beverly’s building. Richie needed to vent or cry or both, and Beverly was the only person who could tolerate him when he was deep in his feels.
Richie doesn’t wait long at the door. Beverly rushes to open the door as soon as she hears the knock, and Richie catches the disappointed look on her face when she sees him, but he pretends he doesn’t notice it. Maybe she was just expecting someone else. She starts smiling brightly and lets Richie in.
“Hey, Richie, what's going on?” she asks after Richie’s settled on the deflated beanbag on the floor.
“Miss Marsh, what do you think of Denbrough?”
Beverly shrugs. “Bill’s my friend. He's nice and whatnot. We don’t talk a whole lot, but he’s sweet when we do. Why?”
Richie takes the notebook out of his bag and sets it in his lap. “I want to like him, but I can’t.”
“What's stopping you?” Beverly asks. She rummages in the mini-fridge for a coke and tosses one to Richie.
“He’s always in my room hanging out with Stan.”
“And why would that bother you?” she asks, taking a seat in the beanbag beside Richie’s.
Richie’s quiet for a minute. Beverly waits patiently. He debates saying something vague, but he needs to tell someone how he feels and Beverly just feels like the right person.
“I think it's because every time I talk to him, Stan gets this hurt, disappointed look in his eyes, but when Bill talks to him, he gets all happy and smiley.”
Beverly frowns. She takes Richie’s hand in her own and squeezes it tight. Richie can’t look her in the eye. He still feels the heavyweight in his chest and he wants to cry.
“Richie,” she says, calmly. Her voice is dripping with sympathy and Richie hates it. He doesn’t want sympathy. “It sounds like you have just had a crush.”
Richie’s hand goes limp in Beverly’s. He had never thought about having feelings for Stan before, but that's what he would think if anyone came to him with the same story. He thinks harder about all the time’s Stan has looked at him, or more accurately, looked down at him. Of all the things he feels around Stan, love was never one of them. He doesn’t like Stan like that, he’s sure of it.
“No, Beverly. I don’t think that’s it.”
Beverly nods. It's comforting that she doesn’t push the idea any farther. She believes him, and Richie realizes that that's a rare occurrence for him.
“Maybe you just don’t like that he’s happy around Bill,” she suggests.
Richie can tell his face gets all scrunched up because Beverly laughs and smooths out the crease of his eyebrows with her thumb.
“Why would that be?” he asks her.
“Because you want to be happy like that, but you’re not.”
Richie looks up at Bev’s loving face. She’s not looking at him like he’s inferior. Stan looks at him like that a lot. She’s looking at him like she cares.
“Miss Scarlet, I think you might’ve just hit the nail on the head,” he says in the most obnoxious British accent Beverly’s ever heard.
This discovery fills him with a new kind of guilt; guilt that doesn’t just fill his chest but sits on top of his shoulder and makes his head feel heavy and his legs feel numb. He can feel tears burning in his eyes and Beverly rests her hand on his cheek.
“Richie, it's okay. It’s okay, Rich,” she whispers. Beverly pulls Richie into her side on her own beanbag and lets him rest his head on her shoulder. He doesn’t try to stop the tears anymore and Beverly doesn’t shush him like a child. She lets him cry and rubs his back.
“How did you know?” he asks softly.
“Experience,” she says without missing a beat. Richie’s heart extends for her, his best friend.
Richie opens the notebook resting on his lab and shows it to Bev. He avoids her eyes. He doesn’t want to know if they look the same as Stan’s.
Instead, the arm wrapped around his shoulders pulls him in closer.
“I love you, Rich, you know that?” he asks.
“I love you too, Bev,” Richie tells her.
The guilt that's been piling up is starting to feel lighter. He feels better. Richie stays a little while longer before going back to his own building. On the walk, he tears the page out of his notebook and crumbles it up before shoving it in his coat pocket.
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yxppeo · 6 years ago
Text
rest
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pairing: chan x reader
genre: fluff
au: cafe, college
warning: none
summary: rest was not in this boy’s vocabulary
a/n: reposted from my old blog!
you were an employee at the cafe near your university
let’s call it the district cafe
chessy huh
after your classes, you immediately clocked in and worked until 8 with small breaks to get some homework done
you would sometimes work overtime and on holidays as well
needed that extra cash cuz you’re a broke bitch lmao
many people thought working at a place where you would see your peers might be embarrassing for them
thinking that they’ll be teased for working at a small cafe
but you were different
you would see many familiar faces from uni that would greet you with smiles as they ordered their coffees and pastries
they wouldn’t have to look at your name tag to know who you were
“hey y/n! can i get the caramel macchiato and a strawberry shortcake?”
“of course!” you smiled back, punching in the order
your manager was happy to have you as an employee
seeing that you were the only reason people still come to the cafe
you were the nicest cafe worker they would have ever met, and would come back for more
no matter how busy the cafe got, you still had a smile on your face
you knew a lot of your regular’s orders, and would have it ready as soon as they walked in
“hello y/n, can i have-”
“matcha frappe with cheesecake? already done.” you interrupted, winking at them
they would stare at you with awe as they paid for the food, giving you a very generous tip
one friday night, the cafe was running a little slow
there was no one at the cafe
which was weird because fridays were usually the busiest
but maybe because it’s the fifa world cup playing on tv, people stayed inside all day munching on nachos and screaming at the screen
you didn’t mind it though
there were times you needed peace and quiet
especially when you needed to clean up the tables
you looked at the clock
“4 more hours until closing.” you said to yourself
“hey y/n, you should go home, it’s pretty slow.” your manager said, catching your attention
you noticed she was wrapped up in her coat with her bag over her shoulder
ready to go home
“why? we’re open for another four hours.”
“fifa’s on and south korea is playing their first game.”
you looked at your manager
“hey, how about you go home and watch the game? i’ll stay here until closing.” you proposed
“really? you’re willing to do that?” she said, looking at you in shock
you nodded, giving her a smile
“yes, now go home and relax!” you said as you lightly pushed her towards the entrance
“you’re definitely getting a raise next week.” she laughed as she walked through the door, making you smile as you shook your head
you sat down behind the counter in silence
pulling out your laptop as you powered it on, wanting to get some homework done
ten minutes passed by as the bell on the entrance door rang
pulling you away from your studies, you stood up to see the person approaching you
you don’t recognize him, but you still smiled as you greeted him
“welcome to the district cafe, how may i help you?”
he looked at you, smiling before ordering
“he’s attractive.” you thought to yourself, noticing his cute nose and dimples that were prominent on his face
“i’ll just have an americano.” he said as he brought his wallet out
“okay, one americano for?” you trailed
“chan.” he answered
“right, an americano for chan coming right up.” you softly said as he smiled at you
chan sat down at a table, pulling out his laptop and headphones
plugging it in the jack and placing the headphones on his head
you delicately made the americano to perfection
you would usually call his name out to tell him his order was ready
but since it was just the two of you
you decided to leave the counter and give it to him personally
he looked at you, giving you a thanks before averting his attention back to his laptop
an hour later, you noticed chan was blankly staring at his screen, his mouth slowly open
he would drop his head a few times before jumping up and putting his attention back on the screen
you chuckled to yourself as you got up to make another drink for him
you walked up to him and gave him the drink
he looked at you with worried eyes
“uh, i’m sorry, i don’t have enough money for another one.”
you smiled
“don’t worry. it’s on the house. i noticed you were getting a little tired.” you said, sliding the drink towards him
he thanked you again
you took your laptop from the counter and sat across from chan
“do you mind if i sit here?” you asked
he shook his head
“nah, not at all, it’d be nice to have some company.” he said, giving you a small smile
which made your heart do a little flip
for the next hour, you typed away on your laptop as you flipped through your notebook as chan clicked and dragged his mouse, occasionally hitting a few keys
as soon as you were done, you looked at chan
he noticed eyes looking at him, so he looked up, locking eyes with you
he slid his headphones off
your eyes widened
“sorry to bother you, but i’m just curious, what are you working on?” you said, immediately becoming shy
he chuckled
“it’s fine. i was just working on a song. i’m a music production major.” he said, scratching the back of his neck
“can i listen? uh, that’s if you’re okay with that.” you blushed
“you’re in luck, i just finished!” he beamed, gesturing you to sit next to him
“wow his smile makes him even cuter.” you thought to yourself
you got up and took a sit next to him as he slid over to give you room
you looked at his laptop, looking at the different audio clips that were stacked on top of each other
you put the headphones on as you pressed play
listening to the music, you enjoyed the instrumentals as you bobbed your head to the beat
then you heard a voice singing
it sounded angelic, soothing really
“is that you singing? it’s beautiful.” you admitted, making chan blush a little as he smiled
the song ended, and you were left in amazement
“that was spectacular chan!” you told him
“really? thank you so much.”
and for the rest of the night you and chan got to know each other more
telling him about your major and whatnot
the both of you had laughs
he even offered to help you clean up
and even though you tried to refuse
his cute begging suddenly became your weakness as you gave in
you had a great time with chan
until it was closing time
“thank you for keeping me company while i worked.” chan said
“it was nothing.” you smiled as you slung your backpack over your shoulders as you closed the cafe
ever since that night, chan would come into the cafe and worked on his music until it was closing time
and you would do your homework with him
getting up on rare occasions whenever a customer or two walked in
there would also be times where you would have to wake chan up
telling him to go home and rest
but he was stubborn, telling you he’s going to keep working until the cafe closed
and you can’t really fight this cute guy
nor your rapidly beating heart
not only did chan become a regular
but he became a good friend
a few weeks later, the fifa world cup ended
which means the district cafe became busier
but it didn’t stop chan from walking in and ordering his usual americano and sitting down to work
he would notice how you would smile to every customer as you talked to them
and your small conversations with them
chan though you were cute and kind
and developed a huge crush on you
one day, you were working and before chan came in around his usual time, you had a customer who was friends with him
“vanilla bean latte for jisung!” you called out
jisung approached the counter, grabbing his drink
“thank you..” he said before looking at your name tag
“y/n - wait! you’re y/n?!” he exclaimed
“y-yes?” you responded, feeling a little nervous
“i’m friends with chan, and boy does he talk about you a lot.”
“he does?” you blushed
“yeah! he keeps talking about this cute cafe worker that he’s practically whipped for. no wonder his lyrics have been so sappy lately.”
“he likes me?” you asked him
“big time. anyways i’ve got to go, it was nice meeting you y/n.” he waved, leaving the cafe
as if he didn’t just expose his best friend
you blushed at the thought of chan liking you
you went through the rest of your shift with an extra bright smile of your face
chan walked in, which made your heart go !!!!
“hey y/n!” he smiled
which made you smile
“hey chan, let me guess, americano?”
he nodded as he placed the usual five dollar bill in front of you
as you entered his order, you looked at him
noticing the dark circles around his eyes
“chan, when’s the last time you’ve slept?” you said, catching his attention
he looked at you
“how long ago was january?”
you looked at him with wide eyes
“bang chan!” you said as you got started on his drink
“oops?” he nervously chuckled
“seriously, you need to rest. how could i have not known you haven’t been sleeping after you leave the cafe?” you said as you placed the lid on the cup, giving it to him
hours passed by as the cafe slowed down to the point where no one was coming in
and yet there chan was, sitting on his laptop
you sighed as you went into the back to grab your things
until you heard a loud thump
you quickly walked to the front to see chan’s head on top of the table
“oh my god.” you said, running towards him and taking the seat next to him
you shook chan a few times
“wake up! bang chan!”
he managed to lift his head up and leaned onto you
placing his head on your shoulder while asleep
your eyes widened as you felt his heavy head relax onto you
then you heard muttering
you turned your head to see bang chan slightly open his mouth
“y/n...y/n...why do you have to be so pretty?”
you almost choked on your own spit
“y/n, don’t smile at that handsome guy, smile only at me.” he softly said, sounding jealous
which made you smile to yourself
“shut up jisung, i’m not whipped for y/n. it’s not my fault i like her so much.”
you sighed
it was almost closing time
and you had to go home
“bang chan!” you yelled in his ear
scaring him as he jumped
“i’m awake!”
you shook your head
“how long was i out?” he asked
you smirked
“long enough to talk about your feelings for me in your sleep.” you said
making chan’s eyes pop out of his head
“what?! uh, y/n, i can explain-” he started
you interrupted him by planting your lips on top of his
chan melted into the kiss, smiling as he kissed you back
you pulled back
“don’t worry chan, i like you too - a lot actually.”
“you do?”
“yes you dummy. now can we get up because it’s closing time.”
chan looked outside the windows to see it filled with darkness
“only if i can crash at your dorm.”
“of course, let’s go so you can sleep.” you demanded
“yes ma’am.” he said as he got up, planting another kiss on your lips
“oh, and chan?”
“yeah?”
“you taste like americano.”
132 notes · View notes
svtntntn · 6 years ago
Text
jukebox!!
greaser!seokmin x waitress!you
Tumblr media
THE PERFECT GIF
inspo: seokmin during booseoksoon's 'just do it' and call call call promos
seokmin studies at the diner on the corner of the street, ordering a single milkshake everyday he’s there and choosing his favorite song from the jukebox
tbh, lee seokmin shouldn't even be in the SVT gang to begin with
he fell into it by accident bc he was jeonghan's assigned mentee from a mentorship program at school and jeonghan called him as a last resort when he and joshua needed help with something
so he did so, and when seungcheol offered him a spot in SVT, he accepted it bc he's loyal and devoted to his mentor and friends, no matter what trouble they're causing
bc now they're in it together!
SVT are the greasers that run the eastern part of town, organizing bike races, causing mayhem and chaos, basically acting as delinquents in school and in town
it's kinda a surprise to everyone at school that seokmin's a part of SVT, but with SVT second-in-command yoon jeonghan as his assigned mentor and his friends being in SVT as well, it was only a matter of time
seokmin's typically tagging stuff with hansol and soonyoung or riding his bike into the school parking lot with mingyu and minghao
he's tried to study with the rest of the guys before their meetings but they're all so loud and rambunctious that he needs his own study space
after classes, seokmin frequents this one specific diner near the eastern/western border of the town for one thing and one thing only: strawberry milkshakes
he gets his favorite strawberry milkshake with the perfect dollop of whipped cream and a shiny red cherry on top while he studies in a corner booth right next to the jukebox, where he can easily slip in a quarter into the machine and request his favorite songs to hum as he does his homework
the diner's patrons love love love hearing him sing as he re-writes his chem notes, his own high notes reaching every corner of the diner till he's met with a small chorus of applause
it's not until afterwards when they notice the back of his leather jacket do their breaths hitch and the whispers start circulating around the room
you don't really know why that happens tho
you just notice no matter what, the man who always orders the same strawberry milkshake everyday wears his leather jacket with pride everyday
you’ve been working at the diner for awhile now, since you just moved into town with your family
and your eyes always catch the handsome man sitting by his lonesome in the same booth by the jukebox
and you want to say something to him, but nothing comes to mind when you stop by his table except, "enjoy your milkshake" and he gives you a small smile and a grateful "thank you" back
your co-worker seungkwan always tries to hype you up to get you to say anything to seokmin
bc he's in seokmin's choir class and knows that he's a super sweet guy who would like you back
so bc you're not very good at articulating your words, you decide to write on the back of his receipt instead
you decide write something simple: 'you have a beautiful voice:) -(y/n)'
you give seokmin his receipt after he pays and he thanks you, pocketing the scrap of paper and exiting the diner with his backpack
when you walk back to seungkwan, he just scolds for you being too subtle whilst saying you have to do something bold and get his attention
but you're not all into being bold and brash (hahahaha) so you brush off your crush as just being that: a harmless crush
it's not until seokmin's at home and he's emptying his jacket pockets does he notice your note
he saves it in his notebook and it definitely sets his mood for the entire day:)
when he ventures over to the diner the next day, he recognizes you standing at the jukebox with a quarter in your hands
you're perusing the jukebox's library when someone taps your shoulder, scaring you and making you drop the coin
"sorry!" seokmin drops down and gets the coin for you, handing it back to you
he glances at the catalogue set on the very last page, "hard time choosing a song?"
you nod, "especially since I have never heard of most of these"
"you've never?" seokmin's surprised, but he smiles warmly at you, "I guess we're gonna have to fix that!"
he fishes around in his backpack and pulls out a little coin purse, entering his own quarters in the machine and pressing in combination after combination for several songs, "these first few are my personal favorite, then I'm just setting the jukebox to play other tracks I like"
you nod and you ask him what song to use your quarter for, "save it for when you find a song you really like" 
he slides into his usual booth and you pocket the quarter, choosing to take his advice
"so, just a strawberry milkshake then?" you ask him expectantly, shooting him a wide smile
"yes please" seokmin nods as he pulls out his notebook and study material
you put in his order and wait on other tables, helping an elderly couple two booths down and a rowdy bunch of guys seokmin recognizes from another school at a table near his own
the group of rowdy guys continue to shout above the music from the jukebox, jeering at each other and catcalling at you when you walk by
you try to your hardest to be polite and tell them to keep it down as to not disrupt the other diners, but they brush off your warnings 
and seokmin's just trying to study and listen to the music, especially since he wanted to you to listen to the songs he loves too but he can clearly see that the boys are making you v uncomfortable
so he goes up to the table and asks them to either keep it down and stop catcalling you or apologize to everyone and leave the diner asap
seokmin pulls all his moves from when he's seen seungcheol and jihoon act intimidating to other rude ppl when they're out and about
he also makes sure to take his time walking back to his own table, letting the boys stare in shock at the SVT initials on the back of his jacket
needless to say, the boys pay their bill and leave right when you come back from the kitchen with seokmin's milkshake, all the boys bowing to you in apology and cowering from seokmin's glare
when you appear at his table, his glare melts into a cheerful smile, "thank you (y/n)!"
you then help the elderly couple at their booth, who both have been watching everything go down, "excuse me miss, can I pay for that boy's milkshake? tell him that the world needs more people like him" the old man smiles
you nod to him, "sure, let me fix your bill for you" 
on the couple's way out, the elderly man tips his hat at seokmin, who gives him a bright smile but is terribly confused on the inside
when you venture back to seokmin, he's ready to pay for his bill when you show him the paid receipt and relay him the man’s message to him, "they said that the world needs more people like you"
the message clicks in seokmin's head and he looks down at his notebook modestly, "oh"
and of course, you've already caught on to what the old man meant, "thank you for helping me deal with those boys"
he immediately shakes his head, "oh! no no no, it's no big deal! you just looked uncomfortable and they were being jerks to you and—"
"no, it really means a lot to me, thank you..." you assure your gratitude to him with a kind smile and you pause for his name
and now seokmin's just staring at you bc wow your smile is really beautiful and the sunlight from the blinds make your hair shine and your eyes sparkle and wait, were you asking for his name? shoot—"oh! sorry, I'm seokmin!"
"I'm (y/n), nice to meet you" 
a light bulb goes off in his head, "(y/n)! you wrote me that note!" he pulls out the receipt from his notebook and you blush now
"I did write that, yes"
"I'm sure you have a beautiful voice too" you shake your head no, but seokmin disagrees with you, "you do! just listening to you right now, I can tell you have a beautiful voice, are you sure you're not an angel?"
okay, that was something he definitely learned from his mentor jeonghan and now you're DEFINITELY flushed
you don't know what to do at this point but you hear the jukebox stop playing music, "ah, the jukebox! it stopped! I-I should play something!"
seokmin chuckles at you and helps you choose more songs to play, using his own money again and packing up his things
"I'll see you tomorrow, (y/n)?"
you smile at him, "with one strawberry milkshake ready for you"
seokmin's on cloud nine the rest of his night
even when he's out with hansol and joshua tagging buildings and whatnot, all he can do is draw little hearts as you cross his mind
as the next couple of days roll by, you've developed a love for a lot of the songs on the jukebox
specifically all of the songs that seokmin recommends
and all the love songssss;)
seungkwan notices the little skip in your step as you wait on tables while the same five songs from the jukebox play
he nudges your elbow as he punches in another receipt on the register when you're next to him, "you're staring at the door again"
 you straighten up next to him, trying to find something to fuss with instead of staring at the entrance for seokmin to come in, "am not"
"you are too, and I'm getting tired of the same songs playing, would it kill you to change it up? I get that they're all seokmin's favorites, but he's not here right now"
"fineeee"
when seokmin does come in, seungkwan tries to joking go to his table to serve him, but you race over instead
seokmin's order is still the same and you try to stop by his table as much as you can without getting in trouble or neglecting other customers
he always sings out loud to the songs you've tuned on the jukebox and it brings such a smile to your face to hear him sing
gosh you love his voice
you both bond over music really well and when the diner's empty and it's just you and seokmin (and seungkwan occasionally), you all sing out loud and dance around the diner
you always write on the back of seokmin's receipts still, trying to make the note different each time 
'how much does a polar bear weigh? enough to break the ice! I hope this makes you smile! -(y/n)'
'the ladies at the counter are talking about how handsome you are, and I have to agree ahaha -(y/n)'
'you sing everything so well, how!! -(y/n)'
'have you ever tried anything different at this diner? hahah -(y/n)'
'these milkshakes are as sweet as you -(y/n)'
gosh, who is the actual greaser? him or you?? who knows ahah
seokmin saves all of these receipts in his notebook and they've become one of his most treasured items
his small crush on you during the beginning of your relationship has developed into a major major crush on you
and your so-called harmless crush has snowballed into you liking seokmin so much you can’t get him out of your head
and bc you’re way more confident on paper than in person, you decide to ask him out through your receipt notes!
that same day, you deliver your receipt to seokmin just as one of the members from SVT rushes past you and grabs his arm
seokmin is surprised to see chan at the diner, but all he mutters is "emergency meeting!" and he packs up his papers, stuffing your receipt in his notebook quickly
"sorry (y/n)!" he waves to you and leaves abruptly with his friend, making you slightly worried, but seungkwan assures you it's probably nothing serious
and honestly, it is nothing bc mingyu and wonwoo got into a fight with some guys of the west side gangs, but they're all well-rounded fighters so no major injuries occurred
but now there's a bike race going on between them and the other gang
"seokmin, are you listening?" seungcheol asks him, waving his hand in front of his zoned out state
"yes! I'm listening!" seokmin tunes back in and seungcheol continues on, "does anyone have a piece of paper I can borrow?"
seokmin pulls out his notebook and doesn't even notice your most recent note fall out, tearing out a clean sheet for seungcheol and stuffing his notebook back in his backpack
for awhile, seokmin doesn't return to the diner bc of the preparations for the race, making you even more worried that your note scared him off or made things awkward between you two
but when he does come back, everything is in perfect harmony like it was before, making you think he did read your note, but he obviously turned you down
so you try to move past it as best as you can, but you're still sad on the inside, which seokmin can kinda tell just by looking into your eyes
seokmin is super surprised to see his mentor sitting in his usual booth when he enters the diner, "jeonghan! what are you doing here?"
"just wanted to see where you get away to everyday before our meetings" jeonghan fusses with a toothpick, "why do you come here everyday?"
"I study here, that's it" seokmin answers, "I come here for the peace and quiet"
jeonghan raises an eyebrow at the words 'peace and quiet,' wordlessly pointing out the noisy jukebox next to him belting another song (his favorite song actually) and the sizzle and hissing of the grill behind the kitchen, while seungkwan and you take the orders of other customers in the diner with such vibrancy and pep
"okay, I come for the milkshakes"
"hi seokmin, your usual" seokmin beams a smile at you as his milkshake is set down on the table
"thank you (y/n)" his eyes trail after you as you go to other tables, jeonghan clearing his throat with a obvious cough, "so you come here for that cute waitress?"
"(y/n) is just a friend"
"do you like her?"
seokmin ponders it for a moment before a smile spreads on his face, he can’t lie to his mentor, his older brother figure, "yes, yes I do like her"
"do you think she likes you?" seokmin shakes his head, mumbling a "no" before changing it to an unconfident "maybe?"
"seokmin, she definitely likes you" jeonghan plucks the cherry off the whipped cream and into his mouth 
seokmin frowns and pulls his shake closer to him protectively
"no other waitress writes little notes on the back of receipts for you. I saw all the receipts in your notebook, they're cute and affectionate love notes" jeonghan flicks the small piece of paper towards him, "you probably didn’t even read the back of this receipt" 
seokmin reads the note from you asking him out and his mouth forms the shape of an 'O' 
'seokmin, would you like to go out on a date? possibly, tomorrow night? if not, that's okay! you can ignore this and I'll forget I even wrote this! -(y/n)'
"don’t come to the meeting tonight" jeonghan removes the cherry stem (a perfectly knotted stem) from his mouth, "I'll tell seungcheol you're studying for an exam"
he claps seokmin on the shoulder and exits the diner as you go over to seokmin and ask if he's alright bc this boy is still in disbelief
"yES! uh, yes! I'm alright!" seokmin clears his throat, "(y/n)! will you go out with me tonight?"
"huh? yes, of course, is something happening?" 
the bells go off in seokmin’s head as he grins madly, "perfect! meet me outside the diner at 7! what you’re wearing is fine!" he rushes out the door and now you’re the one in shock and disbelief
by the time 7pm rolls around, the sun is setting and you’re kinda getting cold just standing outside for seokmin to arrive
and without avail, the man of your dreams the hour rolls into the parking lot on his bike, taking off his helmet (safety first!) and offering you a helping hand on his bike
you climb aboard and hold on to seokmin tightly as he brings you to the more abandoned part of town, where there’s plenty of tagged buildings and such
seokmin pulls up to one particular building and covers your eyes as you get off the bike, "I obviously sing better than I draw, but ta da!"
and on the side of the building is a picture of what looks to be the outside of the diner? complete with a little ‘open’ sign and everything??
he guides you along to another wall where he painted a fake jukebox and his fake corner booth complete with a milkshake on the table but with two straws in the shake
and there below the faux jukebox is a picnic set for two ppl with candles set up on the concrete and a small stereo with your favorite songs playing
"I wanted to stay inside the diner, but you must get tired of being there everyday so, I re-created it here! it’s not exactly the same—I mean this might be illegal? and the paint is still kinda fresh—but it’s drying and I tried fixing us up something but it’s not exactly perfect—"
you laugh as seokmin rambles on, "seokmin, this is wonderful!" your heart is racing bc my goshhh it’s like a scene from a film! "no one’s ever gone through the trouble of doing all of this for me, thank you"
seokmin grins and you two eat the picnic dinner with all the romantic songs playing in the background, eventually laying down on the blanket together and staring up at the stars
you start singing along to the music and seokmin nearly falls asleep bc your voice is so soothing
a small snore escapes his lips and you nudge him bc you think you’re boring him with your singing
"just the opposite, told you you had the voice of an angel, angel" he winks just as you roll your eyes
he shrugs off his jacket and put it on your shoulders as you shiver, making you drown in his warmth and smell of his cologne
when seokmin takes you back home, he wraps his hand in yours and lingers on your doorstep for the longest time
he pouts as you try to pull away from him even when you don’t want to, "do you really have to go back to heaven?"
"still with the angel stuff?"
"baby, you are my angel"
ending notes: lee seokmin always goes to the diner for the milkshakes, but stays for you and your angelic voice (even if you don’t think so)
<3
319 notes · View notes
dewitty1 · 7 years ago
Note
My one follower recommended your page lol.I see your friends with lots of cool people and writers. how do you get to do that? Did you just talk to them? Im new on tumbler and love drarry. who are your biggest followers and friends? do they follow you by asking? who is good to follow? thank!
Hello there, Anon!I'm sorry I sat on your ask for a bit the real world got in my way and I didn't get a chance to get to it, plus I was mulling over how to answer for a bit, if I'm being completely honest (which if you decide to follow me, you'll see that I always am, sometimes to the point of brutality).
One follower??? How do you only have one follower? Come out from behind anon and say hello, I won’t bite! Well, you know, unless you’re into that sort of thing *rawrrrr*
How did I become friends with writers, you ask? Well, it was difficult for me. I was a lurker in the fandom for a long time. Meaning, I just read fics, and sometimes the comments, but I never had the nerve to comment myself. I didn't really know there was fandom activity on Tumblr until a few years ago(2014-ish), when I started looking for fic recs. So, I started following a bunch of Drarry Tumblr blogs, @goldentruth813 was one of the first authors and Drarry blogs I followed. She's great. From there I just started following other blogs, and authors who left their Tumblr links in their AO3 fic notes. 
But how did you get to talk to them, you ask??? Well, that's when I found out about the Drarry Discord chat from @carpemermaidtales! It's a good way for you to go and meet the authors,and other fandom people, because Tumblr is a terrible platform for actually having a conversation with people. I must warn you though,sometimes the chat can be very busy, and its hard to get a word in, and sometimes its very dead. It just really depends on your time zone, your working hours, your sleep habits, and whatnot. Also if may not be a good fit for you. It wasn't for me after a while. It can be overwhelming if you have social anxiety. Also,like any other place, it can be a bit cliquey. I don't think anyone does it on purpose. It's just how people are. Everyone is very nice, though. Hopefully me saying that out loud doesn't come back to bite me in the ass,but it probably will. 😬 Oh well, brutal honesty, right? Also, the Discord is great for you if you're working on writing yourself. They have all kinds of great helpful things there, activity rooms, production sprints, Brit picking, fest talk, beta help, and cool stuff like that. So, its a good place overall, really. Ok, biggest followers and friends-Well the friend I’ve had the longest here would be Dave, aka @pleasantlyhumongouspizza. We’ve been friends since I got on twitter in 2008 or so. He’s even on my Facebook (YIKES) so he really knows too much about me.My Tumblr daughter is @rose-grangerweasleyisbae. I scolded her about not doing homework or something on one of her drabbles, and I’ve been Tumblr Mom ever since.She’s a good daughter! And a fabulous writer! Her work is really coming along well. I’m uber proud of her, as if I were really her mom. I don’t mind being called Mom. I’m open for more youngins to come talk to me. I’ve since been adopted by a few more - @oolaan (vents to me very often. I try to give good advice.) & @chaoticbong (shes buckling down and studying hard on hiatus right now).Other good friends -Sam - @xx-thedarklord-xx Love her writing! It’s almost always fluffy. She does not do much angst or character death (like once and it STILL had a happy ending). And of course you can’t have Sam without Ren her bestie, @rmh8402, she ships Drarry, but also Frostiron (Tony Stark/Loki) so be warned, there. She works nights  here in the USA so can be hard to catch if you want to talk but usually has good stuff on her blog.Then there’s one of my favorite authors @lqtraintracks, who write fab fics, usually with amazing smut, and her girlfriend, @whipmyhairlikebangbang, who shares my love of Gal Gadot, and is a fic writer herself.Can’t forget @femmequixotic & @noeeon a couple who is definitely GOALS if there ever was. Love them both! And their Erised fic last year was AMAZE! OMG! Also if you’re not reading Tales From The Special Branch Series, then what are you doing?Another power couple I love would be @camael-fanart & @skarhead. I don’t talk to them as much as I’d like, unfortunately, but you definitely need to follow them if you aren’t.If you’re not following @llap115 then you are really missing out on a good fandom friend too. Amazing art, and very supportive.Another fab friend and artist is @scarlet47. Lover her, her art rocks. Also she posts kittens, lol...Then there’s my favorite kitten (*only I can call her that though mmmkay?) @parkkate. Lovely, gorgeous, friend, that I keep curled up in my pocket, safe and warm. Oh and she writes as well, lol....My lovely Aussies- @jadepresley who was the first fic writer to follow me back and I think I screamed out loud and startled my cat. @queenofthyme who has probably the best blog, and writes lovely fluffy works as well. @henrymercury, gorgeous Hannah who sings like an angel and rocks a fantastic suit, not to mention writes some great fics. Oh and follow @fleamontpotter for hilarious comics.Follow @bixgirl1 and for great writing as well - Lemme tell you, The Claiming of Grimmauld Place - I was trying to tell my son how funny Paul was, about him eating Bertie Bott’s and calling our boys “Fruckers”, watching them shag, lol... I about died laughing and he just looked at me like I was nuts. LOL.You really can’t have Bix and not have @l0vegl0wsinthedark. It’d be like popcorn and no butter or salt. Blegh. L0ve is an awesome writer too, and has a great blog. 
Okay from here I think I’ll just post other blogs I think you should follow because this post is really long, lol---
@staganddragon Love her, but we don’t talk enough anymore, and i miss her A LOT!! Same goes for @pukingpastilles @puking-pastilles. Follow @insufferable-git aka @scarheads-malfoy because Rachel is beautiful inside and out and her Draco is perfect. Follow @jesreally & @askdoratonks Because Jes is lovely and does amazing RP though we’ve never talked. If you want leftist political stuff (I DO) follow @eidheann, butshe posts other interesting things too, though if you follow me I usually just reblog her anyway, lol. Follow @magpiefngrl for more fab Drarry writing, as well as @callingdrarry and also because Gracie is hella funny, and I adore her to bits. If you like cool Aesthetic stuff as well as interesting HP rarepairs follow @untilourapathy, Gwen is fab tooo! I’ve probably left a bunch out and have made someone feel bad because I did and if so I’m sorry, but my brain is shit, because I don’t sleep. and it’s basically filled with song lyrics, and movie quotes, and other uselesstrash that nobody cares about. So anon, I REALLY hop that gives you a good idea about who to follow, because if not, then IDEKWTF to tell you, lol...
for now BUH BYE!
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halo-of-honey · 7 years ago
Text
The Florist and the Chief, Pt. 2
Jim Hopper x Original Fem. Character
Synopsis: Mac has to make a choice she doesn't want to make. But not making it could ruin everything.
Words: 8,562
Notes: Here is the sequel! I snuck in a cheeky little 80s reference I’m sure no one will get. But if you wanna know the answer, message me OR check out the end notes on AO3! I also promised to tag @coolyoungbouquetdestinylove.
Part 1
[[ Read on AO3! ]]
A young woman stood on the deck of a small cottage overlooking a pond. The sun was beginning to rise and she watched as a morning fog rose from the surface of the water. A loon glided elegantly by, softly wailing in the haze. The spring air was chilly on her bare legs, sending a shiver up her spine. She pulled the collar of the oversized flannel shirt she was wearing up around her chin, breathing in it’s musky scent. Behind her in the bedroom, a man stirred awake realizing the young woman was no longer there.
“Mac?” he mumbled into the dim room.
Hawkins Police Chief, Jim Hopper pawed at the sheets, searching blindly for the young woman who he thought had been there moments ago. When his large hand didn’t find her, he sat up on one elbow and squinted groggily around the room. Across from the bed, he noticed the door to the deck was slightly ajar. A cool breeze from outside was ruffling the long curtains that blocked out the light. Hopper swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, reaching for a pair of jeans discarded on the floor.
The Chief pulled on the jeans, but didn’t bother zipping or buttoning them. He shuffled shirtless towards the open door and pulled back the curtain. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he finally found the person he was looking for. Hopper took a moment to admire the young woman standing on the deck. Even after more than a year he was still blown away by how beautiful she was. He had to remind himself every day that she was just as attracted to him.
“Mac? What’re you doin’ up so early?” Hopper mumbled as he stepped out onto the deck.
Mackenna Kinney glanced over her shoulder, her auburn hair catching the light, “Hmm? Sorry, go back to bed. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Did you sleep at all last night?”
“A few hours.”
“Mackenna...” Hopper reproved. He came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist, “You need to rest.”
Mac leaned her head against Hopper’s chest, “I know, I just got caught up with work.”
“I know this is your dream or whatever, but you haven’t gotten a full night’s sleep in over a month.”
“I’m alright, Hop. This is what I want.”
“That’s what worries me.”
Mac twisted so she was facing him and stretched up on her toes, placing a sweet kiss on Hopper’s lips, “The semester is almost over. I’ll get some rest then.”
“That’s a month away.”
Hopper growled as Mac’s hand snuck down the front of his jeans and into his underwear. Her silvery blue eyes almost deepened in color as she watched his reaction to her touch. She liked the softer side of Hopper, the side not many people got to see. But she had to admit she loved his rougher side, too. The way he looked at her like he wanted to eat her alive. She pressed her palm down his member, a small smirk playing across her lips when it twitched. Hopper’s eyes fluttered shut.
“Damn, woman. You’re just...trying to distract me.” he struggled to say, a low rumble in his chest. “We can’t...anyway...El’s here.”
“Nope, I dropped her off at the Byers’ last night. Remember?” Mac clarified. “We’re all alone.”
Hopper grinned, “Well then...in that case.”
✧✧✧✧
“Okay, alright you two. Come on! Come sit! I have an announcement.” Mac said, herding Hopper and El to take a seat on the living room couch.
“Mac, the potatoes are going to burn in the oven if I don’t take them out!” Hopper protested.
They all looked over as the oven door opened, three baked potatoes floated out and landed with a soft, slightly crispy plop on the stovetop. Hopper shot El a look and she shrugged silently, moving to curl up on the couch. Outside a large blanket of snow slid off the cabin roof followed by a gust of frigid air that swept through the room from the gaps in the windows. It was as if the tiny cabin shivered in the presence of El’s powers.
“Thanks, El.” Mac smiled. “Now come on, sit! Sit!”
Once they were both sitting Mac stayed standing in front of them, pacing and wringing her fingers. El’s eyes followed the young woman go back and forth across the well worn carpet as if she was watching a tennis match. Hopper waited patiently for a few moments until his stomach rumbled hungrily. He had gotten home late for dinner and was starving. Mac had been so anxious about her announcement she forgot about dinner until Hopper knocked on the door.
“What’s the big deal, Mac?” Hopper asked finally.
“Well, you know how I’ve always wanted to become a biology teacher?” Mac said, chewing her lip. “But I never got to continue my degrees and whatnot.”
“Right?”
“Well...old Ms. Radcliff finally decided to take her retirement at the end of this school year.”
“Really? I thought she would’ve stayed at that school until she literally died behind her desk.” Hopper commented under his breath.
Mac shot him a look and he shrugged, “But anyway, the school has started searching for a replacement to start in the fall. I applied as soon as I saw the listing in the paper. I’m not exactly qualified but I could be...and well, they hired me!”
Hopper and El’s faces both lit up, “Wow, hun! That’s great!” Hopper said.
“Yes...exciting.” El agreed, looking proud of herself for picking out the correct word.
“Right well, I’ll have to start night courses now to get my teaching certification. Then when that’s done I can consider starting a masters degree or skip right to a PhD program.”
“P-H-D?” El inquired.
Mac smiled, “It means I’ll be a doctor. But not a medical doctor or a mind doctor like the one Will sees. I’ll be a doctor of science.” she explained.
El squirmed excitedly, “Bitchin!”
Hopper and Mac laughed, “Yes, it will be pretty bitchin if I can pull it off.”
“I’m very excited for you, Mac. This is great news!” Hopper said, standing to go to her.
“I know, it’s going to be so much work but I feel like it’s what I need to do.”
Hopper pulled Mac into a warm hug and gave her a kiss on the lips. Moments later, El came over to stretch her arms as far around the two of them as she could. Mac freed an arm of her own to put around El’s shoulders. She couldn’t think of a time when she was happier in her life. It had taken her a long time but Mac was finally getting around to fulfilling her dreams. She would have to give up the florist shop, but she knew her grandfather would have supported her choice if he was still alive.
A loud, rolling grumble sounded from Hopper’s belly and El giggled, “Can we eat now?” he asked.
Mac rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling when she said, “Yes, Jim. We can eat now.”
✧✧✧✧
Hopper traced lazy circles on Mac’s bare back. She was lying on her stomach with her head on a pillow, gazing sleepily up at Hopper. He smiled down at her, leaning to kiss her forehead and then pulled the sheets up around her waist. Mac was struggling to stay awake, even though it was almost half-past eight in the morning. Granted she hadn’t slept much the night before and the roll in the sheets with Hopper wasn’t helping.
“Sleep, Mac. I can go pick up El before I stop over at the station.” Hopper mumbled to her.
“I have to study...and I have homework to grade.”
Hopper leaned to kiss Mac’s shoulder, “You spent all night studying. And besides, it’s Saturday. I want you to sleep for a couple more hours. Then you can go back to work.” he insisted.
“But there’s so much to do...the house is a mess.”
“El can clean the house. She should really start having chores, anyway.”
Mac’s eyes slowly sunk shut, “I guess I could sleep for a few hours...” she mumbled.
Hopper smoothed his hand over her hair, “Just sleep, hun. I’ll be home for lunch.”
“Mhm...” Sleep started to take Mac away, but she remembered one more thing. “I told Joyce...pick El up at nine.”
“Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. Just sleep.”
✧✧✧✧
“Well it’s done. I sign over the deed to the shop next week sometime.”
Hopper could tell by the slump of Mac’s shoulders and the way she picked at the cocktail napkin under her beer that she was not looking forward to that event. As excited as she was to start her new job at the high school and the PhD program she’d been accepted to only a few days before, it was clear letting go of the florist was going to be the hardest part. He knew she was brilliant enough to take the other parts in stride. But the shop had been a part of her for almost as long as she’d been alive.
The couple had met for a drink after Hopper got off his shift one summer evening. The bar was mostly dead, as it almost always was, but there were a handful of college boys in the back playing rounds of darts. It was much too early for them to be drunk, but they were getting a little rowdy. Every few minutes, one of them would shout and attract the attention of the few other patrons in the bar. Hopper wondered if he should say something to them.
“At least it’s someone you trust. I’m sure Mr. Krelborn will take really good care of it.” Hopper offered.
Mac chewed on the inside of her cheek, “Yeah...he said he wouldn’t change much. He even talked about buying new state of the art refrigerators. You know, the ones I couldn’t afford?” she said.
He reached out to rub her back, “It’ll be okay, Mac. Once you get going with all the other stuff, you’ll forget all about the shop.”
“I hope I don’t. I don’t want to forget it.”
“Well...you know what I meant.” Hopper replied, feeling like he said the wrong thing. “You won’t forget, it just won’t worry you as much.”
Mac nodded meekly, “Right...yeah.”
Mac took a pull from her beer, her gaze drifting over to the young men in the back and Hopper tried not to sigh. It bothered him seeing her this depressed. He hadn’t seen her so upset since the time Billy Hargrove nearly strangled her to death the winter before. It took over a week for her to get back to herself after that incident. Hopper wanted to help her feel better, but wasn’t sure how. He worried that his plans for their anniversary coming up might not go over well if she was still down about the shop.
“Alright, well come on. Let’s go pick up some ice cream and we can be fat and watch a movie.” Hopper said, pulling out his wallet to toss a couple bills on the bar.
Mac gave him a weak smile, took another big gulp of her beer, then slid off her stool, “What movie?”
“Lady’s choice.”
Hopper winked at her as he reached for her. Mac rolled her eyes, but her smile got a little bigger. If there was something Hopper knew about his girlfriend, it was that she was a sucker for his gentler side. He slipped his arm around her waist and guided her out of the bar. As they headed down the sidewalk to the store, she leaned her head against his shoulder. It’s a start, Hopper thought to himself.
✧✧✧✧
Mac jolted awake a little over an hour after Hopper insisted she sleep. Outside the bedroom door, something was scratching softly at the floor. They didn’t have any pets, so for a moment Mac worried that a stray animal had gotten into the cottage somehow. Drool was crusted on Mac’s chin and she reached to push her hair out of her face when she sat up. She had gotten it cut to about shoulder length in the fall after another teacher suggested keeping it short would deter head lice. So she was still getting used to keeping it tamed.
“El? Is that you?” Mac called from the bed.
“Yes, sorry Mac.” El answered on the other side of the door. “I was trying to be quiet like Hop said.”
“What are you doing?”
“Sweeping.”
Mac smiled to herself and let out a breath, “Have you picked up the living room?”
“Yes,”
“And the dishes?”
There was a pause in the scratching on the floor, “No...” El answered finally.
“Alright, well let me jump in the shower and then I’ll come help you.”
“Hop told me not to let you do that. He made me promise.” El replied.
Mac rolled her eyes, “Did he now? What exactly did he say?” she asked, knowing El could repeat back word for word what he told her.
“El, you must not let Mac do any housework. I want you to take care of all of it. Let her sleep.”
“What else?”
El hesitated again, “Nothing...”
Mac climbed out of the bed and pulled on Hopper’s flannel shirt again, going to open the door, “What else El?” she said, looking the girl in the eye.
“He said, ‘Use your powers to stop her if you have to.’” El answered, clutching the handle of the broom. “But I don’t think he meant it. Like he told me about how adults say things they don’t mean.”
“Right, you’re exactly right.”
Mac smiled even if she was a little miffed that Hopper would suggest that to the girl. There was no guarantee she would understand he was joking and the consequences would end with Mac held down in a chair by an invisible forcefield. A flash of that teenage boy getting tossed across Joyce Byers’ living room crossed her mind. She didn’t want to think about what that must’ve felt like.
“He said he’d be home at one-one...I mean, one-fifteen.” El continued.
Mac glanced back into the bedroom to the clock on the dresser, “Well then that gives us about three hours to get this house spick and span.”
“Spick and span?”
“Cleaned up.”
El nodded and smiled, “Spick and span.”
“Alright, again let me go jump in the shower. Then I’ll come see what needs to be done.”
✧✧✧✧
Hopper had big plans for his and Mac’s first anniversary. Though much to her frustration he insisted they were all a surprise. Hopper had to take care of a few things at the station before he came to pick her up, so Mac took her time getting ready in the morning. Of course, this led to a number of mishaps including tripping on the corner of the carpet and knocking over a vase of tiger lilies. When Hopper arrived at her apartment and let himself in with his spare key, she screeched and rushed into her bedroom.
“I’m not ready yet! Stay in the living room!” Mac called.
Hopper chuckled and stooped to pick up the heap of soggy paper towels Mac left on the floor, “What fought back this time?” he asked.
“Careful! There’s probably still glass. I had some lilies on the console behind the couch.”
“Are you almost ready? We have reservations.”
Mac raised an eyebrow at herself in the mirror as she dabbed on a little perfume, “Reservations? Really? Jim Hopper made dinner reservations?”
“Yes, it’s a special night. Doesn’t it call for reservations?” he asked, taking out a dustpan to sweep up the remaining pieces of glass.
“I suppose so, I’m just shocked is all.” Mac replied, stepping into the hall.
Hopper stood up straight and took her in, “Damn...”
She was wearing a robin’s egg blue empire waist dress patterned with white flowers. The bust criss-crossed and tied around her neck, showing off her freckled shoulders. She wore little white kitten heels and her legs looked incredible. At Hopper’s expression Mac blushed and dropped her eyes, recalling the way he looked at her the day they met. He didn’t look half bad himself in a tidy red shirt and black slacks.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” he said, striding over to wrap his arms around her.
Mac giggled as Hopper twirled her around, “Oh Jim, come on. You’re just trying to butter me up.”
“Maybe later.” Hopper replied with a wink. “For now, we have reservations!”
“Let me just finish cleaning up that vase, okay?”
“I already did.”
Mac smiled, “You’re too good to me, Jim Hopper.”
“And you’re too good for me, Mackenna Kinney.”
The couple headed out, Hopper driving Mac’s powder blue VW Beetle to the restaurant across town. When he parked, he jogged around to the passenger door to hold it open and help Mac climb out. As they walked down the sidewalk arm in arm, Mac realized what restaurant they were going to. It had only opened a few weeks before, but everyone in town was already raving about it. She had heard the chef came from Chicago and previously worked at a number of five star restaurants.
“Hop, isn’t this that new place? I heard it’s really expensive.” Mac mumbled.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s our anniversary.”
“I know...I just don’t want you breaking the bank just to take me out for a nice dinner. You know I’m happy just getting a burger down at Frankie’s.”
“We always go to the diner. I wanted this night to be different.” Hopper admitted.
As they got to the door, the host came to hold it open for them. Hopper ushered Mac in ahead of him, gentlemanly as always. The host quickly returned to his podium and scanned through his reservations book. When he found Hopper’s name, he smiled and then showed them to their table. It was only big enough for the two of them, with chairs on either side and was next to the plant-filled window. Fairy lights were strung around the room, giving everything a very intimate atmosphere.
Almost every table was filled and their waiter had to scoot around the room to avoid bumping into anyone. “May I get you anything to drink to start?” he asked when he reached their table, folding his hands politely in front of his black cumberbund.
“Uh, sure, yeah. What kind of wine would you recommend?” Hopper asked awkwardly.
“Well it would depend of course on what you’ll be having for dinner. But I can say if you prefer red wine, we have a lovely bottle of 1974 Catalans sangiovese. Or for white the 1980 Diamond Creek sauvignon blanc is excellent as well.”
Hopper hesitated, clearly out of his depth, “We’ll try the red.” he answered finally.
“Very good choice, sir.” the waiter said with a curt nod and then left them.
Mac was grinning at her beau when he looked back at her, “Very good choice, Chief.” she teased.
Hopper rolled his eyes, “Alright so I don’t know shit about wine.”
“It’s fine. I hardly do, myself.” she replied sweetly.
“Is red okay? Did you want white?”
“No, no red is fine.” Hopper let out a visible sigh, so Mac slid her hand across the table to cover his. “Hey, it’s fine. You did fine.”
Hopper smiled, twining his fingers into hers, “Sorry, I’m just a little nervous.”
“I can tell. What do you have to be nervous about? You know you don’t have to do fancy stuff to impress me. I love you just how you are.”
“I know, and I love you, too.” he said, pausing. “It’s nothing...I’m just not used to these uppity restaurants.”
“Again, Hop. We could’ve just gone down to the diner.”
“No, I want this to be special.”
“Okay, Jim. If you say so.” Mac said.
The waiter returned with their wine, pouring a small amount for Hopper to approve. Mac pressed her lips together, trying not to giggle as Hopper pretended like he knew what he was doing. He drank the whole glass in one big gulp, the waiter clearly taken aback, and then nodded roughly. The waiter forced a polite smile, poured them both a glass and then placed the rest of the bottle into the wine stand beside the table.
“Do you know what you would like?” the waiter asked.
The couple jumped, realizing they hadn’t yet looked at the menu, “Uh, no, can we have another minute?” Hopper answered curtly.
“Certainly, sir. I will return to take your orders shortly.”
When the waiter returned, they put in their orders and then Hopper sat back in relief. He was glad to be done with most of the formalities. Now he needed to prepare himself for what he had planned after dinner. That was what he was really nervous about. Watching Mac across the table as she glanced around the room, he couldn’t believe he had gotten this far with her. That even after everything -- his less than ideal figure, his age, and more importantly El and all the secrets that came with her -- Mac had stuck around.
“Have I ever told you how glad I am that you ran into me that day at the library?” Hopper asked suddenly.
Mac’s eyes locked on his, two pairs of burning blue flames in the dim room, “Yes, but you can tell me again.”
Her tone soothed him and he leaned forward to be closer to her, “I never thought I would love anyone again. Not after Diane and Sara. But I took in El and things were going well. And then you turned up. You were so eager to take time out of your day to help me find a book. The hot, young thing that you are interested in me. A fat old man.”
Mac’s cheeks flushed, knowing the gravity behind his words if he spoke his deceased daughter’s name aloud. “You’re not that fat or old.” she mumbled, smiling.
“Well either way, you changed my life. I thought I’d be fine raising El on my own, but you’ve made it a million times better.” Hopper finished.
“Oh, Hop...” Mac cooed, holding back tears. “I worked so hard on my makeup tonight. You’re gonna make me ruin it!”
Hopper laughed, “I love you, Mackenna. Always.”
Mac stretched across the table to kiss Hopper, smiling into his lips. “I love you, too Jim.”
✧✧✧✧
The cottage on the pond had many faults. The floorboards were somewhat creaky, some of the doors didn’t always latch all the way, and the stairs down to the cellar could test even a sober man’s balance. But the one thing Mac had to give it was that no matter what, there was always hot water. When her coworkers and friends complained of freezing pipes and calling plumbers in the middle of the night, Mac couldn’t sympathize. She knew that when she stepped into her shower, it would be gloriously hot and stay that way the whole time.
Mac enjoyed the little things. As long as she had a roof over her head, a hot shower, and the man she loved in her bed she was a happy woman. All the while, she was practical and appreciated a clean home and a solid to-do list. She stood in the shower, shampooing her hair and thinking about everything she needed to do that day. Eventually she turned off the water and pushed back the curtain. When she stepped out of the tub though, she had to reach out and grab the towel rod as the room spun suddenly. It was made of plastic and cracked almost instantly, sending Mac crashing to the floor.
She landed hard on her wrist, elbow, and hip, but managed to keep her head off the tiles. For a moment she sat there, arm stinging and in shock. She didn’t think she felt so dizzy in the shower. But now that she was down there on the floor, her head did feel a little woozy. Carefully she stood up, using the vanity to help stabilize her. She gripped it hard as blood rushed to her head again, though she managed to stay on her feet this time. El started knocking on the bedroom door.
“Mac? What was that? Are you okay?” she called from the hallway.
After El had almost walked in on Mac and Hopper having an intimate moment, they had to make it a rule that she needed to knock before entering someone’s bedroom. If she didn’t receive the go ahead to come in, she had to stay in the hall. Only if she thought it was an absolute emergency was she to let herself in. Fortunately they had never really needed to enforce the rule, but El followed it nonetheless.
“I’m fine, sweetheart. Just slipped on the rug.” Mac called back.
“Okay...” El replied.
Mac lifted her arm, wincing when she saw the blood running down her arm. It appeared that when the towel rod broke, it slashed into the side of her forearm leaving a line of shallow scratches. She made quick work bandaging herself up as she had injured herself in similar ways many times before. But it bothered her that this time wasn’t just because of her clumsiness. Although she knew exactly why she fell, she wasn’t prepared to admit it quite yet.
Once she was bandaged and dressed, Mac found El in the kitchen already elbow deep in a sinkful of grey, sudsy water. From what she could tell, El was just moving the dishes around under the water and not actually washing them. The girl looked over her shoulder, a suspicion in her eyes only an old soul could muster. It was as if she knew Mac had lied to her about slipping on the rug. Mac tried to ignore it.
“Are you washing those dishes or just teaching them how to swim?” Mac asked, moving to stand next to the sink.
“How do you wash dishes?”
“Well first of all, drain some of that water.” Mac instructed. “You don’t need so much. Maybe only half the sink.”
El nodded, her arm moving as she searched for the drain plug, “Then what?”
“Then you take the sponge and you use it to clean all the food off. When there’s no more food, you rinse the dish under the tap and put it here on this towel” Mac explained, laying out a clean dishcloth on the counter next to the sink.
“Okay...”
El got to work scrubbing and Mac dried and put the dishes away. It didn’t take long for El to clean them all. She drained the rest of the water from the sink, then helped Mac putting them away. Mac could tell El was eying her bandaged arm, which stuck out slightly from the end of her rolled up shirtsleeves. She wanted to assure El that it was a minor injury, but she also didn’t want to draw any more attention to it than what was absolutely necessary.
“What now?” El asked finally when all the dishes were neatly in their cabinets.
Mac ran through the list she had made in her head, “Did you clean your room?”
El nodded, “Yes.”
“Water the plants?”
“Yes.”
“Do your homework?”
El hesitated, “Most of it.” she answered slowly.
“Well, go get it and meet me in my study. We’ll do our homework together.”
“But Hop said...”
Mac ground her teeth, “I know what he said. But it’s okay. Now go get your homework.”
El didn’t move until Mac gave her a pointed look. Then she rushed off to her bedroom to do as she was told. Mac still hadn’t gotten used to being a parental figure in El’s life. She didn’t exactly enjoy laying down the law, but she knew if she wanted to be with Hopper this was what she would need to do every once in a while. Fortunately El was a pretty well behaved child and the few times when she did push back were usually directed at Hopper.
Mac sighed and ran her fingers over the bandages on her arm. She was still so tired, but there was so much work to do. She wondered if Hopper was right, maybe she was overworking herself. But this is what she wanted, to finally get her PhD. Maybe this was just the price she’d have to pay to get it. She took another deep breath, then turned to head to her study.
✧✧✧✧
After dinner Hopper walked slowly down the street with Mac back to her car. He helped her get in then went around and climbed in behind the wheel. When he pulled away from the curb he continued on straight for a while, well past where Mac thought he would need to turn to get back to her apartment. She also realized they were also going in the opposite direction of Hopper’s cabin in the woods. Mac reached to brush her hand down the back of Hopper’s head.
“Hop, where are we going? You missed the turn.” she asked him.
Hopper shook his head and glanced at her with a small smile, “No, I didn’t miss the turn. Just trust me, okay?”
Mac suddenly felt nervous, was he taking her somewhere to propose? She didn’t know if she was ready for that level of commitment. They had been together for a year but Hopper had a child, and she was still adjusting to her new motherly role. With all the upcoming changes, selling the shop, preparing to start her PhD, she didn’t know if she could handle a wedding on top of it all. She couldn’t say yes to Hopper, but she loved him and couldn’t bare to lose him either.
Hopper noticed the shift in Mac’s expression. The concern that was making her brows knit together and her fingers fidget with her skirt. For a moment he considered turning around, saying it was all just a joke. He wished he could ask her what she was thinking. This was something he had planned for so long, he’d worked so hard for it. Hopper ducked his chin in determination and continued driving.
Finally Hopper steered the Beetle off the main road onto a gravel drive leading into the woods. It bumped along, creaking as he gently coaxed it around potholes. The sun was just beginning to set, the light streaking in long shafts between the trees. They were only a few miles outside of Hawkins proper, but it felt like a whole other world. With the windows rolled down, the only sounds were the rumble of the car’s engine and the birds’ evening conversations.
“Where are we?” Mac asked as a small cottage appeared in front of them.
Hopper parked the car, shut it off, and started to climb out, “Home.”
“What do you mean ‘home?’ You don’t live here.” she asked when he came to help her out.
He was grinning from ear to ear, “I don’t yet. But we could...together.”
“Hop...what are you talking about?”
“Just come on...come inside.” he said, pushing down the sudden worry. This was not going well at all, he thought.
Taking her hand, Hopper led Mac gently towards the front door of the cottage. He pulled out his key ring and turned it over in his hands for a moment until he found the one he was looking for. Mac almost couldn’t believe it when the lock turned over and he pushed open the door. He let her go in ahead of him, his palm warm against the small of her back. She took small, tentative steps feeling somewhat like an intruder.
“Jim, who’s house is this?” Mac asked firmly.
Hopper slid his arm around her waist and pulled her into him, “It’s our house, Mac. I bought it for us.”
“What?”
Mac’s voice was so small, Hopper almost thought he blew it completely. So he turned, getting down on one knee so he could see her better and she took a startled step back, “Mac, wait! No no no! I’m not proposing!” he said quickly.
“You’re not?”
“No! Not yet at least, not until we’re both ready.”
“Oh...” Mac mumbled.
Hopper stood again, hoping it would bring her some ease, “Mackenna I want you to move in with me. I bought this house so that we could be a family. I thought...well honestly I thought you would like it better than the cabin.”
Mac took in his words as tears started to well in her eyes, “Jim...are you serious?”
“Yeah, Mac, this house is ours.”
Just when Hopper thought she was going to turn and run, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. He laughed and kissed her back, wrapping her in his arms. Mac continued to weep but she started laughing, too. When Hopper finally loosened his grip on her, she reached up to wipe shyly at her damp cheeks. Hopper cupped her head in his palm, his fingers winding in her hair. His smile was bigger than she’d ever seen it.
“There’s a big deck out back that looks over the pond. It’s beautiful.” he said. “And there’s a spot I think you’ll love. To have all your plants and stuff. Do your work.”
She chuckled, gasping a little between her sobs, “Okay, show me.”
✧✧✧✧
Mac’s study was actually the little sunporch that jutted out off the side of the house. As one would expect, it was filled with plants. Some hanging in pots from the ceiling, some spilling over the edges of the shelves that lined the walls. It always smelled of the earth, sweet and rich. In the springtime, some of her plants would bloom and the room would remind her of the florist shop. The shelves held many books as well, mostly informational tomes on plant biology and botany.
This was also where Mac kept some of her most prized possessions. A copy of The Great Gatsby her grandmother gave her when she was young. The little terracotta pot that once held the first plant -- a beautiful African violet -- her grandfather gave her. A bundle of wild flowers El gave her the day they met that were dried and framed. A birthday card from Hopper including the words “I love you, always” inside, one of the first times he ever told her. The only remaining photo she had of her deceased parents.
She went to her desk and straightened up some of the papers there. To her left was Mac’s workbench, which at that time was splattered with soil, a couple plant starter trays, and a number of different seed packets. Some empty petri dishes were stacked precariously in one corner along with other scientific equipment. To her right in the other corner of the room, a large well-worn leather armchair sat stoutly, the throw blanket crumpled in the seat. The end table next to it that was almost always obscured by books also held a neglected mug of coffee from the evening before.
Mac preferred to work on her feet most times since she was always moving around. But for grading homework she had a rolling padded stool to sit on. She pulled it out and got settled, glancing out the windows in front of her at the pond. The loon from that morning was diving into shallow water near their little dock. Behind her she could hear El rustling around in the kitchen. A short while later, the girl appeared at Mac’s elbow. Books and papers bundled in her arms, El carefully floated a steaming mug through the air, landing on Mac’s desk.
“Tea.” El explained.
Mac smiled, “Thank you, sweetheart. Smells great.”
El dumped her books in the armchair, then took the old coffee mug to put in the sink. When she returned, she had her own steaming mug. Mac watched the girl as she cupped it in her hands, closing her eyes to breathe it in. Sometimes El surprised her with the things she picked up on. She was sure El had seen her doing that with her own drink once and was just parroting the action. If Mac was honest, she thought it was kind of cute and endearing. She just hoped she wouldn’t give the girl any bad habits.
“Music?” El asked.
“Sure, you pick.” Mac replied, already focusing in.
El picked a jazz radio station out of the city. She left the volume low, knowing Mac didn’t like working with it too loud. Then she cozied up in the chair with her own homework. Occasionally she would ask Mac questions or bring over a worksheet to show her. But mostly the two girls worked in silence. Because of this, Mac didn’t even notice when El finished her homework and left the study to go watch TV.
Mac also didn’t hear when Hopper came home. From the front door, it was hard to see if anyone was in the study. Hopper unbuckled and removed his holster, storing it safely away in the small cabinet by the door. As soon as he stepped up behind El on the couch though, he noticed Mac hunched over her desk. He put a hand on El’s shoulder and she twisted to look up at him. Her expression was apologetic and Hopper understood what it meant.
“How long did she sleep?” he asked El softly.
“Until nine-four...9:45.” she replied.
Hopper sighed, “What did you guys do?”
“She took a shower and fell. Then we did the dishes. Then we did homework.”
“She fell? What does that mean?”
“She said she tripped on the rug. Her arm has...white cloth.” El said, struggling for the word ‘bandage.’
“Shit...” Hopper mumbled under his breath. When he saw El’s distressed expression, he tried to give her a reassuring smile, “It’s alright. It’ll be okay.”
“Okay...”
Hopper gave her shoulder a rough pat, “Run off to your room, kid. Okay? Mac and I need to have a talk.”
El nodded and unfolded from the couch. As she left the room, the TV switched off on its own. Hopper waited to hear her door shut, his eyes glued on the back of Mac’s head. When he was sure El was gone, he sighed and headed for the study.
✧✧✧✧
“Where do I put this?” El asked, holding up a small, boxy radio.
Mac glanced over her shoulder from where she was putting dishes into the empty cabinets, “You can put that out in the study.” she answered.
El moved to put the radio on top of the many boxes that were stacked in the sunporch. The moving company had brought over their boxes that morning and they had been working to empty them since. Across the room, Hopper caught Mac’s eye and grinned at her. He was busy taking his record collection out of their boxes and putting them on shelves. When El returned from the porch, she sat down on the floor next to him to help. Mac smiled back at them, a warm feeling washing over her at how adorable they looked together.
“Pink...F...F...Flo...” El said, sounding it out.
“Pink Floyd. Hey, that’s a great album.” Hopper said, glancing at the record she was holding.
“Pink Floyd.” El parroted.
“Did I not play that one for you?”
El shook her head, “No.”
“Well put it on then. We could use some tunes.”
El stood and went to the record player. She gingerly pulled the vinyl album out of its sleeve and placed it on the player. She lifted the pin and lowered it gently onto the record. At first it didn’t sound like anything was playing until the low heartbeat started to grow louder. When the sounds of what could’ve been an accounting office kicked in, El tilted her head in curiosity. Eventually the drumbeat of “Breathe” finally entered and Hopper started to bob his head.
“Now this is music.” he said.
El moved her head a little too, watching what Hopper was doing. “Good.” she said, smiling.
As records ended, Hopper would find another that El hadn’t yet heard and have her put that one on next. Mac would occasionally chime in with suggestions. But mostly she just wanted to watch Hopper interacting with his adopted daughter. She had spent countless hours with the two of them, though now that they were moving in together it felt a little different. Hopper was right; they could be a real family in that cottage.
“Hot Tuna?” El asked, pulling an album off the shelf and holding it up to show Hopper and Mac.
Hopper was up a ladder next to the dining room table, putting up a hanging chain lamp that Mac’s grandmother had given her. The lampshade was a stained glass pattern of purple irises. Mac stood underneath, ready to catch the lamp if it fell. Outside the sun had gone down and their dinner was cooking in the oven. Hopper glanced under his raised arm to look at El and Mac flinched as the lamp swung suddenly.
“Oh yeah, Burgers? That’s a good one.” he answered.
“Hot Tuna Burgers?” El mumbled to herself.
Mac chuckled, “The sixties were a weird time, kid.”
El nodded and put the record on, “Yes, very weird.”
“Hey kid, can you come help me out here?” Hopper asked and El moved to stand on the other side of the ladder from Mac. She looked up at him, squinting in the light, “Mac, where do you want it?”
The chain clearly gained slack as El used her powers to levitate the lamp, “A little higher, El...a little more...yeah, okay that’s good.” Mac said.
Hopper pulled the chain tight and slipped one link over the hook he screwed into the ceiling, “Alright, El, go ahead and let go. Slowly though.”
As El released the lamp, it swung a little bit then settled over the table, “Perfect.” Mac said with a nod of her head.
And it was perfect; their new little life in the cottage.
✧✧✧✧
“Hey, I thought I told you to get some rest?” Hopper said, reaching to smooth his hand over Mac’s hair.
She barely looked up from her work when she replied, “I did for a couple hours.”
Hopper sighed and looked away for a moment, trying to summon his patience, “What happened to your arm, Mac?”
“I tripped getting out of the shower.” she said, tugging her sleeve down over the bandages. “It’s barely a scratch.”
“How long are you gonna keep bullshitting me?”
His stern tone finally got her attention, “What are you talking about, Hop?” she asked, turning to face him.
“Mackenna, really? Are you serious?” he snapped. “You can lie to El if you want. But don’t fucking lie to me.”
“I’m not lying to you! I’m fine, everything’s fine!”
Hopper growled, running a hand over his face exasperatedly, “You’re not though! Have you looked at yourself lately? You’re pale, you’re practically skin and bone. And now this with your arm! You didn’t trip, Mac. Did you?”
Mac glared back at him, “You’re an asshole, Jim.” she replied through gritted teeth.
“Oh, I’m an asshole? That’s fucking rich!” Hopper laughed angrily.
“I have a lot of work to do.” she continued, rolling her eyes as she turned back to her desk. “So if you’re done calling me ugly, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me alone.”
“Argh! You insufferable woman!” Hopper roared, making Mac jump. She looked at him again, “I’m not calling you ugly, Mackenna! I’m saying you’re killing yourself. I can’t watch you do this to yourself anymore!”
“I’m not...I’m f--” she started, but Hopper cut her off.
“No! Don’t you dare! If you tell me you’re fine one more time...I swear, Mac.” he threatened, glaring at her.
“Hopper...” Mac mumbled, her whole body trembling.
Hopper hesitated, realizing he had really frightened her. He moved to kneel in front of her, putting his hands on either side of her face. “You tell me that this is what you want. But you can’t honestly tell me that working yourself into the dirt is what you want.”
“This is how I get my degree. A PhD is a lot of work.”
“Then maybe you need to give up teaching. Maybe both things are too much.”
Mac tried to shake her head, “No, I can’t do that. I want to teach. I’ve always wanted to teach.”
“I think you need to choose, Mac. I think it has to be one or the other.”
“It doesn’t though. It’s just because the semester is almost over, that’s all.”
Hopper sighed and leaned his head into her chest, dropping his hands to her elbows, “Mackenna, please...you know what’s happening. You’re smart...so smart. You know better than this.” he said quietly.
Mac couldn’t stop her body from shaking, “Jim I can’t...I can’t just give up.”
“You wouldn’t be giving up though.” he said, looking up at her again. “If you quit the teaching, you could focus on your degree and then start again when it’s done.”
“This is everything I’ve ever wanted. Everything. If I stop teaching, what if I never get a chance to go back?”
“There’ll always be opportunities, Mac. Maybe not here in Hawkins. But if we have to move somewhere to follow your dream, you know El and I would do that in a heartbeat.”
“We have bills to pay and my degree isn’t free.”
Hopper shook his head, “We’ll figure out the money.”
“Hopper...”
“I just want you to be healthy. I can’t watch another person I love...” he said, turning his face away as images of his daughter Sara in her hospital bed flashed through his mind. His eyes lingered on the braided, blue band around his wrist, “I can’t watch you die, Mac. I just can’t.”
Mac kissed Hopper’s forehead, “Let me finish this semester, Jim. Let me finish this semester and then I promise I’ll quit the high school.”
Hopper looked into her eyes, seeing that she had her own tears leaving wet streaks down her face, “This last semester, and you give them your notice first thing on Monday.”
“First thing.” Mac nodded solemnly.
“Okay...”
A small part of Mac’s heart broke agreeing to Hopper’s compromise. She could almost feel it drifting away from her. But the sheer panic in Hopper’s eyes when he spoke about losing her...she couldn’t do that to him. She knew deep down he was right, she was killing herself. Her fall getting out of the shower was only the beginning. If she kept going at the rate she was, fainting spells would be the least of her worries. She was physically unable to handle the teaching position and the workload of her PhD simultaneously. It was time she made a choice, one or the other.
“I’m sorry I yelled.” Hopper mumbled finally, reaching to wipe her tears with his fingers.
“I’m sorry I lied.” she replied. She ducked her head, “You were right, I didn’t trip. I got a bit lightheaded and tried to catch my fall. I broke the towel rod.”
Hopper looked at her arm, “Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe we should get you checked out.”
“I’ll make an appointment with my GP this week. But I’m sure they’ll just tell me I need to sleep and eat a good meal.”
“Well, I can’t sleep for you.” Hopper joked. “But I can certainly try to cook you a good meal.”
“That’s sounds nice.”
“How much more work do you have to do?”
Mac glanced at her messy desk, strewn with worksheets and essays, pens and pencils. Her typewriter was even perched on an inch deep stack of papers, “I can work on it tomorrow. For now, I think I’d like to go out in the canoe.”
Hopper’s face brightened, “That sounds relaxing.”
“Well you go get it ready and I’ll have El help me make us a little picnic lunch.”
“Can do, hun.” Hopper said, standing. He went to the door on the sunporch that led to the backyard and then paused, “I love you, Mackenna. Always.”
“I love you, too Jim. More than you know.”
✧✧✧✧
El and Mac made their way down the dock with a bunch of cucumber and chicken salad sandwiches wrapped in a dish towel and a full thermos of hot tea. They watched as Hopper nudged the canoe off the muddy shore and into the pond with an oar. It’s forest green paint was chipping where it met with the metal edge and it was clear the white interior paint had seen better days. Hopper had brought out a big heap of wool blankets, which were piled on the end of the dock.
“Alright, pass me the blankets first.” he said, tossing the guide rope up to Mac so she could keep the canoe steady.
El put the thermos down and started handing over blankets one by one.. Hopper did his best to make kind of a nest in the bottom of the canoe. “What next?” El asked when she passed over the last blanket.
“You get in, then Mac can pass us the lunch.” Hopper held out his hand and El took it, looking like she was about to leap into the boat. “Just step in gently.”
El nodded and gingerly stretched one foot into the canoe. She wobbled for a moment, then righted herself, smiling broadly. Hopper helped her sit down in the front of the canoe and then came back for Mac. She passed him the sandwiches and the thermos first, which he set into the little wooden crate at the back. Then he held out his hand again for Mac.
“Thank you, Chief.” she said sweetly, carefully stepping down into the canoe.
“You’re very welcome.”
Hopper sat down on the little shelf bench towards the back of the canoe and Mac got settled between him and El. She made sure El was tucked into a blanket while Hopper paddled them out towards the middle of the pond. When he decided they had gone far enough, he stored the oar away in the back and then settled down behind Mac. He pulled her in between his legs and she leaned back against his chest, pulling another blanket up over her lap. She closed her eyes for a moment, soaking in the warm sun on her face.
“Now this is the life.” Hopper said, the sound rumbling against the back of Mac’s head.
He leaned to kiss Mac’s temple and she scrunched up her face when his beard tickled her cheek. She opened her eyes and saw El at the opposite end of the canoe, watching them with a wistful smile on her face. Her lovely chestnut curls ruffled in the breeze and her cheeks were flushed from the slightly chilly air. El held Mac’s gaze for a moment and then looked away, out to the world around her. Hopper wrapped his arms tighter around Mac and she snuggled in.
They certainly could get used to this.
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oh-mother-of-darkness · 8 years ago
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asks (30)
@novelty--night said: 
Can you recommend any angsty dick Grayson fanfic?
I don’t really read other people’s fanfiction, so I’m afraid the only ones I can give you are mine :/ 
Those are here: 1 2 3 4 5
You might ask Dawn for some others? I think she would know
Anonymous said: 
Hi! I absolutely love your work. Can you please say anything about Steph? Maybe interactions with the Dead Robin Society? Please? Thank you! Your blog is AMAZING!!!!
The Steph content is here:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 (hc)
1 2 3 (fic)
I’ll go ahead and save the ask for the next time I have Steph ideas :)
Anonymous said: 
I would very much like to join your ace crime-fighting squad, but I am rather tall and not good at concealing myself should hiding be necessary. What should I do?
Hm well we do have several non combat positions available in the organizational sector if that sort of thing interests you, but our standard training program includes a week of camouflage and concealment instruction, so I’m sure we can find some way to accommodate you.
I would also note that if you meet the (single) requirement for membership, you’re already largely invisible soooo
kpopfreaksgeneral submitted: 
Something good that has happened to me
So, short story before all this: i’m 20 years old with autism, and I’ve dropped out of highschool (or i think the danish equvilant to that) when i was about 16-17, because I struggled with keeping up with homework. I was thrown around in the system for years, not getting meds, not knowing what to do.
Last year, I was told about an educations program which is targetted at young people with autism. Basically, it’s made to be suited around how fast you learn, how many hours you can work a day and how you will function most optimally when working. It’s within a certain supermarket chain’s stores that I’ll be taught working in.
So far, it’s going great, I get to work, get taught in it, do something and I’ll have a secured work place afterwards, all over Denmark as long as it’s in one of the chain’s stores.
Also, I’m back on meds, not the some one’s as before, but I got my med’s back.
That’s really great!! I’m glad things are falling into place for you!
Anonymous said: 
something good, besides the obvious of seeing u on my dash: it was really nice and sunny today for the first time in a really long time and it was so warm i laid out in the sun with my roommates dog for a bit just to hang
Ooooh that sounds really relaxing
Anonymous said: 
I got full mark and a bonus for a subject I didn't study well for.. I'm grateful and I think I should study next time so I deserve it XD
Whoop for grades coming out better than expected :)
@shieldshawk said: 
I got kissed by a dog named Sirius Black. Because the people who come to my store are awesome nerds.
!!! Congrats on living the dream
Anonymous said: 
I was on a date that had gone sour this weekend, and I was ready to go back home and call it a loss. When! My friend called me and told me she got into a study abroad program and wanted me to come over and get drunk with her! We had a great time!!!
That sounds like fun! Sorry bout your date ://
@nightwing1536 said: I watched Gordon Ramsay make donuts on YouTube today so that was pretty good
nightwing1536 said: It's awesome whenever I get new glasses cause then oh shit things are clear again!!
nightwing1536 said: Finding Teen Titans and getting into DC Comics was a great thing for me
nightwing1536 said: Once I made myself hot chocolate when I was alone and it was really nice
nightwing1536 said: A lady I don't know very well asked how I was doing once because I was sleeping in my old teachers class room that she sometimes popped into and she was worried so that was a great reminder
nightwing1536 said: I got a pair of really nice dentist people when I had to get root canals! Only two. But they were so nice as my usual dentist guys are mean.
nightwing1536 said: I'm friends with the dentist root canal people now
nightwing1536 said: Eating corn is always a good thing that happens for me
nightwing1536 said: My teachers influenced made me know I'm more than what everyone else thought of me to be. Made me like art as one once said "...your art is really unique, don't ever give up on that." It was a girl with a mole smoking a cigarette. Terrible picture that I let him have but it means a lot to me
nightwing1536 said: Another teacher, the teach I hang with that's now my old teacher, tapped on my desk when I had him first time(known him before ish from club) and he said "If you wouldn't mind drawing me something so I could put it up on my wall? Your style is very unique and I like it." Not sure what my style was besides melting creatures and whatnot but it was nice, gave it to him at the end of the year and he says its nightmare fuel <3
nightwing1536 said: Another teacher told me I was good enough to be in her AP ceramics class, simply because of my dedication to it. I had never taken ceramics before and only ever made a few things in her club. She and I aren't very close this year but I wish we could have been. I'll write her a letter, it's what I did for all my teachers before.
nightwing1536 said: In 8th grade my science teacher said I had potential, I didn't care much at the time but he was a huge inspiration for me to live and continue. He was the first teacher I ever drew anything for, a pic of himself, I remember his head was too pointed in the picture.
nightwing1536 said: Finding you was a good thing too
That’s a lot of good stuff! Thank you <3
@silly-fuzzy-babies replied
Bill Potts on Doctor Who saved my entire life
Oh man I need to catch up then!
@cannibalfood replied
Im almost done college, just have exams left then i graduate, my gpa so far is 3.7, not great, but I'm studying hard for exams
Listen I think most people would agree that 3.7 is a reaaaaally good GPA. Congratulations!
@therealstephaniebrown replied
Well! I'm going in on May 4th to get a new tattoo! A really beautiful thigh piece. I also got in to see a doctor and am starting to take better care of my mental illnesses. Three medications so far to help balance things. Oh, and my boyfriend is flying out to Cali with me to meet my family so he can finally propose to me cx I hope you're okay <3
WHOA CONGRATS!! I’m doing okay now. I wasn’t so much last night, but I’ll be fine
@freres-toujours replied
I got the new Mass Effect game when it came out and I've been slowly working my way through it. I finished off a planet today, and this one was particularly satisfying.
I’m glad you’re having fun :)
@another-nameless-person said
I’m gender neutral and was really scared when I found out I was pregnant(months ago) that my family would treat my gender identity badly but…. They’re surprisingly concerned if they are being rude in any way? My mom even offered to buy me a binder for after I have my baby? Also, they’re all excited for my baby to grow up having someone as open about gender, sexuality and equality raise them? Which is a HUUUGE step for my family. So that’s really something that is really good until next month and I finally get to see my daughter :D
HOLY SHIT YOU’RE HAVING A BABY!!!! I’M SO EXCITED FOR YOU!!! CONGRATS!
@entrthematrix replied
I have been really sick these past two weeks and have not able to stomach any food so I've been on a liquid only diet. But, I had my first bit of real food for the first time yesterday and wasn't sick after, it is a real sign that I am getting better now.
Oh man I’m glad you’re getting better! That sounds terrible
@thelittlechibi replied
We recently released one of our birds into the wild, but he keeps hanging around the house, and last night he landed on my lap out of the blue. Ruined it by having a go at my face and leaving a scratch over my eye, but it's nice to know he's still safe and chill with us.
Whoaaaa that’s super interesting
@pallet-45 replied
I met you!! Ahaha wow that was lame
Aw thanks Danny <3
@minami-the-door-lord:
I saw a stray cat. It let me pet it.
Yoooo that sounds great I would love to pet a cat today
@richardgrays0n replied
One of my best friends just had a baby! And I got to meet him and hold him. He's adorable and so tiny. So very tiny. I love him already and I'm super proud to be his honorary aunt.
!!!!!!! Y’all I love babies so much
Thanks, guys! Y’all are really kind and helpful, and I super appreciate it <3
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sdhs-enjolras · 8 years ago
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{OOC} An extremely detailed list of headcanons because why not?
Questions from here
What does their bedroom look like?
He keeps things relatively simple, but at the same time he totally doesn’t. The walls are a basic off-white, but you couldn’t tell without looking really closely, as nearly every inch is covered in flyers from various marches and protests, corny posters that are left over from middle school that he never took down, framed pictures of his family and friends, and at the center of it all, a massive bulletin board with so much stuff pinned onto it that it seems like a moot point in terms of keeping things organized. He’s got a small, flat-screen TV on top of his dresser, and a (hand-me-down from his parents) queen-sized mattress that rests on the floor across from it with no frame bc frankly, he just thinks it’s more comfortable that way. There is almost always a pile of crumpled up papers lying on the ground by his bed, even though there is a garbage can just a few steps away, beside the desk where he does his homework. Any other writing is done in the comfort of the bed, wrapped in at least five fluffy blankets with the TV on quietly in the background and a mug of coffee on his bedside table. Enj may be tough, but when it’s an appropriate time, he loves to get cozy. As lazy as he can get in the comfort of home, he still wouldn’t be caught dead leaving his laundry on the floor, so there is a hamper near the door, which is almost never empty because he goes through clothes at a shockingly fast rate.
Do they have any daily rituals?
Does coffee count? He can’t even function without at least one cup of coffee in the morning.
Do they exercise, and if so, what do they do? How often?
Enj always plans on exercising, but oftentimes finds himself too busy to do so. When he can, he usually will go for a brisk walk and listen to music, but most of his athletic activity is limited to Phys Ed class.
What would they do if they needed to make dinner but the kitchen was busy?
Whether the kitchen is busy or not, you’d better pray Enjolras isn’t cooking dinner. The boy could burn soup.
Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)
In terms of hygiene, Enj usually makes sure everything is nice and clean and sanitary (usually in case Joly drops by) but in terms of organization, he is a total mess. Finding anything in Enjolras’ room, backpack, or locker is like going on the world’s most boring and overcomplicated scavenger hunt.
{putting the rest under a read more bc it’s hella long}
Eating habits and sample daily menu
I wouldn’t say that he is a health nut, but he and his family certainly pay attention to what food they consume. There is only organic, non-GMO food in the house, and any and all animal products come from local sources so that they can know where it’s from, and that the animals are being treated humanely. (When going out to eat at a restaurant, Enj will often stick with vegan meals, but he won’t exactly shy away from a really good burger, if it’s tasty enough.) Breakfast is always simple, usually just scrambled eggs and toast or something like that. Lunch is always a sandwich of some kind and like, some fruit, veggies, and chips on the side because he makes it himself, and that’s the one meal that he can prepare without any sort of catastrophe taking place. Dinner is the big meal each day. What it is varies day-by-day, but the whole family always gathers around the table and eats together and talks about their day.
Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time
TV shows are his downfall. Brooklyn Nine-Nine and Parks and Rec are two of his favorites, but nothing quite compares to his greatest guilty pleasure, which is Saturday Night Live. He loves SNL, and will waste hours watching it on YouTube. Usually, he sticks with the political sketches, but some of the classics (and modern classics) tend to pop up a lot. David S. Pumpkins has become a favorite. However, he always beats himself up when he wastes a lot of time, because he has so drilled into himself the importance of getting things done and working every moment to do so. When other people waste time, it drives him absolutely insane.
Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging
A trip to the movie theater. It may not seem like an indulgence, but due to his busy schedule (and the fact that he still doesn’t have a car) he almost never gets the chance to go see a movie, and when he does, he goes all-out; large popcorn with extra butter, slushie, chocolate, the lot. It is shocking how much he can eat in one sitting when he’s at the movies. He has less of a problem with indulging, as long as time is allotted for it beforehand to avoid any potential guilt.
Makeup?
He has attempted to wear it just for the heck of it, but quickly learned that his skill level in terms of applying makeup is pretty close to his cooking ability. If any of his friends offer, he’s not opposed, though. F**k gender roles, amiright? 
Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such?
Hell yeah, Enj is an incredibly anxious human being, and to an extent, he acknowledges that he is stressed out most of the time, but he has yet to realize that there’s more to his anxiety than the fact that he’s busy all the time.
Intellectual pursuits?
He wants to at least know at least the basics of five different languages by the time he’s twenty. So far, he’s obviously fluent in English, and his French is pretty damn strong, especially considering he only started studying it a year ago, but Spanish is proving to be a pain in the neck.
Favorite book genre?
Dystopian fiction, without a doubt (though he has to admit that he was a total Harry Potter geek as a kid and some of that certainly stuck).
Sexual Orientation? And, regardless of own orientation, thoughts on sexual orientation in general?
Asexual, and super gay. In terms of other people’s sexual orientation, he’s literally chill with whatever.
Physical abnormalities? (Both visible and not, including injuries/disabilities, long-term illnesses, food-intolerances, etc.)
He’s got a small scar on his leg from when he was a kid. Nobody can quite agree on the story of how he got it. There’s another scar on his shoulder that he likes to claim that he got in a fight at a protest, but his friends know that he just spooked his grandma’s cat a couple years ago and it went off on him. 
Biggest and smallest short term goal?
Biggest: get into a really good college Smallest: learn how to make a meal that isn’t a sandwich
Biggest and smallest long term goal?
Biggest: change the entire world for the better Smallest: go on a vacation to Disney World at some point
Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress
Jeans (yeah, sometimes even skinny jeans, which are unfairly flattering), a t-shirt (usually with some social justice mantra printed on it), a cardigan or unbuttoned flannel or button-up over the t-shirt, and brown combat boots. Sometimes a beanie, but he doesn’t want to be called a hipster, so he usually passes on that. He has no real ritual, he kinda just throws it on when he gets out of the shower.
Favorite beverage?
Coffee, but then again, he considers it more of a survival tactic than an enjoyable beverage and actually hates the taste so much that his coffee is like, mostly cream and sugar, so more realistically, probably Sprite.
What do they think about before falling asleep at night?
Way deeper things than one should think about before sleep. Systemic racism, widespread homophobia, the patriarchy and rape culture, the struggles of refugees, the fact that Donald Trump is a thing, etc. Probably why he doesn’t really sleep that much.
Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them?
He swears to god that he had the swine flu way back when that was a thing. His parents say that it was just a stomach bug. 
Turn-ons? Turn-offs?
Since he’s ace af, it’s not the typical sexual definition of turn-ons and turn-offs, but he will automatically like you if he catches you doing some random act of kindness. Some kid got tripped in the hallway and you scrambled to help them pick up their books even though you were already running late? You are now automatically Enjolras’ best friend. As for a turn-off, any sort of support for Donald Trump oughta do it. After an incredibly awkward encounter at the grocery store, he still won’t talk to two of his cousins who were walking around with “Make America Great Again” hats on.
Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?
Either the most uplifting speech in history, or nonsensical rambling, depending on how much caffeine is in his system.
How organized are they? How does this organization/disorganization manifest in their everyday life?
“Organized” is not a word in Enjolras’ vocabulary. He’s got better things to do than waste time making sure everything is in its proper place and labelled and whatnot. He often finds himself regretting this thinking when he can’t find anything ever.
Is there one subject of study that they excel at? Or do they even care about intellectual pursuits at all?
History is pretty much a total breeze. His average last year was literally over 100, because he aced every homework assignment and every exam, and did stuff for extra credit, which is fitting, because he, as a person, happens to be incredibly Extra™.
How do they see themselves 5 years from today?
Being pretty much the same as he is now, but probably in college and hopefully taller because right now he’s like, 5′5″.
Do they have any plans for the future? Any contingency plans if things don’t workout?
Honestly, he’s not quite sure what he wants to do with his life. He’s seriously considering becoming a politician, but there is secretly a part of him that really wants to be a teacher.
What is their biggest regret?
If we’re being serious, probably the fact that he has pushed a lot of people away due to his own issues without ever explaining why. If we’re not being serious, when he was a kid, he went through a phase where he refused to cut his hair and it got unbelievably long and out of control and every time he sees a picture of himself from those days, he cringes.
Who do they see as their best friend? Their worst enemy?
He doesn’t tend to pick favorites, and typically considers all of his friends to be equal, but if he had to choose who his best friend is, he’d probably say either Courfeyrac or Combeferre. He doesn’t personally know anyone who he considers his enemy, but I guess you could say just, like, the entire alt-right movement. 
Reaction to sudden extrapersonal disaster (eg The house is on fire! What do they do?)
React quickly, immediately falling into a leadership role, making sure everyone is okay and things are as under control as possible until the situation has been managed. Once it’s over, he acts stoic and unemotional, spitting out harsh “I’m fine”-s to anyone who checks up on him. Only when he is alone does he finally allow himself to break down.
Reaction to sudden intrapersonal disaster (eg close family member suddenly dies)
Kind of similar. His immediate reaction to any sort of shock or trauma is an unhealthy level of stoicism and a little bit of dissociation, followed way later by an actual emotional response in private. If he doesn’t get the chance to let it all out, he will end up crying uncontrollably over the littlest thing. When his dog died in middle school, he ended up sobbing in the middle of math class because his pencil broke.
Most prized possession?
A t-shirt that was signed by Bernie Sanders. The guy is like, his idol. One time, he went to one of his rallies and got so passionate that he cried.
Thoughts on material possessions in general?
They’re fine, as long as they aren’t the highlight of a person’s life.
Concept of home and family?
He’s lucky enough to have an incredibly supportive family and a nice house, but he understands that other people don’t, and wants to do what he can to help them.
Thoughts on privacy? (Are they a private person, or are they prone to ‘TMI’?)
It depends on who he’s with, honestly. To some people, he’s the mysterious rebel whose identity revolves solely around rejecting the status quo and questioning authority, while to his others, he’s the absolute dork who talks too much, gets overly excited about the movie theater, gushes about how cool his friends are, and was forced by his mom to quit volunteering at the animal shelter after two days because he tried to adopt eleven dogs.
What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time?
Video games. He is the undefeated king of Mario Kart, but only ever plays it when his friends are over.
What makes them feel guilty?
Literally everything. Someone should talk to this kid, he acts like every injustice in the world is his fault somehow. 
Are they more analytical or more emotional in their decision-making?
He likes to think that he’s analytical, but if you really look at it, every decision he makes is based almost entirely on his emotions.
Would they consider themselves a Type A or Type B personality?
Type A, definitely. Enj has no chill.
What recharges them when they’re feeling drained?
Spending time with his friends will always cheer him up, no matter what.
Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither?
Somehow, he seems to have both. He thinks that he is morally superior to an awful lot of people, but in every other aspect, his self-esteem is certainly not what it should be.
How misanthropic are they?
Not even a little bit.
Hobbies?
He loves making playlists for pretty much any reason. He’s also secretly good at sewing, and is really skilled at making stuffed animals. He makes Christmas presents for his little cousins, who all think he’s totally awesome.
How far did they get in formal education? What are their views on formal education vs self-education?
He’s still in high school, but he thinks that education is really important. Frankly, he doesn’t believe that self-education is necessarily a good idea unless you are a really dedicated person, because it is easy to slack off when you set your own parameters.
Religion?
He’s an atheist, but still celebrates Christian holidays because they’re too fun to pass up. Logically, he knows that since he doesn’t care about religion and passionately hates capitalism, he should despise Christmas with every fiber of his being, but it’s his favorite day of the year anyway, and nothing is ever going to change that.
Superstitions or views on the occult?
None, really. Cults creep him out, not for spiritual reasons, but just because of their tendency to brainwash and murder people.
Do they express their thoughts through words or deeds?
Both, actually.
If they were to fall in love, who (or what) is their ideal?
Someone who loves him despite his flaws, who will stand with him and oppose injustice, and is fine with owning a lot of pets.
How do they express love?
Enj actually gets really sappy with the people he cares about, sending texts and hiding notes with sweet messages. He takes note of the little things, picks up on when someone doesn’t like something and changes it, or figures out that they want something and makes it happen. 
If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like?
He’s easily angered but still incredibly smol, like really he’s the living embodiment of this picture:
Tumblr media
So, when he fights, it’s usually against someone way taller than him, and he just relies on a lot of repetitive punching and kicking. Not exactly graceful, but it gets the job done.
Is this person afraid of dying? Why or why not?
Not really, but he usually tries not to think about it anyway.
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sprakdesign · 7 years ago
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Graphic Design Studio - What A Person Look Because Hiring A Graphic Design Agent?
Graphic Design Studio - What A Person Look Because Hiring A Graphic Design Agent?
By: Daniel Wilson
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Image Source: The-ark
One approach to ensure that you just get ahead is to ensure you still have all the skills you need to be a successful designer.So here's a subscriber list of probably the most important eight skills could need to find out to getting as a successfuldesigner.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3AvuC71P1Mg
Youtube Source: NoGreyCreative
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kapitanwingter · 7 years ago
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Chapter 3 - What’s sensha-dou?
Getting really really comfortable in an accomodation has been - in a sense - really challenging for me.
I never really pack my stuff out, I just leave everything in the bag, but now this was an other case. I'll be staying here for a while so I'd better start occupying every space I can find in this apartment.
Why am I saying all this? I have no idea. I start having every kind of thoughts when I'm alone, doing nothing. I guess I was too eager to visit my new school which by the way is extremely promising. They are more thorough than I could've ever suspected. You remember that uniform in the cupboard I mentioned earlier? It's a perfect fit. Spooky. I mean I am confection size (meaning every size M cloth fits me) but still. Either I'm lucky again where it doesn't matter to me or somebody really dug in about me. Maybe it's the Japanese way of getting things done. Except for supplies. If it weren't for me getting some food in the local supermarket - which was the largest challenge I ever faced because of all the Japanese script and the fact that I had no concept about everyday food in Japan. Never again. Settling in has it's ups and down....mostly downs.
Washing clothes will be an other matter. I'll either go bankrupt and buy a washing machine or go to the local laundry. The people are nice in the town...I mean aboard, so thankfully I should not have problem with interacting the locals.
Getting up at 7 was hard, but it's due to the fact that I got unused to getting up early again. The school's a fifteen minute walk from here, so I should have no problem getting past the gate by eight-fifty. The schedule of this school is similar to my old one's.
I had "breakfast" (by what I mean some cookies and more chocolate), packed my stuff which was a notebook or five for my lessons and the usual school things, got dressed and went out. I stopped in front of my door as I cloosed it. I turned over and I took a deep breath by the sight of the city above me. A new day, a new school, a new life. It was not easy to leave literally everything behind me but I guess as they say at some places "I did what I had to".
As I got closer and closer to the school in the streets I saw more and more girls in the same outfit as me. Obviously schoolmates. I was passively searching for Saki because I didn't want to embarrass her by yelling her name all over the place.
"MISS TAMIIIIII" I heard from behind me.
Speaking of the devil.
"I wonder who could that b" I couldn't even finish as she clinged on me from behind
"I'm so so so excited!" she said.
Suddenly she blushed like she got sunburnt badly and squatted down.
"....." she said "I got overly enthusiastic again didn't I....."
"A bit" I replied
"I'm so so sorry"
"It's....fine...really.....c'mon, stand up, we've got work to do"
"Right...comin'..."
We went inside and the hall was stuffed with students who seemingly knew where they were going - unlike me. They said I wouldn't need any information in advance since they will tell me everything I need to know from my class to lessons. Suddenly I spotted vice president Hatsu who was coming towards me with two other girls.
"Good day, Tamara" she greeted me.
"Good day" I replied.
"I would like to introduce you vice president Hoga Miyuu" said while pointing at the short girl with medium lenght light brown hair "and president Oshima Tokiko" as she pointed at the girl who was about as tall as me and had long blond hair in a ponytail.
"It's a pleasure to meet you" I greeted them
"Likewise" said Miyuu
"The very same" said Tokiko "I heard a lot about you, you may feel you're out of place now but don't you dare worry a bit! Here.
She handed me a paper
"This is your life now" she said "Everyone got theirs with mail but I wanted to give it to you personally. This is your compulsory schedule without your elective which starts after your lessons"
"My 'scuse me?" I said
"Your elective" said Miyuu "You will recieve your paper later. You will be able to choose one if you want, afterschool activities. The upside of it is that is that depending on your elective you can be relieved from some or more school obligations like homework, studying, writing tests"
"Anywho" took Tokiko over "Your first lesson is about to start, get to know your classmates, work hard, have fun, if you have any problems or questions just come to us"
"Whoa..." I said "That is a lot to take in at once...thank you, I mean it"
"No biggie" winked Hatsu "Just repay us with your performance"
We said our goodbyes, same to Saki because though we are in the same year but not in the same class. I went to classroom 23 as the paper said and had my first introductory lesson with our classteacher. Basic stuffs, school order, welcoming the new girl - me - and yadi yadi yada. You're in for the plot not for boredom, right? Trust me on this one, it was boring really, everyone felt like it, even the teacher but she had to do it, it's how things go.
Now at the end of the first period which was the first three lessons came the interesting part: we got our elective papers. There were different interesting things from flower arrangement to automotor-professions...and there was one I could not give sense to. I could read it and it said "sensha-dou". Battle...car...way? The way of the battle-car. What could a battle-car be I wondered.
Then it hit me
In hungarian battle-car literally translated is harckocsi. Which means tank. The way of the tank? I saw the kanji for road - dou - at some places like kyuudou as in archery. A martial arts involving...tanks? Masaka!
It's going to be lunchtime soon so at least I can find and ask Saki there, maybe she knows what's up.
During the breaks I got to know a few classmates. We were twenty-eight, only girl class because of obvious reasons. They are good people, most of them are calm and reserved but there were some "party-face" ones. Nobody was radical in it's own sense for which I was glad because I prefer working in a calm environment. Time will tell though how well we'll get along.
We have an hour break after fourth period for lunch. The dining hall was in a detached building to which a corridor led from the end of the left-wing of the main campus. I took some time to get to know the place better so with the hour-long break in mind I just walked around for some time. So as I said there is the wide but thin main building - which is three floors high and my classroom is on the second - with a left and a right wing. Behind it there is a rather huge courtyard which is basically a park with trees, benches and whatnot. Behind the courtyard and the right wing were the club houses like a classmate said with more parks with little covered places where you could sit out. I also saw the olympic sized pools they talked about earlier. They are covered and heated during winter so we could use it any time but it's for the clubs mainly. Hell...there was even a hot-spring connected to the that building. Next to it was a huge - and by that I mean a really huge - area which was covered in dirt which lasted till the buildings I saw left of the left wing of the school building.
I wasted about half an hour just wandering around so I headed to the dining hall hoping I could still catch Saki and ask her about the "way of the tank".
Although the place is pretty hungarian themed there's always one thing you can't deny as a Japanese - it seems of which I couldn't agree more: the food. The menu was totally Japanese themed with...well I don't exactly know what it was. The only thing I know is sushi and I recognized that. Other than that there were rice mixed with everything from vegetables to fish and other kinds of meat. I bought a ticket from the vendor - that's how you get your food in schools in Japan - and handed to the kitchen lady. She was kind and cooperative. I made friends with her over time.
Having gotten my food I started looking for Saki and after a minute of searching I found her with her classmate sitting at a table.
"Good day" I said "May I?"
"Please do" said the classmate "Misaki Kaga, a pleasure to meet you"
She seemed well-mannered, had her not that long brown hair in a sideways ponytail.
"Ötvös Tamara, likewise"
"So how is school so far miss Tami?" asked Saki.
"It's pretty good" I said "I haven't really made any friends, I seem too outsider to them. I expected this though, nothing to worry about, I'll get my way eventually"
"Best of luck miss Tami!" she replied.
"I'll have interesting lessons but there is one thing bothering me..." I continued.
"Tell us, we might able to help" she said.
Kaga was just starring at her food meanwhile. Looks like she didn't get any sleep.
"What's...what was it....sensha-dou?"
"The art of tank-driving you could mean?" asked Kaga
"I like don't have the faintest idea what it is so...perhaps..." I said
"That was rhetorical. It's surprising you haven't heard of it" she said "It's a very popular sport in Japan and getting even more popular around the globe"
"I didn't choose that elective" said Saki "Waterpolo suits me better. Perhaps it got your interest?"
"Yeah I might check it out, I can rechoose one if I want till the end of the month, right?"
"That is correct" said Kaga.
"Thanks for the help girls" I said "This place seems more and more interesting"
We talked about things for a little while before finishing lunch. Just everyday stuff.
There were three more periods for me which I quite literally sat through since I still hadn't gotten used to the new timezone and sleep-pattern. It was truly salvation itself when I could go home. But before, I gave my teacher the paper about electives. We weren't obliged to decide day one, I could've waited three more at most but sensha-dou really got my interest.
Dad told a lot about tanks since he was a tankman in the army during his conscription. As a matter of fact I have a lot to do with tanks as well. He is an engineer at a company which refurbishes old vehicles and they focus on military ones. But not simply just dusting it and painting them! They actually make the tanks they work on fight-capable. Okay it's not like anybody's gonna use a BT-7 nowadays but those tanks can actually shoot and are safe enough that even a person can stay inside the tank without fear of blowing up. Ever since I was a little girl my Dad took me to work from time to time. He travelled a lot to inspect different vehicles and how other companies do their job but when he works at the local garage he took me with him and I did a lot of things from polishing armour to - wait for it - shooting the big guns. I even shot a refurbished Tiger. The 88 kicks big time.
I feel confident about operating tanks. I really hope I found my thing with sensha-dou.
All the memories about tanks suddenly hit me and overwhelmed my brain. I mostly drove them in the test ranch and shot a couple but never did more like commanding others. At first somebody - most of the times Dad - came with me to teach how to operate them but in the end Dad just tossed me the keys and said "Couldcha test it out, dearest?". So I would inspect the engine, tracks, threads, gun(s), interior and the outside; go out on the ranch and shoot a couple.
I went home gathering all the info I know about the armored annihilators as the Sun was slowly starting to set.
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sprakdesign · 7 years ago
Text
Graphic Design Studio - What A Person Look Because Hiring A Graphic Design Agent?
Graphic Design Studio - What A Person Look Because Hiring A Graphic Design Agent?
By: Daniel Wilson
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Image Source: The-ark
One approach to ensure that you just get ahead is to ensure you still have all the skills you need to be a successful designer.So here's a subscriber list of probably the most important eight skills could need to find out to getting as a successfuldesigner.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3AvuC71P1Mg
Youtube Source: NoGreyCreative
More recently I've attemptedto create applied for to insure Instant Messenger account for work. This has prevented considerablyof BS conversation. I realize I start a lot of unnecessary conversation over Im. If you get enough friends, the IM conversationsnever end. Don't abandon IM altogether, but switch it off when working or studying. Instant Messengers can bea great method to network, but ought to be an excuse that they're on. Same can apply to Twitter. This applies to txt messagingtoo. Turn off your phone if it's too big of a temptation and becomes too large of a major issue.
Graphic Design Agency - Quality Or Money In Graphic Design - What Matters More For The Clients?
As the word goes, "time is financial investment." If you decide to work with a graphic design company, remember you get whatnot only do you for. You work hard due to their money and losing it would likely harm their business plus their livelihood.Check out company you are looking for and not only focus on cost. How much money did do ought to saved if the finalproject is not what market Top Graphic Designer Services.
The factors why might not immediately obvious to innovative to doing a home business, so ok, i'll point them out. For starters,verbal communication is solely not terrific. You may tell somebody something verbally you actually want neverthelessthey may not understand that is that said and ultimately, the work done isn't what you asked for. By putting thingsin writing, there could be no mistake as about the is deparately needed for the job.
A long time ago I remember a close friend of my parents was creating a lot of money from his Graphic Design Studio. He'd boughta genuinely nice house, had an up-to-date car along with the family didn't want for anything. As computer technology beganarrive into his industry he explained he was doing fine and that it would never catch as well as he went on using get thisdone . tools of the trade.
Practice constitutes a huge firm splendid! So, find out the design studio that has practiced essentially the most. Check the experiencewith the designers working there also. It is not a choice to aim for an experienced firm which only a few designersnew in the area. For, is actually very not the firm; is actually very the designers who will be going to design the sitefor your corporation. Also, choose a studio which relevant knowledge in the connected with projects you are in order to offerassociated with them. So, if you are looking for that small one, don't choose from a firm that only works on big homework.
Aren't you supposed to be doing the same task? Are you one of people whose time would be much better spent in developingnew marketing strategies to the everybody else?
If you're looking for a work from home typing job, you'd want to think of the specific type you're looking for. There are many sitesout there that usually leads you to regular transcription work. All it requires is to get into the right search things. When theresults come back, look for businesses that require a start up fee. While some of choices legitimate and only trying identifythe truly serious people, you should never have fork out to take effect for anyone.
When you choose to go out to locate award-winning graphic design, Oc is an effective place start. After all, when it appears tographic design, is actually because an area full of hard working, ambitious companies who exactly what it takes to create somethingastounding. However, in industry of high caliber design even Orange county is not entirely fool-proof. There are companiesthat take graphic design, region area and mediocrity and combine the entire group. When you along with a truly greatcompany like Urban Geko, utilized steer further from a regarding the problems you might otherwise locate running straightto.
Years ago I had been publications lawyer who negotiated contracts for me. She added a clause to my contract that said the coverimage were unable to be changed without my approval. "You don't here is a bosomy picture on a self-help book," she explained,and went on to state that this had happened. Well, you are afraid humorous lettering on a major novel either.
Urban Geko knows you do not have forever to just wait available. When it comes to graphic design, southern California has associatedwith companies this also try to push the fishing line of nonsense that quality should have a huge amount of time. UrbanGeko doesn't just be sure to pad its schedule prefer this. With designers this hungry, they shall be up for hours on endif exactly what it takes to obtain the project done when it must be done. Do not find this in many Graphic Design Studio becausethey don't want awesomeness as almost as much ast Urban Geko does.
Nikki and James have talked in regards "old school" way of records. They've both worked in analog and digital, and their recordingroots go back further than yours. Have you the balance of old and new, or real estate agent the influences on a personcan track?
Similar towards 100 Pound. gloss text, this lighter style of paper provides ample support for most brochures. Coated on bothsides, this paper runs on the same sheen as 100lb gloss - offering a beautiful color range while also giving a lighter feel tothe brochure. This paper options usually the most affordable and ideal for temporary brochures.
You can gain attention with essentially the most obnoxious, extremely colorful commercial in the journal, but in case it presentsa poor picture of one's company, it can do more harm than quality. A professional can gain attention while making youlook professional.
Photography for the Medical Graphics Field. Again, medical photography is an area of expertise. Does the studio have a medicalphotographer in-house quite possibly relationship with one posting often? Examine the portfolio. Glance at the clientsthat have used their work.
A business brochure of which may be well designed and highlights the primary advantages of your offerings will give your businessthat edge against your competitors as consumers search for your best value for their dollar.
Address:-   PO Box No : 94044,                 104 Esplanade ave 120
                  Pacifica
    CA
Mobile No:- +1 917-668-8461
For More Information: https://www.sprakdesign.com/graphic-design-agency-services
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