#imagine him doing the “cant tear his eyes away from you” when you wear traditional clothes

[yuquinzel]

desi weddings w rinnie where he literally gets SMOTHERED by aunties because "kitna pyaara ladka h !!" and then u have to help him hide which leads to both of u just sitting in the very corner of the reception venue where u feed him the tasty food 🤞🤞 and then he gets even more embarrassed cause why are u pampering him so much ???? AND HELLO NOT HIM FINDING IT IMPOSSIBLE TO TAKE HIS EYES OFF OF YOU IN TRADITIONAL CLOTHES?????? UGHWHJWIEKEKSMF sorry i just had to let it out. bye friend 🫂

— HOLY FUCK SKANAOSNSKSMSK NO IM NHSHSHMAKSKSSM STOP IM BLUSHING GIGGLING KICKING MY FEET PULLING MY HAIR WHAT

okay and like sneaking off somewhere away from the pyring eyes of rishtedars and he can FINALLY kiss you or else they'd side eye him LMAO, BECAUSE YOU LOOK SO GORGEOUS IN A LEHNGA omg no stop i literally cant

Desi weddings with rin where the aunties are surrounding him with the "agli baari tumhari hi ha" AND HES SO EMBARASSED MFNFMFNFMSNS

thank you for this Val I'll be thinking about this the whole day no 🤗

[midnightmoonkiss]

I was told by your wonderful wife, birds-have-teeth that you were in need for some asks/requests. How about Izuku and S/O on their wedding day?

She truly is a wonderful wife 🥺💜

Ahh! I dont usually take requests, but this was just too cute to pass up!

I hope you don’t mind that these are headcanons!

Izuku Midoriya X Reader

Wedding Day.

Category: fluff

——————————

First of all! I think their wedding would be set sometime in spring. The time of year where it’s not too hot and not too cool, just after all the leaves and flowers bloom. I mean think about it, Sakura petals flowing in the wind on your wedding day? What a dream.

It sounds crazy, but I always imagined Izuku as the type of person to want to have their wedding outside.. Kind of like- in a garden? Or a forest? You know that the wedding Bella and Edward had in the forest? Kind of like that! Except surrounded by flowers!

Flowers like.. Magnolia, forget-me-nots, tulips, and of course - sakura! Or, well, Cherry blossoms~ Just! Flowers that really brighten up the secluded space. You’d need seclusion, after all, especially since you are marrying the number one hero.

Wouldnt it be so cute to be married under a willow tree, a brilliant white arch covered in white roses and vines standing above you both? Ackk vines.. So beautiful. Oh! Maybe there’s even a little rock pathway down the aisle?

The air is fresh.. Because you’re in the countryside! Maybe even in the mountains. Somewhere where a little babbling brook is not too far behind the trees, its soft bubbling noises relaxing the party-goers. 

Speaking of! Wouldnt a little plant themed engagement ring be the cutest? Something like this! 

Wedding ring.. Well you both have to pick that out dont you?

The wedding day is obviously going to be the most important day for both of you! But also, nerve-wracking as hell. Im positive Izuku has probably freaked out five times since he woke up at 6AM. Maybe a mental breakdown. Yknow. 

He’s a sensitive guy! And he’s terrified! Nono, he doesnt have cold feet. He wants to marry you! He cannot imagine his life without you in it, but God is he absolutely terrified that you might be the one leaving him at the altar.

Not that he doesnt have faith in you! It’s just.. His insecurities and anxieties taking over him. Even after all these years of unconditional love, he still cant help but feel you deserve someone way better than him. And he fears one day you’ll wake up and realize that as well.

But you’d have to be absolutely crazy to even think about doing that, huh?

So yeah. Wedding day morning is filled with Izuku’s best man - Shoto - trying to calm the sporadic man down, bringing Toshi and his mom in to aid as well. He may have thrown up. Who’s to say.

You, on the otherhand, are having a great morning. You’re bouncing with excitement! Ready and oh-so impatiently waiting to marry the man of your dreams in the most scenic area you could find. It truly was a catch! A relatively cheap place - the majority of your funds were spent on food and flowers. You can get pretty good deals on wedding dresses if you’re marrying the number one hero, apparently. So long as they get to display one of your wedding photos.

Hell, it’d help a local business boom, and who wouldnt want that? You got a discount on your bridesmaids dresses as well~

A dream.

But the start time was quickly approaching. Tick-tock!

Soon enough, the both of you are ready to start a new chapter of your lives together.

The scene is set! Your husband-to-be stand beneath arch drenched in morning dew, light breaking through the trees reflecting on each little droplet and showering the little patch where your wedding was being held in brilliant lights 

It honestly looked magical, straight out of a fairy tale. Hell, you were about to marry your prince, after all

God this wedding is like every outdoorsy kid’s dream

The piano starts up once the player gets the queue that everyone is ready.

Your friends walk down the aisle first in pairs, bridesmaids with bridesmen, silky gowns flowing in the gentle spring breeze

Soon enough the flower girl trots happily down the aisle, throwing Sakura petals every which way with a happy little smile on her face, dress as white as snow and a little pink belt. 

It was truly a miracle no one tripped on the rocks yet.

Once everyone was in their place, a traditional wedding song began to play. 

Showtime.

Izuku swore he saw an angel the moment those vines swayed to reveal you.

A sunbeam hit you from behind, its golden glow cascading down your body.

Tears formed in his eyes as he watched, paralyzed, as you walked down, heels clicking against the floor

The biggest, goofiest smile cracked onto his face, eyes connecting with yours. All was going to be alright. He had nothing to fear.

He’d probably openly sob while stating his vows, hands trembling as they hold onto yours.. It’d probably be something along the lines of.. “Ever since the day I met you, i’ve become a better man. You helped me grow into who I am today. You guided me towards the path that would lead me to happiness with your loving embrace, with every word of endearment you’d whisper to me, and with love as a whole. I always wondered what it’d feel like to be loved like this, and now that I have it, and that I have you, I don’t ever want to let go of it. Because you’re it, princess. You’re the love of my life, my one and only, my soulmate, and so much more. Every day we’re apart I always think of you. You keep me going. Without you, I wouldn’t be me.”

Something cheesy, yknow! Somethin sweeter than candy corn. <3 what a sap. 

He may have had to wipe his tears a few times… cough.

Surprisingly though, his hands are super steady when he slides that ring on.

A shaky yet firm “I do,” green eyes now a shimmering viridescent as he stares at you with the purest form of love swirling in his gaze.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

His hand reaches up, delicately placing itself on your cheek. He cant help but take this moment in, condemning your smiling, angelic face to memory, the flashes of photos being taken completely ignored as he slowly leans in. 

His lips are softer than they had ever been in that moment, the kiss itself so sugary sweet - the embodiment of innocence and passion. Love.

Eyes fluttering closed, he cant help but kiss you over and over again, each one making both your smiles grow larger until giggles erupt between the two of you.

Oh boy. He had lipstick smudged all over his lips. He couldnt care less, though. Pulling you close to his body, he smiled cheekily over at the photographer for a photo.

HE’S YOUR HUSBAND NOW! IZUKU IS YOUR HUSBAND! Praise the lords. (Y/N) Midoriya has a nice ring to it, doesnt it?

Inko welcomes you to the Mrs. Midoriya family with a hug.

The rest of the day was filled with you and Izuku being stuck together like glue, surrounded by friends and family.

The wedding photos would be filled with you two standing in a meadow, sun raining brilliantly down on the two newlyweds.

ackk just.. sakura petals flying in the wind~ how pretty. Maybe one even lands in your hair and he gets to pluck it out. <3

He’s the happiest he’s ever been.

Hell, he’s sure this is what being high felt like. 

He cant stop smiling! He’s just so so cute.

Of course, a few goofy photos have to take place! Maybe Uravity uses her quirk to make it look like the number one hero is floating away whilst you ‘run’ to try and get him.

There was even one where he and his bridesmen wear parts of their hero costumes to show off a bit. Like Deku wears his hood, Shoto wears his.. Bracelets and backback..? Stuff like that! Truly it’s a weird fuckin photo. But so so dorky and so them.

His favorite photo is definitely the one where he has you sitting on his arm as he flexes. Yep. He turned into a bit of a show off. Could you blame him? Haha.

At night is when the real fun begins. Mainly because of the party! Lanterns are set up everywhere, and due to being so far from the city- the stars are shining in the sky! Much more than youre used to.

Izuku took a dance course, unbeknownst to you (Shoto and Bakugou were forced to join him- talk about chaotic!), so that first dance together is honestly breathtaking. He’s so gentle with you, leading the way and twirling you around.

May or may not have bawled when you danced with Toshinori. 

CUTTING THE C AKE. OKAY OKAY.

It’d probably be forest themed. Green and white blending beautifully together, maybe even a little frosting stream cascading down the side. Hand made models of you and Izuku stood proudly at the top. I guess the flavor would be something you both chose together?

He loves touching your soft hands so holding that knife together is awesome for him.

Oh yea. After the perfect photo is taken, he definitely smears frosting on your cheek - just so he has an excuse to lick it off.

Sticky!

You both leave in a black limo, a “Just Married!” sign placed on the back.

Ahh. honeymoon time.

It’s going to be a long night,

Mainly because..

Well. Traveling- and.. Y’know (;

All in all! It starts off as stressful, and ends in the sweetest way possible.

[anotherbeingsworld]

The Bitterness of Love

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F!MC (Casey Valentine)

Word Count: 2160

Warning: None

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters except for the storyline. All rights goes to Pixelberry.

A/N: Hi! I am back and this is... an angst. (I have missed writing angst and I want to try and write something!) I hope all of you enjoyed it, it made my heart break a little but, I am proud of it hehe! Apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes since English is not my first language! Enjoy! (Also, I just winged it on the title since I suck at it, but.. it sounds pretty cool honestly *winks*) 

Tags: @bitchloveskcbaseball , @storyofmychoices , @jaxsmutsuo , @mvalentine , @princess-geek​ , @lahellacute​ , @kacie-0156​ , @simp-for-villains​ , @annekebbphotography​ , @brycelahel​ , @mrsbhandari​ , @dcbbw​ , @choicessa​ , @choices-confessions​ , @aylamwrites​

LINK TO MY MASTERLIST

They wonder what the future might be like as they glanced at their windows, one of them was on the other side of the world while the other is living their life at their ‘home’ where all the memories were stamped on every inch of the place.

She was getting ready for the day, as she curls her hair. She suddenly felt a touch, the one that she felt familiar with, his touch. The way he would play with her hair, as they took their time getting ready for work once upon a day. The room was quiet as she sat in front of the mirror, with her hands on her hair somehow, trying her very best to feel the familiar touch once more. At the end, its just a memory as she pulled her hands off her hair, shaking her head before she slips on her white coat.

He was stood up gazing through the glass windows, as the sun starts to rise. The view was breathtaking, as his mouth curled up into a smile. He would often take a seat a few minutes before the sun rises as he would enjoy the view. His life was somehow at a fast pace, as the highway but… sitting there watching the sunrise; it slowed down just for a few moments. Those moments where he could envision anything, anyone, and anywhere. He was brought into a trance, as he felt arms hugging him on his waist, along with the familiar smell of lavender shampoo that made his day. He tried to grasp the touch, but it felt invisible. Nothing was there, as he tried to reach it but… the luck runs out. He was brought back to reality once more, as he shook his head somehow trying to get rid of the memory within his mind. Soon, he found himself wearing the same old green scrubs that had helped him survive this life.

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

The day went by quickly for both of them, he was doing several surgeries whilst she was diagnosing her patients happily. Once before they were together, but… now, together was a memory where they would relieve as it were there glory days. The days where the love was a presence, happiness was something real, before heartbreak entered into the horizons.

She would sigh, as she walked through the familiar hallways where they would sneak their little moments where love was blooming. The small interactions where they had been the talk of the staff. Her pace was slowed down, as a camera was capturing her every motion slowly.

He was cheered upon after he managed to complete a complicated surgery, where he would earn endless praise. The look on his face was happiness, somehow.. it felt incomplete. His mind would search to find her, to tell her the good news. His head tilted as in the search for her, but she is not there. She hasn’t been there for a long time. He lets out a sigh, as he walks away.

The day went by quickly after, as their work captures their whole attention from the lingering feeling in their heart. Longing for one another’s touch. They would go out and meet new people, as an attempt of so-called, filling the void. Every party, every drink they had as they tried to vanished the feeling away. They would fill their desires, but… the heart still longed for a feeling named, ‘love’.

‘I am okay.’

‘Never better, man.’

They would smile through the pain, as somehow a reminder of one another appeared. The smell of her perfume, the sweet scent of his favorite shampoo, his favorite food, her favorite song. The one trigger that made their friends look at them in concern, giving them the look of sadness when it was mentioned.

The day was long for both of them, working in a hospital. It took a lot of time, as their shifts would end during the time where the darkness replace the sunlight. The moon shines brightly being their guide back home.

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

The shine from the moon reflects through his windows, as he walked into the quiet apartment. It's different from the home they had before where it's their heaven where all good memories were made. Fast forward, he sat on the couch as he stared blankly at the television in front of him, as his smile perk up remembering a memory from before.

‘C’mon Casey, its tradition to watch every popular horror movie on Halloween night.’ Bryce said as they are deciding on what to watch.

Casey lets out a sigh,

‘I have a huge hatred towards horror movies Bryce. We can watch any movie except horror. I don’t want to be awake at night to fetch water and imagining Chucky is about to kill me in that kitchen with his damned knife…’ Casey shivers at the thought.

They went quiet, as he was thinking about a solution.

‘Okay. I have a preposition, you would watch one movie and I promised to be your trusty hero if you ever encountered a living Chucky doll in our kitchen.’ Bryce couldn’t help but stifled laughter as he finishes his sentence.

He felt a huge thump as Casey throws a pillow straight to his face, as she pouts. Bryce laughs and pulled her into his embrace.

‘Alright, I am playing with you.’ He said as he starts to place small kisses on her arms making her smile despite her attempt on staying mad at him. It's impossible to stay mad at him.

‘Its serious Bryce, I had this weird dream that Chucky would kill me in my sleep and I am not kidding.’ She playfully smacked his arm as he pulled her closer.

‘Alright, alright. We will watch any Disney movie of your choice tonight if you promise to watch one horror movie with me.’ Bryce stated as Casey raised a skeptical eyebrow at his statement.

‘What’s the catch?’

Bryce smiles at the question, making her curious even more on his intentions.

‘There’s no catch, cant a man wants to make his girl happy?’ Bryce replies as his eyes soften at the sight of her. Her hair was tied into a messy bun, she was wearing his shirts with sweatpants. She still looked like the most beautiful woman in the world.

‘You are a sap Lahela.’ Casey said as she placed a kiss on his cheek.

‘You love me anyway Valentine.’ He winked as they settled on watching ‘Tangled’ and a horror classic, ‘Saw’ as the night goes on.

He smiled at the moment that flashed before his eyes, he knew he loved her at the time. But, ‘love’ sometimes can disappear. The feeling can be self-destructing, as life gets in between them. He lets out a sigh, as he gets himself ready for the night.

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

Casey made her way back to the apartment where she used to share with her friends, most of them had moved out ever since they had gotten their very own personal lives to follow. They would still visit her frequently especially Jackie and Aurora since they would crash at hers after work is over. Sometimes, they would have a sleepover and just, have fun like old times. She turned on the switch as she was meet with her living room, the darkness around her felt comforting. After placing her jacket on the rack, she immediately made her way to change as she felt needed a fresh change after the long day she had.

The sight of her room puts a smile on her face since she is ready to plop herself to bed and just let herself sleep for the night. After a perfect shower, Casey gets herself ready as she raids her closet. Her eyes stopped at a familiar number of shirts, and a pair his very own sweatpants that were folded nicely at the corner. The sight of it brought a small smile to her face, as he would leave it there during the times he would stay for the night.

She took a deep breath, as she decides to wear it after all these years. The smell of him was gone, it was replaced by the smell of nostalgia as the memories flooded in her mind. The shirt was huge on her, but… she didn’t mind. The familiar comfort from it brings tears to her eyes as she is ready to call it a night. It felt like he was hugging her through the fabric, as she pulled the covers above her head.

---------

‘When are you leaving for the conference again?’ Casey asked quietly as they were laying down with their faces a few feet from each other.

‘Tomorrow night.’ Bryce replied with a sadness in his voice, he had to go on a conference with Harper at New York for a few days and he knew Casey ain’t taking it easy.

There was silence, as the only sound that can be heard was their heartbeats. They were close enough to hear each other’s heart.

‘I’ll be back Cas, don’t worry.’ Bryce’s voice was as soft as silk, as his hands brushed the strand of hair that was covering her face.

‘I know… it will be very lonely without you here.’ Her green eyes gazed into his brown ones, as she lets out a small sigh.

‘I will be sure to leave some momento of myself when I leave.’ Bryce winks at her, causing her to smile as her head was buried into his chest.

The atmosphere was quiet, as they decided to call it a night. Casey was still awake, as she felt herself smiling at his beautiful face which is illuminated by the moonlight that was reflected through her window.

‘I love you Bryce Lahela.’ She whispered before letting herself fall into a deep slumber safely in his arms.

The day he left for New York, Casey makes her way back to the apartment. Following her routine, her eyes widen at a box on the coffee table. After placing her stuff on the counter, she rushed to it.

She opened it gracefully as a smile appeared on her face, the smile that one would have after their food would arrive. She took out the contents of the box which consists of a few t-shirts of his, and a pair of sweatpants. People might call her crazy for smiling over pieces of clothing but, she couldn’t care less. All of the contents were taken out, and the scent of him made her smile even wider.

In a flash, she gets herself ready for the night with her ‘new’ outfits, consists of his very own sweatpants and a very rugged t-shirt. Somehow, the scent of it bring comfort to her and laying in the bed felt like he was there with her. Hugging her from behind, telling her that everything is gonna be alright.

---------

Bryce was in his hotel room, as a smile appeared on his face thinking about the goodies he left for her. It wasn’t much, but… maybe he would surprise her with something even better when he gets back.

His mind was wandering at the three words that had escaped from her mouth the other night. He never thought about that, the feeling of love. He had dated a few people in the past, the feeling with them is different than what he felt for Casey. He would feel somehow at peace as he saw the smile on her face, the way his days would light up at the sight of her and the feeling of having her in his arms felt like…

Home.

The thought was playing in his mind, as he smiled. Because, he felt it too. Love.

---------

She didn’t realize her tears had fallen from the memory, it had been a long time since it happened. She haven’t seen him in a long time, the only reminder left of him was the garments that she was wearing. The nostalgia of his touch, is something she didn’t know she needed after all these years.

He was tossing and turning in his sleep, the mention of her from the snippet of his mind bothered him. He saw her face through his friends, the way she would smile in the pics as they went to dinner together. That smile, makes his heart leap in happiness. The smile that he never gets tired of seeing. After all these years, even from a thousand miles away she never failed to make him smile.

‘I miss you so  much.’ The words echoed from the both of them, as the darkness around them paints as a disguise on the pain that their heart is feeling.

There were times it would work out, where their futures is filled with happiness from once upon a day but… sometimes, it’s just not meant to be. And, they have to live with it for the rest of their lives.

THE END.

A/N: Hi! I hope all of you enjoyed the ride, it was really fun to write! Don’t forget to like, comment and reblog! It really means a lot to writers. Thank you so much for reading once more. 💖😊 - A

[tartagliaxx]

GUESS WHO'S BACK AFTER DAYS OF HIBERNATING--

But y e s . YES. Gosh, I have a feeling that you two would try to have one of those sunset beach weddings too, mainly because a) it's romantic, b) you get to look for seashells and enjoy the beach together afterwards, and c) he can totally post about it on reddit qjshdhdgeh--(another couple of bonus points when you bring up the day you saw him with the stray cat when you say your vows, as well as the multiple times he's been there to protect you looking at you, Scara.) It's very sweet all in all--so much so that even some of his apprentices start sniffling. Like? This whole au is like a sweater and I love it??? There's just so much to think about when it comes to Childe here it's unbelievable--

Sigh,, you really do deserve the certificate and award for best Childe Simpificater man 😭

Bold of you to assume humanity was never doomed in the first place--the Childes have won. Humanity has been wiped off the planet. What do they do with this victory now, you ask? Simple. Fight each other to the death.

-🌻

HELLO! HOW WAS YOUR TIME AWAY FROM THE LOVABLE MONSTROSITY KNOWN AS CHILDE?

lmfaoo going back to our equally lovable bad boy!au... aaaAAAAAAAAAAAA IT'S THE WEDDING DAY!!!! they've both come so far i almost feel like tearing up 🥺🥺imagine if they have a tradition where they pick up a shell and put it in a glass bottle every time something big happens in their life. on their first date, (the arcade one bc no matter how much they denied it back then, it's a freaking date) childe won you a mini-seashell keychain. it fades from blue to purple and it has little dots along the ridges. on your aquarium date, you bought one from the souvenir shop — a pretty pastel blue that matches his eyes. now on your wedding day, you pick up a white conch that just so happens to be the first one in your 5th glass bottle. speaking of redditor childe, i'm pretty sure he becomes the 'ideal' of romanticists so when they need advice, they always start w '(his username bc i'm not funny enough to think of one) 👀' and everyone just knows that they're hoping he'll answer them. there's one story that childe particularly keeps being updated on. it's from a fellow bad boy who doesn't know how to speak out his feelings. he may or may not be a true flat earther but he's crushing on someone who's adamant that the world is, in fact, an irregularly shaped ellipsoid. ok going back, i just see the apprentices trying to hold back their tears the entire ceremony but as soon as the reception began and it was time for the greet the newlyweds portion, they just end up weeping at childe's feet while telling you to take care of him and that 'the boss hates it when his feet are cold. he likes the fuzzy socks you can buy from the grandma in the corner of the street and—' like man,, come on. you obviously know that alr.. ALSO!! your gremlin classmates making an entire powerpoint presentation of your love timeline bc they hella updated like that. please— how did they even find out that you had midnight 'i'll treat your injuries' sessions????

sigh,,, i said it like twice and i'll say it again. this au is my firstborn child and i love it so so much. it brings me comfort every time i dream of it at night (lies i don't 'dream' but u get the point) and yes, it's basically those oversized sweaters you get to wear as soon as the weather turns cold and it's so nice and warm and 😭😭i shall gratefully accept the certificate and award. i'll frame it and bring it with me to wherever i go. Childe Simpificater (tm) nation rise!

no but,, childe infestation!au and hunger games crossover. i like it. we all might be dead but at least they'll die with us. wait... wait!! that would mean that only one childe would emerge victorious right? in theory that's... that's the 0.01% we cant seem to kill in the 99.99% of germs 😭😭😭😭😭i do not need a mfing childe germ!au 😭😭😭

[pumpernickel-simswood]

Sabine the Instigator (Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2

Dear Kwami, this took at least a week to write and I don’t know why but here it finally is. Also, I have no explanation for some of the ways Adrien acts in this lol.

Marinette went down to the living room, school bag in hand.

“Good morning, sweetie.” Sabine smiled.

“Good morning, Maman. Papa’s already down in the bakery?” Marinette kissed her cheek.

“He is.” Sabine nodded. “How’s Adrien?”

“Um, okay from what I last heard.” Marinette blushed.

Sabine nodded again, “You should bring him over for lunch.”

“I… I’ll tell him you’ve invited him to join us for lunch.” Marinette said, a bit wary of her maman. She canted her head, “Can I grab a couple of pastries for breakfast?”

“Of course.” Sabine said.

“Thanks Maman, I’ll see you at lunch.” Marinette gave her another cheek peck and went to grab the pastries.

***

Marinette jogged up the stairs of the school. She’d actually made good time this morning. She ducked into the locker room and sorted the books she’d need for the day.

“Oh, good morning, Mari.” Adrien greeted as he headed to his locker.

“Wow I got here before you? I must be super early.” Marinette smiled, “And good morning, Adrien.”

“Well, super early for you maybe.” Adrien teased.

“Well that’s quite a way to talk to your fiancée, Adrien.” Marinette had a hand on her heart, unable to suppress her laughter.

Adrien chuckled, “You’re right, you’re right, my sincerest apologies, Mari.”

“Oh, well, if you’re sincere.” She giggled and closed her locker.

They headed into the courtyard and to a bench. Marinette pulled out the pastry box as they sat and opened it for him. Adrien’s entire face lit up as he took one.

“You’re the best, Mari.” Adrien beamed.

“I didn’t even make them.” Marinette shook her head.

“Doesn’t make it any less true.” Adrien shrugged before taking a bite. He hummed in delight.

She chuckled and took one for herself. They sat and ate in comforting silence.

“Thank you.” Adrien said after he’d finished eating. He rubbed the back of his neck, his other hand drumming on his thigh.

“Adrien?” Marinette asked.

“Yeah?” Adrien looked over.

“What’s wrong?” She frowned.

“O-oh, um, nothing’s wrong per se.” Adrien looked away, pink dusting his cheeks. He shifted and pulled something from his bag, “So, I, uh, I wasn’t sure if- well, I’m honestly not sure how long Father’s going to keep this, uh, arrangement - but I mean, if it does keep, I’m not, uh, I wasn’t sure if this is something we should do or you would want and- just, I got this after we talked yesterday.”

Marinette blinked as a velvet ring box was placed in her hands. She stared at it, numb shock enveloping her. Cuz there was no way this was what she thought it was.

After a long awkward pause, she opened the box with trembling fingers. Resting gently inside was a beautiful ring. The band was silver and shaped like a branch with pink sapphire flower buds. The centerpiece of the ring was a blooming sakura of soft pink porcelain.

Marinette’s breath caught in her throat. She could feel tears trying to form in her eyes.

“I, um, I got a necklace too in case you’d rather wear it that way. If you want it, I mean. If not, I totally understand and that’s totally okay. I just figured you should have one if you want one, y'know?” Adrien rambled, “And it’s the proper thing to do, I guess. Not that that’s why I bought it. I mean, not completely. Tradition did have a role in that, I guess-”

Marinette pulled him into a tight hug, “It’s beautiful, thank you.”

“O-of course.” Adrien managed, hugging her back.

Marinette broke the hug reluctantly and looked at the ring with a small frown, “If I wear it like a ring, people are probably gonna notice.”

Adrien pulled out another box, this one containing a silver necklace chain. Marinette looked at it for a long moment.

“Y'know what?” Marinette slipped the ring onto her left ring finger, the weight a foreign feeling. “It’s too beautiful not to show off.”

“It fits okay?” Adrien asked.

Marinette slipped the ring off easily enough and then back on, “Perfectly.”

“Good.” Adrien smiled in relief. His smile returned to nervousness, “Oh, uh, Alya and Nino are here.”

“Oh… this’ll be interesting.” Marinette muttered, pulling her arms in tighter to her body.

Alya spotted them and walked toward them, Nino following easily behind.

“Hi Alya, hi Nino.” Marinette said with her best innocent smile.

“Girl, what happened? You just dropped off the planet this weekend.” Alya frowned worriedly.

“Hey Nino.” Adrien greeted.

“Hey dude, you doing okay?” Nino asked.

Marinette forced her focus back to Alya, “Oh, well, I got some kinda surprising news this weekend that took some time to process. Though, honestly, I might still be in shock a bit.”

Alya’s worried look deepened.

“It’s nothing bad!” Marinette waved her hands to try to assuage Alya’s fears, laughing a bit more nervously than she’d like, “Just surprising and random, I promise!”

“Hey Marinette, what’s up with the new ring?” Nino asked.

Marinette and Adrien startled. They exchanged a look, apparently neither had thought that Nino’d be the one to bring it up.

Almost simultaneously, they blurted, “We’re engaged!”

“Y-you’re-? Excuse me!?” Alya squeaked.

“Mari and I are, uh, engaged. Betrothed. Affianced. Intended.” Adrien replied, looking like he still wasn’t sure this wasn’t just a really weird, really long dream. He shrunk into the bench, “It was arranged without our say.”

“Between Maman and Gabriel, apparently. They sprung it on us.” Marinette frowned, “I’ve been trying to wrap my head around it all weekend.”

Adrien nodded his agreement in that. Nino and Alya stared at them, shocked.

“So, you're… you’re not, um, ex-expecting, right?” Alya asked.

Marinette stood abruptly at that, voice pitched higher from distress, “Alya! Of course not! I’ve only ever kissed one boy and it wasn’t even Adrien!”

Adrien wisely decided not to bring up the Statue Incident and the fact that, technically, their lips had met. Making his only remembered first kiss be the one with Marinette and the irreversible awkwardness. Which was simply unfair in all senses of the word.

“You’ve kissed Luka?” Alya frowned.

Marinette hesitated, her cheeks turning pink, and she fiddled with the hem of her jacket, “N-no. Not with Luka. Not that it’s even important… Given the circumstances…”

“Then who the he-” Alya began.

“It’s really not important, okay?! Just- just drop it, please.” Marinette had her eyes squeezed shut and her fists were clenched.

“Okay…” Alya breathed. She turned a frown on Adrien, “So did you get her the ring or was that arranged without your inputs too?”

Adrien actually blushed, “No, I got it for Mari.”

Alya’s eyes narrowed as she tried to dissect Adrien using only her eyes. Adrien looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“But hey, the ring is really cool and definitely fits Marinette’s style, so good job, bro.” Nino held his fist out to his friend with a grin.

Adrien sent him a grateful, if shy, smile and fist bumped, “Um, thank you.”

“So, is the whole class going to be told?” Alya asked.

“If they ask.” Marinette shrugged, twisting the ring, “I don’t intend to actively paint a bigger target on my back. Especially when it comes to Lila.”

“If she dares try to hurt or threaten you again, let me know, Mari.” There was a quiet fury in Adrien’s eyes as he stood before his betrothed.

Marinette blinked, “But-”

“I’d already warned her because of Oni-Chan and then she got you expelled and akumatized. I’m not going to let that happen again.” Adrien said, fists clenched.

The other three stared at him in surprise. None of them knew how to respond to Adrien’s angry determination.

The bell rang.

Adrien grabbed his bag, then Mari’s and held it out to her, “Your bag, Mari.”

“Thank you.” Marinette took it.

“Y'know Sunshine, you’re kinda scary when you’re mad.” Alya frowned.

“Well, I hope that’s enough to persuade Lila to drop it.” Adrien sighed.

Marinette worried her lip but said nothing. Adrien’s anger was justified but it still concerned her.

They walked up to their classroom as a group, more of their classmates falling in with them.

“Oh right. Adrien?” Marinette turned to him.

“Yeah P- Mari?” Adrien asked.

“Maman is extending you an invitation to lunch with us at the bakery.” Marinette relayed. Though her brow was a little scrunched.

Adrien paled a little but smiled, “Thank you. Uh, I’ll ask Nathalie.”

“Okay.” Marinette nodded.

They settled into their seats as they filed in. Alya sent Marinette a teasing, questioning smirk. Marinette rolled her eyes and started pulling out her books.

Marinette’s motion stopped as a realization hit. Oh. Oh Kwami, she was going to have to tell Cat Noir.

Marinette’s face burned as she imagined that conversation and having to answer his innocent and curious questions. She buried her face in her hands with a noise of frustration. Alya snickered. Marinette turned to shush her.

Except… Adrien growled. Actually growled.

Marinette snapped her attention to him. Adrien was hunched over his bag. She couldn’t see his expression from here but Nino’s was one of confusion and shock.

“Uh, dude?” Nino asked.

Adrien’s head jolt up and over to his friend, “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” Nino frowned.

There was a pause.

“Yeah, why?” Adrien chanted his head.

“Uh, cuz you kinda just, er, growled.” Nino replied.

“O-oh, did I?” Adrien’s right hand twisted around his left wrist, his eyes wide.

Marinette’s heart twisted painfully. She offered her hand as she softly said, “Hey.”

The attention turned to her and Adrien’s eyes widened more. Marinette left her hand offered, not intruding on his space but still there if he decided to take it.

“Well of course you growled, you said you were going to watch that big cats documentary last night. ‘Lions, and Tigers and Cougars, Oh My!’, right?” Marinette said.

“Girl, what on earth are you talking about?” Alya frowned.

“A documentary on big cats, such as lions and tigers.” Marinette frowned, “Did I not just say that?”

“Yeah, but why would that make Adrien growl?” Alya crossed her arms.

“Clearly you haven’t seen it.” Marinette scoffed. At some point, Adrien had taken her hand, but she wasn’t going to make a thing about it. Marinette shook her head, “Honestly, Alya, it’s that immersive.”

“Oh hey Adrien.” Lila greeted with a shark’s smile.

“Lila.” Adrien acknowledged, voice icy and sharp.

“Did you hear? We have a photoshoot tomorrow.” Lila smiled wider only to hide her wince.

“As Nathalie didn’t mention that this morning, perhaps you’re mistaken.” Adrien smiled.

“Or maybe your condition is acting up again.” Marinette couldn’t help but suggest helpfully. She smiled innocently when Lila glared at her.

“I’d suggest you go to your seat, Lila.” Adrien’s voice was hard.

Lila huffed and stormed up the stairs.

“I’m so glad you’re on our side, dude.” Nino breathed.

“How do you manage to be so terrifying all of a sudden, Sunshine?” Alya asked.

Adrien shrugged, “I’m just done with being everyone’s pawn in a game that hurts my friends.”

“That’s fair.” Alya nodded.

Adrien looked at Marinette, then, with an indescribable expression. She squeezed his hand. He smiled softly.

Part 1 Part 2

@ijustwannabecanadian @rianoel @mysticmiraculer @hellolovelyscientist @theworldslittlesis @maindeckdeathtoymonsters

[keith-is-not-an-emo]

which fics are you reading atm if you don’t mind sharing? ty!

Oh boy anon, oh boy.

You don’t know what you’ve done.

There will be E rated fics but they won’t solely be smut fics or too extreme.

edit: it seems like you can’t access the post from your dashboard so you have to be on my blog to see it *sighs* good job tumblr, like always.

star-crossed by realfakedoors (or anything they write, you’ll be seeing a lot of that here)

They said, once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was a peaceful and prosperous kingdom, rich in romance and tradition. They said the Prince would host a ball, and choose his spouse, and they would live happily ever after.Well, they lied.

–

Keith is a Prince, and Lance lives with his shitty extended family. Neither of them are very happy, and when they meet, they’re surprised to have so much in common. Strangers, to friends, and then, well…

Meanwhile, Hunk is a sweetheart, Pidge is an iconic asexual, Shiro is a supportive Knight Dad™, Allura isn’t here for anyone’s crap, and there’s some political shit going on that forces them all together.

okay so how do i say it? it might be fave kl fic atm. this is my dirty laundry, my on thin ice. i love eveeery thing about it. i literally drop anything im doing if i see it updated. Also the last chapter? got me Shook.

also i KNOW about that big E rating there but the smut is in only one chap and i think the author marked it so it’s totally complementary and doesn’t add anything to the story so don’t worry.

breakfast on the moon by DairyFarmer (also very very recommended author!!)

Future Prom King, student body president, and all around hottie Lance McClain is abducted from his home in Arizona in 1997.

He is found decades later in the clearance section of an Earth paraphernalia store by the Paladins of Voltron.

another one of my big faves atm. everyone is very attentive of lance which is *clenches fist and wipes tear* very good. also it screams future langst and i cant wait :) (im kind of a langst hoe sorry not sorry)

let’s play pretend and hope it comes true by fevered_dreams

The Kingdom of Altea was quickly heading towards ruin. At least, it had been until the Royal Family’s eldest daughter had been born as an alpha. The people had rejoiced at her birth, and there was hope yet for a new ruler and a future secured. Even the fact that the second Royal Child had been born a beta couldn’t dampen their spirits.

Except Lance was not an beta. He was just an omega, trying his best to keep the charade going with a set of spells, pills, and all the tinctures he could brew because being an omega was dangerous. Being an omega made him something to be had, a rusted tool of barter worth less than scraps in return, and Altea couldn’t afford to let him go.

But, if Lance’s luck would have it, Prince Keith of the Blade wouldn’t mind being lied to too much.

okay okay in my defence, this one STILL doesn’t have smut. only kinda steamy make-out sessions. also don’t let the a/b/o scare you, there is talk about the dynamics but not so much in the sexual way, u’kno?

anything by BleuSarcelle, but if i have to chose one, let’s go with Of Pink Freckles and Green Moles

Lance now can see the boy’s face and he can only stare at the pretty color in the boy’s eyes before he’s suddenly being squished by two hands.

“Papa!” the boy shouts happily back at the adult that makes his way other them hurriedly. The boy hardly notices, still too fixed on squeezing Lance’s cheeks for a second longer before he giggles. “Papa, ugly!”

“Keith, no! Oh my god -”

“Ugly,” the boy repeats obliviously, patting Lance’s cheeks with a proud gleam in his eyes. “Ooh-gly!”

Lance doesn’t know what that word means but for some reason, it makes him cry harder.

[Or the one where Keith and Lance meet when they are two and three years old respectively and spend their entire childhood going through charity contests. Lance says they are rivals, Keith only hears ‘best friends’.]

super cute G kidfic.

Ground Control to Major Tom by yourfavoritetsundre

A year after Keith and Lance have a big falling out, Lance is…well, he’s not missing. He’s fine. He’s just not telling anyone where he is. Keith decides maybe the best way to apologize for being an absolute monster is to track him down.

Following Lance’s path of self-discovery, Keith starts to remember all the things about Lance he had buried years before. Because of the war, because of the Blade, because of Allura. And he starts to realize that maybe he’s to blame for more than he thought.

Meanwhile, Curtis just wants to plan his quiznacking wedding.

post-s8 fic

Written in Sand by MuseofWriting

Lance wakes up in a hospital on Earth to discover he has been missing for four months, with no memory of Voltron or the Galra. Drawn inexplicably to the desert where they found him, he discovers a hut full of research and notes that may provide the key to his missing memories. With secrets and conspiracies surrounding him, and the Garrison potentially hiding far more than he could ever have imagined, Lance grows to trust the notes in the desert - but he may not believe the person who claims he wrote them.

this one has been around for a while (a year to be precise) and i thinks its pretty aknowledged in the fandom but *shrugs* 

until we get there by starlightment

Sometimes his mind is cruel. He’ll wake in the dead of night, drowning in his sweat, choking on his tears. He’ll clutch at old bedsheets until his knuckles fade to white. He’ll shiver in the darkness, and the light blue marks beneath his eyes will start to burn, and his lungs will heave, aching for a breath that just isn’t there.

And sometimes Keith comes to visit.

Those are the best days, Lance thinks.

Those are the days when it’s easiest to breathe.

—

Or: Lance loses himself a little bit, but Keith is there to help him find it again.

post-s8 fic. i think i dont even need to present they author since they’re better know for writing something blue (i heard wonders abt it but havent found the chance to read it yet). also i cant fucking wait for their new fic like im vibrating here on my seat bc i LOVEEEE the trope of jock keith / nerd/prep lance dont judge me

sunflower by xintong (uuh i think i dont have to introduce this author either lmao)

On the morning of their first summer back on Earth, Lance receives a gift of sunflowers. A confession, a rejection, and the passage of time, all leading to the one person who’s always been there for him.

another post-s8 fic because honestly i needed healing at that time okay. super soft and cute and uuughhhh i cant deal

Pretty Ob(li)vious by msmooseberry

Lance loves make-up and being pretty while wearing it. Unfortunately, even in the world where Earth becomes one of the main centres of intergalactic communication and home to many races, his hobbies are still largely frowned upon. He never wanted other cadets at the Galaxy Garrison to find out, especially not his half-Galra crush, but that is exactly what happens. Lance prepares for the hate or ridicule at best, but the reaction he gets is something else entirely. Who knew Galra viewed lilac sparkly lips as a betrothal symbol?

keith finding lance the most beautiful being ever? uuh yeah? gimme that shit

Chestnut And Onyx by MilkTeaMiku (great author too!)

If his eyes weren’t deceiving him, Keith looked a little flushed. He crossed his arms over his chest, wings all puffed up and ruffled like he was preening. “I didn’t know you were that flexible,” he said. And then he looked angry, and his wings puffed up even more, and he stormed away. -Lance thinks his wings aren’t all that pretty, but Keith has other ideas. If only Lance knew.

langst wing-fic. what could i ask more for?

you’re lucky that’s what i like by zenstrike

Lance rescues a hamster from certain doom.

or, Lance has Keith wrapped around his little finger and doesn’t even realize it.

just. take the whole fucking thing. just take it

aaand these are the ones that appear on my feed that have been updated recently since most of them aren’t finished (sowwy). the bad thing about reading a lot of fics and having bad memory is that i already forgot half of my fave fics, probably, lmao.

[proudpukwudgie]

The Scarf - Newt x Reader - Part 2

Holy shit. here it is, yall. part two. finally. the original was posted almost a FULL YEAR AGO and oh man i cannot believe that. i cant believe my account is over a year old. what in the Heck. I love you guys all so much and consider this fic an apology for the unannounced hiatus I took.

Without further ado!!!!! Here is the much-awaited part two!! A lot of people asked me to tag them, so I made a separate post where I tagged them and linked here. I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: adult themes but nothing explicit. angst, followed by so much fluff you might suffocate! Part one can be found here.

--

You had never laid eyes on an article of clothing so beautiful before in your life. It wasn’t glitzy or overly extravagant, but it was beautiful in its purity and simplicity. The fabric fell like waves, a soft eggshell color. The plain base part of the dress was made of satin that gleamed in the thin light filtering in through the curtains that obscured the window, and the delicate overlay of Georgette fabric complimented it perfectly. It was simply incredible and incredibly simple at the same time.

You were dreading having to don the gorgeous thing, and your throat tightened at the very thought of it. Your hair was done, your makeup had been painted, your neck perfumed and your hands manicured all in preparation for the dreaded marriage, but finally slipping the dress on was the last thing you had left to do. It felt as though it the one thing that stood between you and the sealing of your fate, so final, your last admittance to yourself that yes, you were going through with this after all; it would make the whole situation seem real to you, once you physically felt that fabric in your hands and secured the suffocating corset to your body. It would solidify it all, shifting everything into place (your poor, unsuspecting organs included, if you knew anything about the nature of corsets), and you were planning to delay the finality of that as long as you possibly could. You had done so many things in preparation, but that all might as well have been a long, bizarre nightmare that you had been floating through with no real attachment. Seeing yourself in the dress would make it real, and you were in no way prepared for that.

You had been gifted with rose petals the night before by your aunt, who was now your step-mother-in-law-to-be (what a mouthful), so you smelled very faintly of rose water from your bath the night before. The wedding was to be indoors, in the ballroom of Duncan’s expansive family home, and you could hear the muffled sounds of violinists rehearsing from where you sat on the bed of the guest bedroom. Your favorite flowers were everywhere, and the air smelled vaguely of your favorite desert, which had been mass-prepared for the afterparty. Everything about the setting was lovely and perfect in the most traditional of ways, and that was precisely what twisted the whole thing into your own personal hell. Each lovely thing seemed to mock you, and you could almost hear irony’s delighted and sinister whispering of isn’t this what you wanted? Isn’t it beautiful? Isn’t it perfect?

It was. It was beautiful. It should have been a dream, like what you had oft imagined as a small girl, but it now served as the setting for a hellish nightmare. It was like one big, cruel plot to ruin every last bit of your comfort and happiness. You felt sure that after this day, you would never be able to eat your favorite dessert again without getting physically sick. It would all be ruined for you. Even the nature of the situation was dreamlike, and you floated through it as if in a stupor, a serene sense of denial enveloping you and keeping you calm. The way time was seeming to slow down, to creep on, the smiling faces you couldn’t really bring into focus or recognize, the garbled way all the voices fell on your ears, the way each movement you made seemed to require conscious effort. Your heart was thundering in your ears and every part of your speech seemed automatic and unconscious. It was like you were asleep.

You got slowly to your feet and made your way over to your suitcases. They held all of the things you would need for your honeymoon in France, but there was only one thing in there that really mattered to you, and you kneeled to open your suitcase and find it.

There it lay, among a pile of your socks, pajamas, and underwear, folded and placed with such care. Your shaky hands gripped it, pulling it to your face. It was slightly scratchy and pilled, but it still brought you comfort and soft happiness. It grounded you, and made the events seem somehow both more real and less overwhelming. It still smelled like him. Like leather and earth and pine trees, like sawdust and dew, and like that one specific scent you couldn’t quite identify that was unique to him. It made you sad, but at the same time it gave you comfort by association. You got to your feet, still grasping the scarf in your hands, and went back to the bed. You laid it carefully on the soft and pricey sheets, smoothing over it with your fingers and taking a deep breath. The contrast of the cheap, slightly scratchy material of the scarf and the expensive and smooth liquid silk of the sheets against your fingers was amusing to you in some strange way; the former was your final haven and the latter, though it logically should have been more pleasant, made you feel almost physically ill. “I need you with me for this, Newt,” you murmured. “and this is the closest thing to you I’m going to have,”

You turned slowly to the dress, dread almost rooting you to the spot, but in a suddenly forceful and swift movement you pulled it off the hanger and let it pool at your feet. You stepped carefully into it and pulled it up over your slip, tugging the fabric over your hips. You felt the soft brush of the silk against the bare skin of your legs, and the Georgette fabric was almost ticklish on your shoulders. You tied the corset loosely at your back with a slight struggle, resolving to have someone else fix it later, and drew a shaky breath before turning to look in the full length mirror, but before you got a chance to look, there was a small rapping at the door. “Come in,” you called, the sickly sweet tone of your voice foreign to you. Your father swung the door open, a gentle smile on his face. He held a small box in his hands and his expression imitated happiness, but his eyes betrayed the fact that he was sad.

“You look lovely,” he said.

You smiled faintly, walking over to him. “Thank you, papa,”

You stood in silence for a moment, both unsure what to say next, shuffling uncomfortably. At last, he looked up at you and held the box out with trembling hands. His eyes were glassy, filled with affection and melancholy. “Your mother... this is one of the only things I have left from her. She purchased it for your sister’s first birthday, saying that it was for her to wear to her wedding someday, but that day hasn’t come for her yet,” he said.

You took the box, lifting the lid off carefully, and your eyes grew wide. It was pure silver, and absolutely breathtaking. The design was ornate, vinelike with leaf patterns and twists and turns, and diamonds were sprinkled strategically across it. It had a high choker collar, and the front expanded down to your chest and collarbones when you slipped it on and snapped it closed in the back. It made it somewhat hard to move your neck, but it was nothing short of stunning. You turned to look in the mirror at last, tears of both intense sadness and awe in your eyes as you regarded yourself properly for the first time.

“She would have been proud of you,” he said softly, placing his hand on your arm lightly. “For being so brave through all of this. This necklace was for your sister, but she would have wanted you to have it,”

“It’s beautiful,” you managed to croak out at last, emotion heavy in your voice. “Are these... are they real?” you murmured, brushing your fingers against the diamonds that now dotted your throat and chest.

He chuckled slightly. “Of course they are,” he said, looking somewhat nostalgic for a moment. “Your mother had...expensive tastes. She always wanted the best and most beautiful, no matter how much money she spent to get that,” he said fondly, shaking his head fondly at your mother’s habits as though spending ludicrous amounts of money had been just another endearing quirk of hers.

You tapped your fingernail against the silver, heart racing with sudden anticipation. Your mind whirled to keep up with the information he was presenting to you, and for the first time in four months you felt the genuine warmth of hope blooming in your chest. “Expensive...expensive tastes?” you spluttered out, eyes wide in something like disbelief. As though you had to see as much of this as you could to properly believe what was unfolding before you. “How expensive?”

He clearly wasn’t catching on to your implications, as he looked thoughtful for a moment. “She purchased it at an auction, I believe, for around, nine, ten thousand? It seems like so much now, but back then, it wasn’t quite so-”

You whirled around to grip his shoulders, digging your fingers in unintentionally in your excitement. “Papa. How much would this necklace sell for?” you asked wildly, startling him. He blinked at you quizzically.

“Probably about the same,”

You dropped your hands to your side, eyes glowing. “Thank you, Papa! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you cried, throwing your arms around his shoulders for a moment. Tears prickled in your eyes and your lip trembled, relief coursing through you in waves. You pulled away to look at his bewildered face for a moment. “This is just... the best gift I’ve ever received,”

He smiled a little bit, overwhelmed and confused. “Your mother did have wonderful taste,” he replied. “you apparently take after her more than I had thought,” he said with a thoughtful quirk of his mouth, clearly under the impression that your excitement was due to the fine quality of the necklace. It was due to the fine quality of the necklace, but not for the reason that he seemed to think.

You ushered him out the door swiftly. “Listen, Papa, I really need to finish getting ready, so please come get me again when it’s time for you to escort me down the aisle!” you chirped, moving to swing the door closed behind him, but pausing to look at him for a moment. “I love you, Papa. Thank you for everything you have done to support me through this,” you murmured, fondness and guilt filling you at the idea of leaving your father behind to face the wrath of his ex-future-inlaws-who-are-still-technically-his-inlaws-just-not-through-his-daughter (another mouthful, my goodness).

You whirled around. The wedding was soon, and you had no time to change into proper clothes, so you slid across the floor and grabbed one of your suitcases, flinging it open and pulling everything out with little care for tidiness. You followed suit with each of your other suitcases, sorting through the pile of your belongings to grab only the essentials and shove them into one case. You snapped that closed and threw the curtains open, undoing the latch to your window and letting the warm summer breeze in. Freedom. The wind smelled of grass, flowers and freedom.

You didn’t need to marry Duncan to get all that money. You could just sell your mother’s necklace.

You were on the first floor, and you dropped your suitcase out the window and made a move to follow it, but hesitated for a moment. You turned back quickly, snatching your wand from the dresser and waving it hastily to summon a bit of parchment and a quill. You scrawled a half-hearted explanation note with haste, the ink blotchy and smudged, and laid it on the bed before turning back to the window. You hesitated again, wand in your teeth, before slipping back to your bed to grab the scarf and toss the gawdy and awful engagement ring beside the note for good measure. You could have sold it as well, but you were much more keen on the idea of owing Duncan absolutely nothing. Without so much as a glance over your shoulder, you hastily tied the scarf around your waist and leapt back toward the window.

You swung your leg over the windowsill, not caring whether you ripped the dress, and the instant your feet were planted in the grass, you took off running as fast as you possibly could. Your feet protested due to your fancy wedding shoes that had most certainly not been designed for such exercise, but you paid it no mind. The pain was nothing bothersome, simply a complimenting factor to the exhilaration of your sudden liberation and the heartbeat thundering in your ears. The necklace was safe in its box your suitcase, and you wasted no time high-tailing it toward the woods. You couldn’t take the main road for fear of running into a bewildered guest who was still arriving (what a story they would have had to tell) and you couldn’t leave the property through the front gate, so you figured that taking a long hike through the forest was your best bet to get out of there as fast as you possibly could. Running through the forest in your fancy clothing and painful shoes was evoking some serious nostalgia, and you felt your heart tugging painfully at the thought of your best friend.

You would not go to Newt for assistance, no matter how much you longed to. Some deep romantic part of you wanted desperately to run right out of the arms of one man and into the arms of another, which your logical side told you was absolutely ridiculous. This was not for him. This was for you and for your sister. Part of you was afraid to ask anything of Newt ever again, fearing that you had caused him an irreparable amount of pain, and you figured with a pang of sadness that you would have to learn to live with that. You had never expected him to do anything about your situation because he owed you absolutely nothing in exchange for loving him. What a ridiculous notion that was. You had known him and loved him and hurt him and thoughts of him were only a very small part of your motivation for running as far from Duncan as you possibly could.

Once you were past the tree line and the house was out of sight, you slowed down some. The most dangerous part was over. You were so close to freedom. You knew for a fact that walking about two miles in these woods would lead you to a road, and you could either hitchhike with some muggle or follow the road to the town where the train station lay. You had to go. You had to get out of there, and it didn’t matter where you went to, but you had to get out and there were too many muggles around to apparate safely. Besides, you would not risk splinching or accidentally leaving your suitcase behind near that house. You didn’t want to have to set foot in Duncan’s wretched mansion ever again.

An idea sprang into your head, and you grinned as you gripped the dress in your fists and lifted it up a little so you wouldn’t trip on it as you stepped over a log. Your sister was hospitalized, which meant that her home was empty. She had been sick for a while, but only very recently had she been admitted to full-time care at a magical medical facility, so her teeny house was still just as she’d left it. The key was under the doormat! You could go there to get yourself together and change into proper clothes before finding a jeweler or someone to sell the necklace to, and you were suddenly ecstatic. Your hair caught briefly in a branch, and you untangled yourself impatiently, your carefully pinned hairdo falling out bit by bit. It was lopsided now, and you cast a bobby pin distastefully aside. You would sell the necklace, have your father collect your things from Duncan’s home, and be freed of the responsibility of marrying him. Your sister would get the treatment she needed, and you would have a shot at being happy again.

A shot at being free.

--

You emerged from the woods about an hour and a half later, your feet aching and your beautiful wedding dress torn and smudged with mud from dragging along the earth behind you. Twigs were caught in your hair and your makeup was smeared in a clownlike fashion as a result of your hands wiping away at the sheen of sweat that covered your face. You had never been happier in your whole life, and you found yourself giggling reflexively as you started along the road.

It wasn’t a long walk to town, and you beamed the whole way there, taking no notice to the bewildered looks you were getting from passerby. You must have been quite the spectacle, especially to muggles, with your wand clenched in one carefully manicured hand and a suitcase in the other. You were a grinning mess, dirt and sweat and makeup smudged on your cheeks and once-pristine dress, your bare arms crisscrossed with scrapes from trees and brambles and twigs and a well-loved Hufflepuff scarf tied securely around your waist. You walked into town with a slight limp, your feet still aching terribly even with your shoes off and dangling from your hand, and smiled politely at anyone you walked past. You disregarded at all looks because frankly, you didn’t give a shit what they thought of you right now. You were where you needed to be and you had done what you needed to do to get there.

The train station was nearer than you had been expecting, and you marched up to the small stand where a man was selling tickets. “Where to...” he looked up from whatever he was writing, and looked bewildered for a moment. “...Miss? Mrs?”

You replied with the name of your sister’s town, and he looked surprised. “That’s a few hours away, ma’am,” he said as he got you a ticket. “Why are you headed there, and in such a hurry?” he inquired, gaze lingering pointedly on your wedding dress.

“Cold feet,” you said with a cheeky grin, and he raised his eyebrows but didn’t question you any further. He opened his mouth to give you the price, but you were suddenly completely disinterested in anything he had to say. You gripped your wand tight and turned away, wide eyed, to look at the thin stream of people trickling out of the train station doors with disbelief written all over your features.

“Miss...us? Missus?” he called after you, but you had swept up your suitcase and were off, pain disregarded as your bare feet flew against the rough pavement. A familiar figure had caught your eye, and you broke immediately into a sprint. He was walking rapidly, anxiously, with purpose, his signature case in hand.

“Newt!” you cried, surprised and delighted as you realized that the artificial honey that had been dripping from your words for the last few months had dissolved into raw and real joy; you found yourself wondering for a fleeting moment if you were having some bizarre dream and you were about to wake up and put on your incredibly simple dress and marry Duncan for the money, but all notions of that dissolved as he turned and his eyes met yours and his face lit up in a way that you had never seen before. You were crashing into his arms in an instant, and he was real, this was real and not a dream and he didn’t smell anything like that horrid house, of rosewater or your favorite dessert or like sickly sweet and perfect flowers, he smelled like train smoke and pine and sawdust and earth and sweat and you were crying, voice raw, all of a sudden, tears coursing down your cheeks and dripping onto his coat as he gripped you, lifting you into his arms for a moment as though he, too, needed reassurance that you were real.

You said nothing for a moment, just holding each other as tight as you could, until you pulled away and gripped his face in your hands. His familiar stubble scratched against your fingers and you grinned. “Merlin’s Beard, Newt, what on Earth are you doing here?” you cried, and he grinned back at you.

“Nice scarf,” he commented, eyes flicking to your waist, where the Hufflepuff scarf he had given you only weeks before was tied securely. “and I could ask you the same question,” he teased. “Don’t you have somewhere you’re supposed to be? A wedding, perhaps?” he chuckled a little, his eyes bright and his lips fixed in an instinctive grin.

You smoothed your thumb over his cheek, laughing breathlessly. “I don’t have to marry him. I have an old necklace of my mother’s that I can sell and I’ll still have money to spare but I didn’t know until today so I had to sneak out the window of the guest bedroom in my wedding dress and hike here through the woods,” you spoke rapidly, barely pausing to breathe, let alone articulate properly.

He started laughing even harder, eyes aglow as he gripped your hips and pulled you in to steal a swift kiss. “The Occamies hatched. They finally hatched a few days ago and I sold the shells,” he said in between little fits of laughter. “I sold the silver so that maybe I could... ah,” he paused for a moment, looking exhausted and infatuated and ecstatic all at once as he studied your face.

You looked at him with unrestrained adoration in your tearful eyes. “Why?” you found yourself murmuring in awestruck disbelief.

“Perhaps so that I could take Duncan’s place as the rich suitor who would fund your sister’s treatment,” he said, chuckling some more with both relief and amusement. “Or perhaps just as an old friend who would sacrifice anything necessary to see that you are happy,” He smiled in the way that he always did, a sort of sober honesty in his eyes as he finished his statements. “Either way...I couldn’t live with myself knowing that I could have done something but chose not to,”

At this, you pulled him in hastily for another kiss. This time, it was sloppy and desperate and your teeth clacked clumsily and you smiled into it as he leaned forward. It was, without a doubt, the best kiss you had ever had. His lips were chapped and his face was unshaven. It scratched against your skin and you grinned, tugging at his hair with a giggle as he pulled away to look at you.

You gripped Newt’s hands in yours, looking at him with happiness written plainly all over your features, and tugged him up and toward the ticket man. You hadn’t noticed, but he had been watching this emotional exchange incredulously and he eyed the pair of you with a judgmental but amused expression as you approached him.

“So I assume that will be two tickets, then,”

-------

omg it’s done??? im so ????? it’s been almost a year since I posted the first one and here we are!! the scarf: part 2!!! holy heck i hope u guys like it i had so much fun with it

[thatcanadianfangirl]

*Alec Lightwood* Rune Teacher

Alec lightwood X Girl

Requested: I wish

Plot: Diana’s been teaching Max Light runes, since she’s no longer is required to go on missions. Alec gains interest in her and begins to remember his past.

Word Count: 1,624

A/N: The gifs I use aren't usually mine, don’t give me credit. Also I do pair Alec with girl. Not because I’m homophobic,  but  it’s because I find Matthew Daddario sexy as hell. If you want a male imagine, all you have to do is request. Not cut down my pride acceptance.

The institute had fast pacing Shadowhunters getting ready for their next missions. Always wearing the traditional black, fitting like a second skin. I missed the feeling and satisfaction I always got from the leathery fabric.

I was not longer required to be on those missions again, I trained everyday. Strengthen my skills everyday. That didn't help the fact that I lashed out on my last mission. Attacking a downworlder  with a seraph blade. I remembered the anger running through my vein when I constantly stabbed the werewolf in the heart.

Even though werewolves’ weakness is silver, I stabbed so many times that the werewolf couldn't regenerate. I cried until Alec Lightwood had taken me back to the institute. I didn't know him personally, But the Lightwood name has been known throughout the Shadowhunter world. it happened so long ago I don't think he remembers.

I remember is clearly.

“This one is creation.” The small gentle voice pulled me from my inner thoughts. I looked down to see the Rune book laid across both my and Max’s laps. His tiny index finger pointing to a circled run with a lineless A in the middle.

We were sitting on a stiff white leather couch that sat against a far wall. The loud noise off Shadowhunters not reaching our ear range. Light kissed our skin from the window behind us. Warming us from the cool and feel of the institute.

“That’s correct, Max.” I said smiling , He looked up at me with beaming bright brown eyes. He hasn't been able to label that particular rune for a while. “I did it!” Max yelled as he jumped off the couch and started happy dancing.

I couldn't help but giggle at his adorableness, He’s never done that before. Than again he’s never been stuck on a rune before. He usually knew most of them already.

I looked up feeling eyes burning on me. Dark brown eyes locked on mine and on to the sight of his little brother’s excitement. He looked back at me and slightly smiled  before walking away.

I frowned looking at the time on my phone, 4:00pm Sharp. “Max, your mother will be here soon to take you back to Idris.” I mentioned, taking the Rune book into my hands and standing up.

“Awe, but why cant I stay with you until our next rune session?” Max asked looking up at me with big doe eyes. I giggled kneeling down to his height. “Because, Max. You have to go back home. Your mother won’t be happy if you stay here.” I explained to him and gave him a hug afterwards.

He wrapped his small arms around my neck, latching onto me for as long as he could. When I started teaching Max about runes I could feel our bond grow stronger. He was like a little brother to me and I felt like a big sister to him.

“Max it’s time to go.” Mayrse’ s bold voice made us pull apart. I stood up and greeted her with a smile that she returned. Max sighed loudly, “Mom, I don't want to go back. I want to stay here with Diana.” Max whined.

“Max we've talked about this before, You can’t stay here and don't whine it isn't not polite.” Mayrse said. I watched as Max lazily started walking to the entrance of the institute. Mayrse rolled her eyes at her youngest as she walked to me.

“I don't know what you do to make him like you so much.” Mayrse said.

I shrugged “All I did was give him the time of day.”

“I can’t repay you enough for teaching him, he’s been so good with his runes ever since.” She mentioned before walking off. 

I frowned starting my own way to the place I call home now, my room. I’m not ready to start going on missions again. That fear I hold is getting me closer to getting my runes stripped. Just having the thought rolling I'm my mind made me shiver.

My mind was too lost to comprehend where I was going. I walked straight into someone, knocking the thoughts to oblivion. Before my body could react the person in front of me already did.

Wrapping their arm around my waist holding me close to their body. Breathing heavily, anxiety starting leaving me. I closed my eyes silently thanking the person’s instinct.

The person started to let me go, I looked up to see the same dark brown eyes looking down on me. The eyes from earlier, Those eyes belonged to Alec Lightwood.

He furrowed his eyebrows searching my face for something. “I’m sorry I wasn't looking were I was going.” I said feeling my checks heat up slightly. “Yeah, You weren't.” He said bluntly making me bite my lip, anxiety crawling backup my spine.

His expression changed as if a lightbulb went off in his head. “You look really familiar.” He piped up searching my face again, I shrugged. “I teach your little brother runes.” I suggested, wondering if that’s what he meant.

“No-I mean yes I know that. But I’ve seen your face before that. On a Mission?” He asked me. I swallowed my nervousness back down, I shook my head. “That’s impossible, I haven't been on a mission in a few years.” I said.

“You’re the girl that lost control.” He said narrowing his eyebrows at me, waiting for answer. I exhaled slowly.

“It wasn't like that.” My voice harsh, hiding the vulnerability behind it.

 “You stabbed a werewolf enough times that he died. What do you call that?” He asked crossing his arms over his chest. My eyes widen, I had nothing to cover that. I couldn't cover anything that was my true past.

“I have to go.” I chocked out, tears burning my eyes. I rushed past him, bodies pressed against each other. I ran off, Alec calling out for me. I ignored his calls as I remembered the death of my sister.

Clonk, clonk. The loud sound of the wooden staffs meeting echoed through out the spacious training room. Isabel in front of me with a determined expression, Clonk, clonk. I stepped back from the impact of the hits.

Hair tied back as sweat traveled down my face with ease. My tight grip on the staff started to loosen. The sweat on my palms started to build up, Clonk. The staff flew out of my hands.

I was defenceless as Isabel used the staff to knock my left foot from under me. I hit the floor and slide from the hard impact, I seethed from where my tail bone landed.

I looked up to she Isabel holding the staff’s end to my throat. She frowned, “What’s gotten into you?” She asked taking the stick from me. “I’m usually the one on the floor, you have more training than I do on a weekly schedule.”  She mentioned as I propped myself on my shoulders.

When I trained with a partner it was Isabel, she was the only women in this institute that could keep up. Isabel never takes it easy on me and I thank her for that. She makes me stronger with my combat skills. We only train together, we’ve never hung out together. Not since my younger sister.

“I’ve been distracted lately, take in the glory while you can.” I smirking as I lifted myself off the floor. Walking of my aching tail bone, well trying to. I bent down to capture my staff into my hands.

“Let’s see if I can kick your ass again.” Isabel said slyly turning her in her hand smoothly.

“Izzy I think you should rest for a bit,I got this.” The husky voice said, the boldness letting me know it was Alec. I turned around to see him coming from the door, with confident strides.

Isabel looked from me to Alec, she nodded slowly. “Sure.” Isabel said, giving off she was little suspicious. She cautiously handed the staff to him, He took standing in front of me with a tiny distance as he watched Isabel leave.

I was confused why he shoed off Isabel like he did. I haven't talked to him since I ran off, he didn't try to reach out to me until now. “What are you doing here Lightwood?” I asked as I walked towards the staff rack, knowing I wasn't going to train anymore.

“I wanted to talk about you running off.” He said as he followed to put away the staff.

I crossed my arms, “Alec, there is nothing to talk about.” My voice strained as I spoke.

“I was harsh on you, your little sister died and I should have been more understanding.” Alec said, I felt my throat get sore as tears threatened to spill.

“You know nothing!” I raised my voice slamming my staff back into it’s rightful place. I started to storm away, a hand caught my wrist and pulled me back.

Lips fell onto mine, forcing themselves onto me. I tried pulling away with the strength I had , but Alec held my face to his. My heart started to slow from the kiss and the tears disappeared.

He kissed me slowly and softly, erasing the grief and the thought of my sister away. I kissed back, deepen the kiss. I’ve never felt this close to someone before and it was scaring me.

Alec slowly pulled away, I looked into his soft brown eyes with wide startled eyes. His hands still around my neck and checks, “What was that for?” I asked my voice shaking a little.

“I wanted to do that since you started your runes with Max. Now I had an excuse.” He mumbled knowing I can hear him clearly.

“And what’s that?” I asked softly.

“To calm you down.”

[christianmarkchristian]

Girl Gone West

 A Film is Born                   c h r i s t i a n  c h r i s t i a n Mid 1990’s: 23 year old petite, sultry brunette Carole Bardwell, her 7th attempt to move to and stay in, L.A. having succeeded, meets Matt Damon & Ben Affleck at a dinner party, where the studly, rising Damon impregnates her... STOP What’s this? Yet another tabloid, #MeToo story of sexual assault? Another disgusting, obscene tale of lewd behavior, power, tears and woe?...another reason to boycott the annual Oscar Awards telecast? No. Quite the opposite. In fact, though such stories still abound (and always will) in Hollywood, its the opposite. Its a tale of incredible imagination. Its a story of people of faith, as well and it’s time that #wetoo “come out.” And about the Oscars: 99% of viewers might not understand why Oscar winners accept their award with weeping, joy and occasional bizarre behavior. As you read this story about the trials and travails of getting a movie made, you’ll get it. Granted, getting an independent film produced might not be as difficult as finding a cure for cancer...but close. This story records the unbelievable struggle of a married, then divorced couple to get a movie made. It’s dedicated to all people everywhere who have struggled or are struggling, to make a feature film. In fact, developing their project is one reason the couple is still close after divorce, sometimes even living together at times if it seemed good for the project. Regarding that... -a divorced couple living together was seen in 2012, as so unusual and even unhealthy, that a major cable news network actually cast the couple in what they pitched as a “News Doc” focusing on the phenomenon. After reading this, anyone should be able to understand why finally getting their movie made will be a cause for these two, to laugh, weep and dance with unbridled joy. An Oscar? Well that would be the possibly cause of a complete and total joy meltdown! And YES #WeToo can bring answers to the #MeToo problem but more about that later.           Yes, Damon impregnated the beautiful young Ex-Texan not with human seed but with words, with the idea of a movie project. Damon had just finished a script inspired by his life called Good Will Hunting, a tale of breaking out of one’s own personal limitations, of the confines of “home” and going west to chase a girl and/or a dream. That tale went on to receive numerous nominations and awards. Here are just a few: Best Actor in a Supporting Role, Robin Williams. Best Writing, Screenplay Written Directly for the Screen Matt Damon & Ben Affleck. Best Picture Lawrence Bender. Best Actor in a Leading Role, Matt Damon. Best Actress in a Supporting Role, Minnie Driver. Best Director, Gus Van Sant. Best Film Editing, Pietro Scalia. Best Music, Original Song Elliott Smith For the song "Miss Misery,” Best Music, Original Dramatic Score, Danny Elfman. Back at our Melrose dinner party, hearing young Carole’s struggle to move to L.A. no less than seven times, Damon half jokingly (but really meaning it), says “write a movie about it” and “call it 7 Attempts to L.A.” Carole went home that night and within days, began writing on 4” x 5” Index cards. Without sufficient knowledge of how to write a script, though, or having script writing software or even a typewriter, her movie-pregnancy eventually dies. Yet that baby will be resurrected; not just once but over and over, during the course of the next twenty three+ years. Damon & Affleck will collect numerous awards, star in and produce numerous films and rise to Superstar status. Bardwell will marry, (this writer) change her name a few times, divorce (this writer) move about twelve times, to various suburbs around Hollywood (finally settling there.) She’ll survive twenty three years in an oft-times cruel industry, working as a professional hand model while dreaming of being a working actress and making her movie. 1999-2002 The first script-resurrection began with meeting this writer at a Hollywood Bible Study. Evangelist/Motivational speaker Tim Storey packed out the Bel Age Hotel Banquet room, just off the Sunset strip, with the best and brightest of gorgeous, hip, stylish Hollywood. Charlie Sheen, Christian Slater, Gary Busey and Dyan Cannon were regular or frequent attendees as was nightclub owner Brent Bolthouse. It was there that this writer met then-Carole Bardwell and began a life-long friendship that would center on at last birthing the script-baby. (or “the script, baby!) A few short years after meeting, Carole, then Carolyn, took this writers surname, Christian and became Carolyn Christian. In the very first year or two of marriage, the two got busy writing the first draft of the script 7 Attempts to L.A. But it wasn’t until they had been forced to move from their dream Brentwood apartment, due to insufficient income and ultra high rents, that more serious drafts were written. 2 0 0 5 In San Fernando, CA., taking up extra work and sharing the two bedroom condo of an Avid Video Editor friend, “JAKE” they moved into high gear and first began to look at the 3 act structural challenge that Carolyn’s biography posed. Christian had been taught three act structure basics by a student of a famous film writer and director. Act one is where obstacles are introduced and situations are “set up.” Act two is where they reach crisis mode and Act three is where everything is resolved, “payoffs” happen and the dragon is finally slain. The challenge was that the couple was living in Act two, with no Act three in sight. How does one write a true story that remains unfinished? How does a true story of two people doing extra work, struggling to keep a roof over their heads, end up with one, or both, winning an Oscar? At the advice of a then-talent manager, Carolyn enrolled in the prestigious Baron/Brown acting school in Santa Monica. One of her acting partners in class, a young man with a bright future, took his own life. Carolyn was moved to take up the cause again. The script would be about suicide prevention. Her story was one of persisting through terrible hardship, loss, depression and pain and yet winning victory in the end. Her faith taught her that if she would just persist, trusting God, breakthrough would eventually happen. She and her co- writer, then-husband, dreamed of audiences that would include depressed or suicidal movie- goers finding themselves immersed in the shared mass experience of a movie that changes their mental state. Doubt, despair and sadness would be replaced with Faith, Hope and Love. It became more than a movie-it was a passion project, a MISSION. It was a burning question: if Doctors, Lifeguards & Police officers can save lives, why cant movies? Why not? Once upon a time, before the invention of the microscope, in the Netherlands in 1590, the idea of unseen microscopic creatures inhabiting humans and causing cause death, seemed crazy. Out of ignorance, people died from bacteria, germs and lack of sanitation. Is is possible that today, people dying from suicide are also victims of something unseen to the naked eye; something that promotes suicide, something that a story or an immersive experience might cure? Wild ideas indeed but no wilder than the world we live in and what wilder place is there than Hollywood, California? The decision was made to “write their own future” according to popular teachers of the time, Christian and otherwise. They wrote a third act using a rumored long lost relative “Belizaire the Cajun” who had left a fortune in a Swiss bank account, landing the couple finally, in a Limo, on the way to the Oscar’s. Incredibly, a Limo-driver friend was introduced to their lives and they became house mates with him in...

2 0 0 7 TARZANA Maybe showing signs of ADD, they veered wildly off-course when they found and adopted a street Tabby, inspired to pursue another script that another actor-Gary Busey had inspired, a modern-day Breakfast At Tiffany’s project, instead. -Or maybe they knew that a long lost rich Uncle story was way too predictable, not the way to end their story and it would take a few more years of hardship, to craft the perfect “happy ending.” THE MIRACLE HAND MODEL Amazingly, CeCe’s hands were discovered...in Church. CeCe had been raised in “hand raising” church traditions but at conservative Bel Air Presbyterian, her hands-in-the-air worship style stuck out like a...sore thumb. In February of 2007, a 30-something black friend, “Picasso,” who resembled Barack Obama, was sitting a few pews behind CeCe. He noticed her hands during worship because they were raised in the air among a congregation of hundreds of non hand raisers, who’s hands were kept at their sides or in their pockets. CeCe’s hands were flawlessly shaped, thin and graceful. Picasso, it turned out, often worked with Linda Teglovic, owner of the top hand modeling agency in the world, BodyPartsModels, in Beverly Hills. After church, Picasso gave CeCe a referral. Linda was blown away by CeCe’s hands, saying they “looked just like her top model, Adelle.” But alas the miracle was “not yet”- the fee for joining the agency was steep; around $1500 for photos and other signing fees. Some even said that fee’s for joining modeling agencies were “red flags” and to beware. Regardless, the couple was struggling financially yet again and certainly did not have $1500 for something that seemed at the time, like risky business. Both had made good money working for Barry Young, a commercial director friend but that job ended when Christian’s Mom needed in-home hospice care for the Leukemia which was soon to take her life. So, hand modeling, like the movie project, was shelved. 2 0 0 8 JUNE 26- CeCe’s Birthday! a year and a half later, CeCe’s bestie, a pixie wearing female Norwegian entrepreneur named Lena, handed CeCe a birthday card as they left an Encino, CA Starbucks. Stopped at the light, in the dark, with Christian driving, CeCe opened the card to find...a check for $1300! Inside, a note read “for your hand modeling!” CeCe’s Dad sent $300 to cover the extra fees, enabling CeCe to finally sign with BodyParts Models. Soon, her gorgeous fingers were seen tapping a Hewlett Packard Tablet in a commercial, shown during the annual Grammy Awards show! She was even booked on a Cici’s Pizza commercial where she made $3500 (before taxes and fees) in one day just to hold a slice of Pizza! But the REAL miracle happened back in the 1970’s, to four year old Carol. Her older half sister, Angie, arguing over their dog, slammed the front door of the house. Carol’s right pinky was caught between the door and the door frame. The bloody tip hung by a slender piece of flesh as Carol’s Mom held it together in the car, on the way to a local ER. The doc said that “it would most likely not function” if they sewed it back on and that discarding the tip might be the best course of action. Carol’s parents were both faith-filled Christians who trusted that God would be able to not just heal but glorify little Carol’s hands. It took thirty years but God did just that, using BodyPartsModels Agency. Unfortunately, although the hand modeling paid very well, the jobs were inconsistent. Forced to move again and again, the couple shelved the film project yet again, for a few more years, to focus on keeping a roof over their heads and on keeping the marriage together. 2 0 1 0 AUGUST An awesome DTLA PR job earned the couple $300 per day and got them into a beautiful Sherman Oaks apartment with Lena co- signing. But that job was lost after a year and a half, when the owner of the company decided to fire everyone instead of engaging in a labor relations dispute. Losing the job forced them to scramble to find $300 a day to keep them in their expensive apartment. Some months they succeeded and some months they did not. SAG Actors Fund, Bel Air Presbyterian Deacons Fund, unemployment, friends and family all helped but eventually the bitter struggle overwhelmed them. 2 0 1 1 September Ten years after marrying, the already strained relationship finally broke down completely. A triumphant, redemptive script based on Carolyn’s “real life” seemed like a joke when her life and her marriage, were ruined. Even Ben Affleck personally hiring Christian as a sketch artist at $200/day with his own trailer, for Oscar winning ARGO, couldn’t put things back on track. It was “too little, too late” for CeCe, who spent many a night just weeping in her bed, pondering the incredible devastation that divorce was about to bring. Christian too, suffered a deep depression when forced to embark on a months long couch surfing tour of several friends from Church homes. Married couple Pastors counseled Christian to accommodate CeCe’s request for “space.” Sleeping on the couch in an L.A. County therapist friends Los Feliz apt, he joked “most people only need your couch for an hour a week but apparently I need eight hours a day!” 2012 JANUARY Christian finds a job listing on CraigsList for CeCe who has experience cold calling investors from similar projects in the past. She gets the job and later that year, it will pay for her new Hollywood apartment. JULY Divorce final, a major “News” network casts them in a “documentary” about how the crash of ‘08 was causing divorced couples to live together. Bringing cameras into their Sherman Oaks apartment to film what they said was a “news doc” the show turned out to be a reality show where Christians buttons were intentionally pushed, to destroy his “zen” calm and foster ratings. OCTOBER Carolyn began to use the name “CeCe” from her hubby’s nick-naming her initials. The divorce final, CeCe moved out of their Sherman Oaks apartment and took a small, rent-controlled one bedroom in Hollywood, with a view of the HOLLYWOOD sign and the Observatory at Griffith Park. DECEMBER When the show aired a few days before Christmas later that year, Christian suffered from one of the worst shame based depressions he’d ever experienced but instinctively knew that there had to be a reason for it: -that making a movie that would save people from depression, it might be necessary to experience that same depression. 2 0 1 3 JANUARY Christian takes a job as “Chef” at ROAST a deli-market in Brentwood where he works 7am - 9:30 pm, 5-6 days a week, standing on his feet without a break, to keep the apartment. AUGUST- MORE UNEMPLOYMENT Tired of being on his feet for 14 1/2 hr days, standing next to a 600 degree oven while being yelled at by a hard drinking wanna-be Anthony Bourdain, Christian gives his two week notice in August, having found a job as a home PA for a questionable film project in Playa Del Rey. The welcome break of sitting down all day with a view of sailboats just outside the Marina is rudely interrupted after only a few weeks when Christian and his beautiful young Brit blonde co-worker are asked not to cash their checks. He and his co-worker friend quit. The restaurant wont take him back. His co-workers hubby, living nearby, banged daily on their employers door and eventually got his wife paid. Christian forgave his employers debt of $700 from that job. At the same time, CeCe and her co-worker friends, across town at the Raleigh Studio offices of “There Goes the Neighborhood” LLC, are shocked and dismayed to learn that their Film Producer boss is using money from investors retirement funds, to do coke, hire hookers and watch porn. CeCe, as Christian had done, quits after not getting several paychecks. She takes five pages of leads of investors and the Private Placement Memorandum (PPM) legal doc and quits the job without getting paid almost $9,000 in commissions owed. THANKSGIVING? Christian kept trying valiantly, to keep the expensive Sherman Oaks apartment but after just a year, he failed to find the income or a good room mate and was given a deal to move out without harm to his credit. A friend who was also being divorced by his wife (Lena, the Norwegian entrepreneur,) for the exact same reasons, offered the empty garage in the couples four-bedroom Panorama City house, a few miles up the road, for $400/month. Moving into an un- insulated, garage in a low income neighborhood, living amongst spider webs, during one of the coldest Thanksgivings in L.A., was a low point in Christians life -but things were still to get worse. CHRISTMAS? Just when he had found a temporary part time job in a friends restaurant in Winnetka, a 20 minute bus ride away, he was given the news that the house was going on the market. After finally settling in, he’d again have to move, without a job and with only a few hundred dollars in his bank account. Meanwhile in Hollywood, CeCe meets a British rising star who encouraged her to pick up the project again, that he’d like to read it. 2 0 1 4 “It can only get better...” MARCH The house sells, Christian has nowhere to go. CeCe reluctantly but kindly offers her couch and is rewarded almost instantly with a miracle job. Christian, tired of crappy jobs, bounced checks and couch surfing became pro-active and agrees to co- found an event company. ”CHRYSALIS HOLLYWOOD” planned as a 2-day Seminar/Bootcamp for newcomers who want to increase their savvy in Hollywood. Christian begins to receive a small monthly stipend from his Seattle area Christian woman business partner, whom he’d met on Facebook. Looking back, it might seem so incredibly sketchy. But at the time, the money-small as it was, convinced him that his partner “meant business. CAKE & EAT IT, TOO Even though she didn’t submit for it, even though thousands did, the director of CAKE picture-picked CeCe to be stand-in and photo double for the biggest female star on the planet-Jennifer Aniston, a six week job that paid around $8000. Both CeCe and Christian agreed that God had smiled upon her kindness in taking in her ex temporarily. MAY 7LA RESURRECTION CeCe meets an “English director woman” who wants to read the shelved script. The woman is impressed and says that with a re-write, she can possibly help get the script to “people.” Once again, the project is resurrected and now that Christian is crashed at CeCe’s, co- writing with her seems to justify the couple living together yet again.

JULY Christian now couch surfing in yet another friends apt, had finished planning CHRYSALIS HOLLYWOOD-a venue (L.A. Center Studios), a panel of guest speakers (including CeCe and her MTV VJ woman friend) photographers, promo postcards and a gorgeous web site he had designed and built-all for a few hundred dollars a month. Christian and his partner planned to split the profits 50/50 with Christian paying back the monthly stipend he was using to live on. Ahead of his time, Christian even accepted Bitcoin on the website. AUGUST 1 Dark Knight of the Soul. Chrysalis Hollywood partnership tanks when a new partner, a christian Hollywood producer suggests that Christian ought to be paid a living wage, for managing the project. At a Malibu meeting, Christians woman business partner agrees but a few days later, changed her mind, deciding that Christian ought to work at Starbucks, instead as he continues to manage the event. At the worst time of his life, CeCe insists that he move to what looks like a sketchy living arrangement in Pasadena at a friend of the producers home. Out of money, Chrysalis crashed, self esteem totally shot, he prays to God “take me out of this world.” An epiphany at the “Al Pastor” Taco Stand on the corner, where he is tongue-lashed by an enraged, 6’ 5” black man, upset at the recent Donald Sterling NBA revelations, changes Christians mind, renewing his will to live and restoring his joy. He has experienced, at a Taco Stand, what he has dreamed of accomplishing, in a movie. He now knows it can be done. SEPTEMBER CeCe is given a plane ticket back home to Houston, to visit her Dad and half sister. Christian, instead of moving, has the place all to himself for two weeks, promises to finally finish the re-write, this time adding a 3rd act inspired by the premise of a huge female star being abducted and CeCe, as her photo double, being asked to finish the film which leads to an astonishing rise to the Oscar’s. OCTOBER Deciding to do a “raise” like the ones she has experience doing in past jobs, CeCe asks Christian to create a 50 page “PPM” for 7 L.A., copied from the Private Placement Memorandum CeCe still had from her last boss. CeCe uses lead lists, Christian asks a few friends to cold call as “Fronters” and another to be a closer. Several attempts are made to raise funds by calling investors from the Dunn & Bradstreet lead lists but all the investors were burned and not about to get burned again. Zero dollars were raised; maybe a good thing at the time. Another lesson learned. THANKSGIVING The director of an A-list film starring Sandra Bullock and Bradley Cooper is actually impressed with the writing but passes. The creator of a wildly popular TV series was interested. CeCe and Christian are encouraged that the project is gaining traction. Someone from a Craiglist ad asks if CeCe and Christian would consider doing the film as a musical and is never heard from again. Years later, LaLa Land is released- a musical about an actress trying to make it in Hollywood. LAST HOURS OF 2014 Christian has an incredibly vivid dream where he meets Lindsay Lohan at a tiny Church worship service at an unknown SoCal location. 2015 January 7 A friend of CeCe’s from the Raleigh Studios job, calls out of the blue and phone-introduces CeCe to Michael Lohan- Lindsay’s Dad, who says he might be able to help connect the team to some major players. CeCe meets with a old friend from acting school who refers him to a young black guy, “Mr. RED Camera,” who offers to shoot the pitch trailer “for free,” which turns into a “$600 rental fee” because “the original camera is broken and in the shop.” At the same time, Christian is told of an older white gentleman, Dan, who might invest in the project. He meets CeCe and agrees to fund the pitch trailer, investing as a producer, $2000 towards that effort. FEBRUARY Deciding to try crowd funding, 60-something Berkley hippy director Barry Young,(Bedford Falls)-the guy who had fired the couple when Christians Mom was dying, in a kind gesture, shoots and edits a video for their Indie GoGo campaign. The 60-day effort fails to raise any money- but the ultra hip Miles Davis soundtracked video is universally praised as awesome! MARCH Mr. RED camera totally blows it, forgetting to turn on the proper camera setting after a miracle opens the door for cast and crew to shoot on location at the Dolby theater. Not knowing that the gaff can be fixed in post, the guy keeps making excuses, delaying and deleting footage when asked to produce footage or a rough copy of the trailer.   JUNE Finally complete, the pitch trailer with RED footage looks impressive however the random clips are confusing because Mr. RED camera refused to include stock shots needed to fill out the story. The success of JOY and other similar films inspires CeCe and Christian to re-brand the script as a “female empowerment story” then again, as a “Cinderella story.” 2016 MARCH Finally, Some breaks! Christian is paid $5000 to write a Greek Film Comedy and moves to the West Side. SUMMER SETBACK “EJ” a middle aged black man, says “God told me that I was supposed to help” -create a shooting schedule and a production board, that would help get an insurance bond that would guarantee $300,000 to start pre-production. His connection- TOM, had worked with Spielberg on JAWS. After a month of EJ hanging out in CeCe’s apt all day, every day, doing alot of good work but arguing over details...it turned out that EJ was living out of his Mercedes. Eventually, his wild claims of being God became intolerable and CeCe kicked him off the project. With a web site, a pitch trailer, Barry’s awesome video and a script getting positive coverage, CeCe goes out to schmooze on a regular basis, garnering many pitch meetings with film professionals but none have yet to buy. CeCe meets AMIRA a gorgeous 30- something brunette actress who she sees playing the young version of herself in the film. With Middle eastern ancestry and exotic seductive eyes, Amira and CeCe are quite the team in schmoozing. Amira introduces CeCe to a woman who suggests the need for a PITCH DECK. Christian, now living in a Santa Monica Bungalow, takes a month or two to create a PITCH DECK and adds it to website. Its a huge job which usually pays around $3000 but he does it on spec, as usual, sowing more hours of blood, sweat and tears into the dream. More meetings, more parties. An Asian man has connections to WANDA, the massive Chinese entertainment conglomerate. The pitch deck is adjusted to include Chinese talent Bing Bing Lee. The Asian man emails the pitch deck to WANDA, who apparently passes without word.

Fall 2016 - LaLa Land is released while CeCe attends AFM. CeCe Meets Indie Film Producer “Paul.” Paul likes the script and promises a “50/50 chance it will go into production” if they hire another writer for yet another re-write.   2017. Spring CeCe and Christian are crushed to see so many of their elements in LaLa Land: Griffith Park Observatory, which can be seen out CeCe’s living room window, plays a key role as well. CeCe and Christian have been hiking in Griffith for years, dreaming of the day they “make it to the top of Mt. Hollywood.” Their script opens with a spoken word poem which references the “agony and the ecstasy, side by side, on the 405 (freeway)”; LaLa Land opens with a SoCal freeway dance number. CeCe and Christians relationship had a poignant ending over career and money; so did the lead characters in LaLa Land (rare and unusual choices for Hollywood movies) CeCe and Christian wrote about and had a fascination for, Breakfast at Tiffanys, Audrey Hepburn and classic Hollywood. LLL had a fascination for Ingrid Bergman and included a play written about her by the female lead. In another bizarre synchronicity, LaLa Land won, then lost, the Best Picture Oscar, which seemed ironic and possibly even karmic-there is no way they knew for sure. CeCe and Christians script climaxed in a bizarre Oscar moment. Was life imitating art or art imitating life? Christian posts on a facebook Hollywood writers group, looking for a 3rd writer. Around 5-7 are called in, for an interview at Christians place in Santa Monica. Randy, who was mentored by Desperate Housewives creator Marc Cherry, is picked. JUNE  Randy is hired to re-write, does a bang up job in a month but his version is not yet quite Cinderell-esque enough. JULY Christian offers a plot outline for a present-day Cinderella story. Randy kindly agrees to start yet another re-write, framing it more closely in a modern day Cinderella plot outline. DECEMBER CeCe’s Dad, who had supported the project with regular financial provision for a year and a half, suddenly disappears. CeCe goes to the Hollywood station to file a Police report. A few hours later, her Dad calls- he’s driven all night to Houston and will no longer support her because his sister in Louisiana and an elder woman friend in Houston have poisoned his mind against her, Christian and the project, saying “the two are winos and the movie is a pipe dream.” 2018 June Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain become the latest celebrity suicide victims, harsh and sad reminders for CeCe and Christian, that the work remains unfinished. Randy, with a full time job on a movie, has still not yet finished a re-write. CeCe is interviewed by another beautiful young Texan coming to Hollywood-Holly, for her YouTube show “Higher Living.” Christian is present at the interview at CeCe’s apt, with Griffith Park out the dark window. He’s inspired by the question “have you written a book?” -and realizes that’s the ONE THING he and CeCe have yet to do. THIS IS THAT BOOK.   Now back to the opening scene where one of Hollywood’s biggest stars stands “accused” -two decades later! -of impregnating a vulnerable, innocent young actress...with an idea. Why cant more sexually charged meet-cutes end up triumphant like this and not tragic, like Harvey Weinstein? Shifting topical mode here, from straight biography and story telling, to a little preachin’- after all, the entire project comes from a desire to share love and faith, with a oft cold, hard Hollywood that eats people alive... -sexual mores and attitudes tend to veer towards one extreme or the other: extreme legalism or extreme licentiousness. Both extremes are extremely...toxic, to human sexuality. The hijab and burkha is toxic legalism. In a good faith attempt to “protect” women, women are subjugated. The other extreme, the Hollywood extreme, veers too often into porn and nudity. In a good faith effort to “liberate” women, women are instead deified and objectified. Ironically, both cultures start out trying to help women but end up hurting them. (extremely) Lets face it, women have always been abused by Alpha males, since the dawn of time. But the “sexual liberation” movements of the 60’s, whole heartedly adopted and promoted by HOLLYWOOD, PLAYBOY, COSMOPOLITAN, ROCK & ROLL and other culture-makers, threw gasoline on the fire of male lust and sexual abuse. We sent abusers like Weinstein mixed signals and he merely conformed to them. He adopted a “pro-women” stance while abusing and terrorizing women. His idea of “pro-woman” was to fund abortion rights groups, clinics and politics.  But is it possible that such a stance was merely an attempt to create a “free pass” -to abuse women? So it seems. So what’s the answer? How can we slow or stop powerful men from abusing vulnerable women? We can’t. It will never 100% stop on this earth. But we can slow it down and here’s how: Lets give a second look to perhaps the most iconic IKON in all of history. It’s the single most popular piece of Jewelry, the ultimate fashion statement and also the symbol of the most popular spiritual movement of all time:   THE CROSS. Lets open our eyes and heart to a new way of understanding its mystery, it’s secrets. I would like to humbly suggest looking at the CROSS as “center” “cross hairs”, “target,” as “bull's-eye.”   We like to say that we need to get “centered.” We talk about “heart” which is another way of saying “center.” We use word phrases like sweet spot- yet another way of saying “heart” or “center.” The fact is, Jesus being nailed to a cross was an invitation to all people of all times, to the perfection that exists only in the center, the heart, the sweet spot. Outside of that spot misses the mark, is out of balance and unhealthy. And we can see that with #MeToo. We as Americans and Westerners “missed the mark” by a mile. “Sexual freedom” has legitimized licentiousness and thrown gasoline on the fires of lust. At the same time, the other half of the world, seeing the rapes, the excess and the harm “the great satan” has done to women, missed the mark by a mile in the opposite direction, with clothing, rules and laws that attempt to control women. You may have your own personal opinion about which is worse and that’s probably based only on how you were raised. But its easy to see, if you open your mind, that neither culture is really helpful to women and that no sane, thinking woman would choose either, given the chance to actually think about it. There is yet another way of understanding the cross. Its the idea that few of us hit the mark. Its the idea that hitting the mark is not easy, it takes ALOT of practice. Its the idea that we actually have a FOCUS in a culture where “anything goes” or “all roads lead to God.” We have ONE SINGULAR TARGET/FOCUS but better than that, we have the understanding that most of the time, most people MISS that target, yet that’s no cause for condemnation, judgment or penalty. When an archer misses the target, they are not penalized for “bad behavior.” Instead, it’s “OK, grab another arrow and try again.” In philosophical terms, we call this “forgiveness” “mercy” and “grace.” Sexual liberation, like Archery, cant work unless practiced in a setting of mercy, forgiveness and grace. Powerful men, when they fall, deserve forgiveness if they are willing to apologize and make restitution for missing the mark. Women who are victimized, need to forgive themselves, because, its not their fault. Now, about “redemptive stories.”: Why are Church folk so insistent on “redemptive” stories and why is this author proposing them as another way of addressing the #MeToo problem? I realized that writing our story will help people understand CeCe and myself. I realized that part of what made our struggle so hard for the last two decades --the prime of our lives-- was that many around us- even well meaning people, didn’t “get us” and many even judged us. The two most common assumption/judgments people around us made, were: 1. We or I were somehow “lazy” or unwilling to work or unwilling to take “whatever jobs we could get.” And... 2. “They must have some secret sin that they are hiding that is causing all this trouble.” People entertained these thoughts, judgments and ideas because it made the world a safer place for them. No one wants to live in a place where “bad things happen to good people.” In our case, bad things seemed to happen over and over for a very long time. An “explanation” had to be found. Few are prepared to think that the world is really that harsh or that God doesn’t help good people-so these “explanations” were devised, to explain our woes. After all, we seemed like hard workers, like such sweet, kind caring people. We seemed like good tax-paying citizens. So how could we be going through such difficulties? While there may have been a grain of truth in these explanations, one can see from reading our story that one thing is for sure: we tried. We hustled. We did just about everything we were told to do, everything the professionals suggested and yet, during those years, we STILL managed to evade success at every turn. And I do think that being surrounded by well meaning people and not so well meaning people who are confused by you, who don’t get you or who judge you certainly can hinder or even block success. Don’t believe me? Look at Jesus: most people, not even his closest friends, his disciples, “got him” during his lifetime. They judged him, they thought he was crazy and ultimately, their judgment on him was a brutal death. But what happened after that? What transformed Jesus from a judged, crucified, mis- understood Rabbi into the most popular spiritual leader of all time? Of course, the bible says that the spirit of God accomplished that and that’s a great spiritual answer but in the natural world, it was a BOOK. “THE GOSPEL OF MARK” explained and transformed Jesus, the man and the reason for his life. Reading the book, people finally “got it.” Great books bring order out of a chaotic world. They comfort and explain. THIS BOOK is an attempt to explain this writer and his writing partner. And in the same way, MOVIES have that same narrative power, a power which too often goes un- used in Hollywood. Movies can help explain a world that seems to be spinning out of control, into chaos. In “real life” we witness horrible tragedy and cant make sense of it. Then we enter into a dark movie theater. Then light shines out of the darkness. The light brings ANSWERS and the answers comfort us. We leave, having been refreshed with new answers, having processed and understood why “bad things happen to good people.” (Three act structure, remember?) There is no better feeling than the “OK, now I get it” feeling. There is nothing greater (other than love) for a human, than to UNDERSTAND and to have WISDOM from repeated understanding. The more we understand, the wiser we become. Great movies can do all of this. We can “escape” a world of chaos and confusion and enter into a world of order and understanding. But it helps when the film makers are intentional about these goals and this is where the front lines of the Battle for the soul of Hollywood is being fought. It was in this culture war where Harvey Weinstein’s crimes were allowed and accepted “just because” “you know, that’s how he is.” If we don’t begin to re-center our culture and our movies, aiming for a sweet spot between legalism and licentiousness, nothing will change. We can no longer send men mixed messages that women’s liberation means women are “up for anything.” They are not. There is in fact, a very narrow target of what helps women and its called the “heart” or the “center.” In fact, we say that such a desire even comes from “the heart.” So, redemptive movies are “heart movies” that aim for a sweet spot between the excess of extreme licentiousness and legalism. Yes, they can be sexy. There can be hot babes in bikinis. Sex can be playful and alluded to. But there needs to boundaries. There needs to be an agreed upon, established “target,” a moral code of right and wrong. Damon’s encounter with CeCe, twenty-three years ago at this writing, was just such an encounter. Of course, sex played a part, a girl met a boy and they were attracted to each other; yet that didn’t need to end in abuse or licentiousness. Instead, it became a seed that has majestically grown into this book and hopefully, a movie. CeCe & Christian’s hope and prayer is that this story can serve as a witness that there is still hope: hope for a society where every sexual encounter does not have to end in a one night stand but maybe in something so much greater. In the words of John Lennon and Paul Mcartney ”let it be!” “When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me. Speaking words of wisdom, let it be. And in my hour of darkness She is standing right in front of me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be. Let it be, let it be. Whisper words of wisdom, let it be. And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree, There will be an answer, let it be. For though they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see. There will be an answer, let it be. Let it be, let it be. There will be an answer, let it be. And when the night is cloudy, There is still a light that shines on me, Shine on until tomorrow, let it be.”

#book #books #biographies #movies #development

[mikebigby-blog]

3 chapters of my abandoned NaNoWriMo of ‘12

Yo.  Back in the Mo of No, 2012, I started to Wri a No for NaNoWriMo.  I uploaded the first three chaps to Facebook and honestly, it went down extremely well.  However, despite the overwhelming demand, I never finished it.  The pressure got to me I guess.  

Anyway, here it is; in the tradition of The Original Laura, The First Man and Go Set a Watchman... A great unfinished masterpiece. 

The Concert of Silk by Mike Bigby

CHAPYER ONE: A Dark Mysterious Man Gets Stewph to Cheat :(

Barry loomed over her because he was taller than her, he whispered sexily “I want you”. At that moment Steph knew in her 27 year old brain that she wanted Barry too, but she felt overwhelming trepidation, “I don’t know” she thought to herself with her 27 year old brain, she had no business with a man like Barry , he was much much older than her, like 13 years older because he was 40, and what would Dave, her extremely intelligent and sensitive BF think. He’d think “oh no” and Steph didn’t know if she could do that to him.

Barry noticed her scaredness and sat back in his giant super manly chair that he had been previously been sitting in and lit a cigar which he pulled from his cigar pouch (?), he lit it and drew heavily from it. “Ah the salubrious smoke of cigars” he said in a moody but complex sounding tone crossing and uncrossing his chino clad legs. That was it, Steph had to have him, in her mind nothing was sexier than moody, complex sounding tones, long words and cigars.  His chinoclad legs however, she would prefer unchino clad. 

She pounced.

In an instant their clothes were on the floor because they had taken them off and put them there in order to engage in “marital relations” even though they weren’t married, a juicy but forbidden fruit. They hopped into the bed that was also in the room and began to do it, “oh my” steph said, “shh” barry replied “I’m concentrating”.

A short time later they were finished doing it and lying in bed. Barry reached for the phone that was on the bedside table which was beside the bed and called room service because they were in a hotel. “bring me a brandy because I’m a manly type of guy, and something sweet for the lady I have with me” he said winking at the phone in an attempt to suggest the recent goings on to the guy that was on the phone.

Steph was filled with fear and guilt, but how could something that feels so right also feels so wrong? That’s complex emotions right there and dealing with that makes steph a complex character.

There was a knock at the door to the room in which Steph and Barry were lying in bed all naked, “come in” said Barry in a come-in sort of tone. The door swung open and there was a silhouette of a guy with a tray of drinks at the door because the room was dark but outside was light. Barry threw on the light and the guy at the door was illuminated. IT WAS DAVE!

“How could I forget Dave works here at this hotel which I also work at?” thought Steph

There was a silence in the room that filled the room with silence

“oh no” whispered ddave wipping tears from his face.

CHATPER 2“ AN EXTRACT FROM THE DIARY OF DAVE

OMG memoir I JUST WALKED IN ON STEPH AND A baffling GUY AT THE saloon IN ONE OF THE HOTELS ROOMS WERE WE WORK!

Incant BELEVE IT! ARGH IM SO UPSET ABOUT IT AND THATS WHY IM SHOUTING.

Im sorry diary I didn’t denote to bellow at you. Im just really derelict up at th moment. It feels like my hollow muscular organ that pumps the blood through the circulatory system by rhythmic contraction and dilationhas been ripped out.

I feel affection for steph and she did this thing to me. I’m so sad right now and nothing my super intelligent brain does to help me think about it is helping me think about it.

Gadzooks! He was so myusterious and I cant contend with that for the reason that im a really candid chap who will be ultimately right for steph at the end of the book I mean not book. real life.

IM SO SAD WRIGHT NOW ARHGJH. Im thinking about assassination my self because im such an quixotic yardstick imbecile. I think im gonna right some poetry because Im really artisctic

“oh steph You are the best But not really now Im wearing a vest And I have a weak mans chest But you cheated and it hurt: ow!”

ALL I CAN THINK about it how that man and steph were all entwined with one another and I think its allOur relationship was so inchoately innovative What an tantamount expedient thing to do by sleeping with that guy who is really manly. IS SHE NOT SATISFIED WITH ALL MY IQ’s. I want to sketch a picture of her perfect body cos again,  im really artistic.

( . ( . ) ) . ( ( Y )

I have to go on a expedition to vitiate their new relationship so that I can get her back. Maybe it’s because she likes him because he is really rich and im parsimonious.

Thanks diary you’re the best.

DAVE OUT

Chatper 3 BARRY BEING BARRY

“SHIT” thought Barry in his head, but not in an oh-no way like dave but in a laughy kind of way because he was really dark.

“what do we do barry?” said steph “round two” said barry. Steph felt sick at the thought, how could he be so insensitive at a time like this? But also, insensitvenes is really sexy so she said “ok” and they banged again.

It took a lot longer the second time around because barry was having “trouble” but eventually it got done. He stood up, his perfect, Adonis like buns glinted in the moonlight that was seeping in through the window which was in a wall right next to where barry was. “wow” thought steph, barry was much had much more muscular buns than dave, she couldn’t help but get all randy again.

“Lets do it again” cried steph as barry pulled on his really expensive chinos, “bitch please” replied barry, “always leabe them wanting more” he thought to himself darkly.

At that moment another lady walked by the door which was stil open because dave left it open. “oh my” said the lady glancing at barry’s awesome guns and abs and that, “keep walking lady” barry said. He was dark, but he knew how to treat the ladies, he didn’t want steph to get all jelly and he’s therefore morally ambiguous like that guy from star wars who wears the vest or something. Yeah imagine he’s that guy but with chinos on.

“when will I see you again barry?” said steph. “maybe soon, maybe not soon” replied barry. Steph was confused but intrigued by his mysdterious tone. He put on his$million pond watch and left.

Leaving steph still all naked and confused about him and him being myusterious but also confused and sad because of dave.

Barry got in the lift, went down three floors because he had been on the third floor, walked through the reception, winked at the receptionist who was another lady, slapped another ladies buns and high fived the porter who was a guy and slapping his buns would have been gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay it’s just that isn’t barriers style because he isn’t gay… YET! No seriously .

as he left the building he looked really cool and the song Lapdance by NERD was playing in his heads. He got in the 2 $million pound mazda rx8 which was his because he bought it with all his money (by the way he’s totally rich, but that’s not why steph likes him, she likes him but doesn;’t care about his money which means she deserves him and all his money.)

As he drove away he thought about steph’s blond hair and her pretty face and her blue eyes and her sexy SEXY bod and her buns and all the rest (now you know what steph looks like) and he got a bonr while driving which is illegal. He then thought about dave and got sad because dave seemed like a really smart guy because barry isn’t shallow, he’s complex and morally ambiguous.

He thought about it lots but then was like “nahhh hit ‘em and quit ‘em” which was his motto and drove off into the night. BUT DID HE?

Sadly we will never know.  I had something of a plan that, in the tradition of Twilight and its many knock offs, Barry would be revealed to be an updated-for-modern-audiences / sexy Loch Ness Monster, but that’s about all I can tell you about what might have happened next.