#next week to see my beloved friend...... peace and love...... i will not succumb to the haters mindset................

[b-blushes]

small joy of the day is looking forward to washing my hair after getting a haircut, it's always the most satisfying thing to me for some reason <3

[gilbertandanne]

An (Un)Fortunate Lily Maid

A/N: Still working on the modern AU, but since I’m all up in my feels over season three still, I wanted to write a little post S3 one shot.  Takes place four months after the 3.10 finale.

Characters: Anne Shirley Cuthbert; Gilbert Blythe

Relationship: Anne Shirley Cuthbert/Gilbert Blythe

Rating: PG

Word Count: 5,345

Also located on AO3

-

Nearly four months after she first stepped into the next chapter of her life, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert was finally back home.  Even though it was only for a few short weeks, she was grateful that would be able to spend more than one or two fleeting nights in her dear gable room.  Charlottetown was only a short train ride away, a fact that she was continuously grateful for because whenever missing her dear family simply became too much to bear, she’d use some of her travel fund to return home.

Not that she didn’t love Queen’s and all it afforded her.

In fact, she enjoyed it far more than she imagined she would.  Her homesickness was curbed for the most part due to the fact that most of her former classmates were there as well.  Most of the time, she could imagine that they were all back in the old schoolhouse, learning about things well outside the standardized curriculum from one of her greatest inspirations: her dear, Miss Stacy.

Inadvertently, she’d be pulled from her reverie by the ramblings of one professor or another.  It wasn’t that she didn’t like her teachers.  They were all well-esteemed in their own right, but what she wouldn’t give to turn the clock back a year—if only for a day.

The girls had flourished during those first few months in Charlottetown.  There had been a few minor tiffs amongst them over the last few months, which was natural given the fact that they were suddenly living with one another.  Whenever an argument popped up, Anne found herself grateful that she and Diana had yet to have any sort of conflict.  Perhaps their separation last spring afforded them the opportunity to see the bigger picture.  Anne was pleasantly surprised that Diana wasn’t bothered at all by her desire to ‘burn the midnight oil’, so to speak.  Anne spent most of her nights studying, reading, or—whenever the inspiration struck—writing.  Diana told her that she felt an odd sense of comfort in the soft glow of Anne’s lamp.  

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, being back at Green Gables was strange.  She was so used to sharing her room with her best friend that the last few nights without her were a little too quiet.  She was used to the girls’ raucous giggling and constant plotting on ways to skirt around Mrs. Blackmore’s rules.  To her credit, Anne abstained from most of their antics.  She had changed.  She wasn’t the same girl who snuck out in the middle of the night to dance around a fire or drink moonshine with the rest of her class.  No, she was too preoccupied with making the best marks she could so that, hopefully, she’d earn a scholarship and alleviate the financial burden of her education from her adopted parents.

Not to mention the fact that staying busy also helped her to miss him less.

Toronto wasn’t nearly as far away as Paris, but it might as well have been.

Anne wrote to him nearly every other day and given the frequency of the letters she received from him, she supposed that he had found a way to maintain the same pace.  She told him all about her quest to find her lineage and all that she discovered about her biological parents in the book Marilla and Matthew retrieved from Mrs. Thomas.  In return, Gilbert told her all about his studies, his new group of friends, and how Dr. Emily Oak had become his mentor.  Whenever Anne visited home, she’d report back to Gilbert on how Bash and Delphine were doing—although she was certain that he and Bash frequently wrote to one another.  She kept him up to date on all of the misadventures of their friends and assured him that she managed to stay out of mischief—for the most part.

It was almost as if he were there with her, but—she constantly had to remind herself—he wasn’t.  In fact, while she still had several follow-up questions from that fateful day outside of her boarding house, she had only ever asked a select few.  The most vital ones, the ones that had practically driven her mad, she never inquired about.  What if it had all been a dream?  She had pinched herself in the midst of it all, but had that been enough to ensure that her imagination hadn't invaded reality?  He never once said that he loved her, only that he had feelings for her.  Winifred was certain that his feelings for Anne were classified as love—she had even used that exact word in her explanation to Anne—but hearing it from someone else wasn’t the same as hearing it directly from the source.  He hadn’t once spoken of his feelings in any of his letters, so Anne held back, took his lead, and kept her correspondence light.

After all, they would be miles apart for God only knew how long.  A lot could change in that time.

Perhaps, it already had.

Frustrated with her current train of thought, Anne left the warmth of her dear Green Gables.  Maybe the frigid December air would help to clear her mind.  Matthew and Marilla had gone to Carmody for the day to run errands.  Diana and her family were out of town.  Gilbert wouldn’t be home for the holidays and the LaCroix family had gone to Charlottetown for a few days so that Constance and Jocelyn could see Delphine.

A sudden gust of wind immediately sent a chill down her spine; nevertheless, she persisted in her quest to visit her beloved Lake of Shining Waters.  The pond belonged to the Barry’s, but Anne often escaped to the pond to seek inspiration and get out of her own mind for a little while.  She had hoped Christmas in Avonlea would be so hectic that she wouldn’t have time to miss Gilbert Blythe, but everywhere she went, there he was.

Only, he wasn’t.

She half expected the pond to be frozen over by now but was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by its shimmering waters.  She greeted the water with a soft smile.  “At least you haven’t changed.”  It had been a relatively mild winter thus far.  The temperature hadn’t sunk far below freezing until just a few days earlier when the first snow of the season hit her beloved island.

As Anne walked around the pond, she recalled the first time she beheld its beauty.  It prompted her to pinch herself for the first of many times that day.  She couldn’t believe that she could ever live near such an enchanting place.  Even now, as she watched the water shimmer against the snow-covered ground, she stood in awe of this little spot.  As she made her way toward the Barry’s small dock, her gaze shifted to the small dory that rested right on the shore.  “My one regret,” she sighed as she walked toward it.  She was to be Elaine that unfortunate day, but Mrs. Barry stopped them from acting out Tennyson’s tragical tale.  

She bit the inside of her cheek as she glanced at the water before looking back at the small boat.  Granted, it would be more fun if the girls were with her, but Anne was well aware of the fact that she was only allowed a few more years of adolescent fun before she’d finally be forced to grow up.  Even now, she constantly heard that she looked grown up.  Sometimes someone would remark that she was grown up.  “I’m only 16,” she muttered as she inched closer to the small boat.  “Maturation doesn’t happen overnight.”  This could very well be the only chance she had to portray the lily maid.  No one was there to stop her this time.

Her mind made up, she dusted off the small layer of snow in the boat before she nudged it closer to the water.  She shivered as she removed the blanket she had wrapped around herself and laid it down on the boat.  She glanced at her coat.  Elaine certainly did not float down to Camelot in a coat.  “It’ll only be for a few minutes,” she rationalized before she unbuttoned it and sat it on the post next to the dory.  She carefully stepped onto the boat and sat at the edge.  She pushed herself off of the shore before she laid down, eager to coast along the pond.

The gray sky above her darkened as she stared at the clouds above.  It would be dark soon, but the train back from Carmody wouldn’t be at Bright River for a few hours yet.  

A few minutes into her trek, she slowly closed her eyes.  This was exactly what her soul needed: a moment of peace mixed in with a childish flight of fancy.  She smiled softly.  Perhaps, she didn’t have to grow up quite yet.  Just as she took a breath of that sweet Avonlea air, the boat tilted, and a rush of cold water suddenly splashed her from behind.

Anne’s eyes shot open and she immediately sat upright.  Her eyes widened when she realized that the boat must have had a hole in the bottom.  The small dory was quickly sinking and she, a mediocre swimmer at best, was in the middle of the pond.  The LaCroix’s were gone, the Barry’s were gone, and her adopted parents were out of town.  There was no one else around for miles.  

She desperately tried to row herself near one of the edges, but she was so anxious that the only oar she had slipped from her nearly frozen fingers and fell to the murky depths below.  Without another thought, she tried to row with her hands, to no avail.  The boat was simply taking on too much water.

Was this it?  Would this be her untimely end—just as she was on the cusp of the rest of her life?  She briefly hoped Marilla would remember her request to place pink roses on her grave.  She wondered if her loved ones would cry, would remember her fondly in the coming years.   She wondered if Gilbert would be able to come to the funeral, or if he’d even want to.  

When the boat finally dipped below the water line, Anne began to flail around in the frigid water.  As she gasped for air, her thoughts turned to her family.  As badly as she wanted to meet her biological parents, she had hoped she’d be able to spend a little more time with her adopted ones first.  Then, just before her frozen body succumbed to the pull of the lake she had loved for so long, she heard an all too familiar voice call out to her.  She tried to focus her gaze on the rapidly approaching figure, but couldn’t find the energy to.  It was all too much.  When she heard the sweet sound of her name on the caller’s lips once more, she smiled despite her situation.  

At least she got to hear his voice one last time.

~*~

She wasn’t sure how long she had been submerged under the freezing water.  It felt like days, but knew it was merely a few seconds before she felt a rush of air fill her lungs once again.  She gasped before she began to cough up the water from the pond.  She felt herself glide across the water, her frozen limbs securely wrapped around her savior.  Her hair was a drenched, a tangled mess that shielded her vision.  She focused her attention on breathing, on trying not to choke on the water that she continued to cough up.  She couldn’t feel much, only the sharp pang of the freezing water as it pierced her body.  

How could she have been so reckless?

By the time she reached the shore, she supposed that at least half of her body had gone completely numb from the water.  The other half ached from the battle she nearly lost with the pond she so dearly loved.  She couldn’t feel the coldness from the blanket of snow underneath her.  She couldn’t feel her fingers at all, but somehow managed to swipe the hair out of her face as she tried to force air through her lungs.  She focused her vision on the dark grey sky above.  Then, she heard her name once more.  She turned her head toward the sound.

Had she actually died?

She wouldn’t be able to feel it even if she possessed the energy to pinch herself, so she merely stared up at the concerned face that hovered over her.

“Anne, Anne, can you hear me?  Anne, please…nod if you can understand me.”

She slowly nodded, still unsure if she was in Avonlea or if she had been ushered into the next world.  She never thought heaven would look just like Avonlea, but how else would it explain the presence of someone who should be a thousand miles away?

“I’ll be right back,” he assured her before he sprinted away.  Anne shifted her attention back up toward the sky as she tried to steady her rapidly beating heart.  

By the time he returned, she was able to move her lips.  As he wrapped his jacket, as well as a blanket, around her, she tried to focus on her words.  “W-W-W-What are y-y-you d-d-d-oing-g-g—”

He gave her a small smile before he slowly helped her up.  When she stumbled, he made the decision to pick her up and carry her.  “I could ask you the same question,” he answered as he made his way toward the carriage.  “You need to get warm before you catch pneumonia.”

“Not at—not at G-G-Green Gables,” she huffed, frustrated that she couldn’t seem to control her stammer at the moment.  “I don’t want…Matthew…Marilla.”

Gilbert nodded as he helped her in the buggy.  He understood what she meant without needing to explain further.  She didn’t want them to see her so disheveled because then she’d be forced to explain how she ended up in the pond in the first place.  “We’ll go back to my place then.”

Anne shivered in response.    

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” he responded before he grabbed the reigns and ushered them toward the Blythe-LaCroix farm.

~*~

Anne had regained feeling in most of her fingers and toes by the time they reached Gilbert’s house.  She was still freezing and drenched head to toe, but maybe she wouldn’t end up with frost bite.

She managed to get into the house without any assistance from the concerned medical student.  As soon as he closed the door behind him, Gilbert hurried toward the fireplace.  “We need to get you warm,” he commented before he turned back to look at her.  He noticed the state of her clothing and took a deep breath.  “You need to change out of those clothes.  They’re soaked.”

Anne glanced down at her appearance.  “But Matthew and Marilla, I—”

“Just…long enough to dry them off,” he clarified.  “Follow me.”

Anne followed him wordlessly up the stairs.  She had been in his house dozens of times, but never once had she ventured upstairs.  Although she couldn’t be certain, she had a feeling exactly where she was headed.  At the mere thought, she shivered.

She lingered in the doorway, even as Gilbert went into—she presumed—his room.  She watched curiously as he pulled a few things from a couple of drawers.  “These will probably be a little loose,” he began as he gestured to the pants in his hands, “So, you can wear these with them,” he reached for a pair of suspenders.  “I…um…if you don’t know how to…” he stopped his movements when he realized just what he was trying to say.  Dear God, was he about to suggest that he could help her put his suspenders on?  He laughed nervously.

“I know,” she answered just as bashfully.  “This wouldn’t…um…this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve worn men’s clothes.”

Gilbert’s head snapped up to look at her.  “What?”

“Um…it was two years ago…when you came back from Trinidad with Bash and my hair was…” she sighed.  “You know what?  Long story…it doesn’t matter.”

Gilbert was definitely curious about what sort of adventure led her to wear men’s clothing.  To be honest, he wanted to know everything he could about her.  He had been curious about the redhead since the day they met, and now, nearly four years later, she still seemed like an enigma most of the time.  “Ok.  Well, I’ll…leave you...to it…I guess.”  He handed her the clothes and gave her a small smile before he walked out of the room and back down the stairs.

Anne looked down at the clothes and sighed.  How did she always end up in these predicaments?

~*~

Even though she had never worn suspenders before, she figured out how to attach them very quickly, much to her relief.  She simply had no other option.  If she couldn’t figure it out, then she would have found something else to cinch the waist of the slightly-too-large-for-her pants.  There was no way she’d ask Gilbert to help her put on clothes—even if those clothes were his.  ‘Oh, if Marillia saw this,’ she cringed before she looked up at herself in the mirror.  She smirked as she slowly examined her appearance.  The clothes were too big on her, but still, she couldn’t help but to admire the fashion.  Miss Stacy was the only other woman she had seen in suspenders and trousers before and while Anne admired the look, she knew she’d never get away with that—at least, while she was still at Queen’s.  Her smile widened as she turned around to get a full look at herself.  Miss Jeannie did say that trousers were the ‘it’ fashion in Paris.  Perhaps the style would make its way overseas and it wouldn’t be so abnormal for a woman to wear them.  Even though she couldn’t forget whose clothes they belonged to, she still found them quite comfortable.  

As she helplessly tried to tame her tangled locks into a single loose braid, she wondered how long it would take for her clothes to dry.  She wasn’t sure if Matthew and Marilla were back yet.  If so, she knew it would still be a little while before they would begin to worry about her.  Still, she hadn’t seen Gilbert since that day outside of her boarding house and she wasn’t entirely sure what the rules were anymore when it came to their relationship.

Besides, she hadn’t expected to see him at all until next spring.  She thought she still had a few more months of self-doubt to process before she was forced to pretend that she hadn’t thought about those stolen moments every single day since he left.  She reached for her wet clothes.  If her need for adventure hadn’t gotten in the way, she’d be curled up with a book in the safe confines of her room instead of sporting Gilbert Blythe’s clothes in his bedroom.

‘You’ll learn one day,’ she told herself as she walked toward the door.  Before she left, she spun around and took one last look around his room.  ‘Yes,’ she concluded, ‘This is exactly how I imagined it.’

She shifted her clothes under her arms as she descended the stairs.  When she entered the parlor, she realized that Gilbert’s back was toward her as he stoked the fire.  “Thank you.”

At the sound of her voice, Gilbert stood up and turned around.  He opened his mouth to speak, but instead, could only take in Anne’s appearance.  He had thought her beautiful since the day he first saw her, but there was something about the way she looked in that moment—clad in his own clothes, no less—that nearly took his breath away.  It was the first moment he allowed himself any amount of time to process the fact that they were sharing the same space for the first time since that frantic day in Charlottetown.  He had imagined their reunion going a hundred different ways, but never once had he conjured this up.  

He cleared his throat as he forced himself to look down at the clothes in her arms.  “I can go…hang those up.”

Anne took one look at her clothes before she shook her head.  “No, no…I can do it.”

“Oh, ok.  Well, I’m making some tea, so maybe I should go…see if that’s…if that’s ready.”

Anne watched him curiously as he practically stumbled toward the kitchen.  It was equal parts amusing and endearing to see Gilbert Blythe quite literally falling over himself.  She smirked as her gaze fell back to her clothes.  She could get used to seeing him like that.

What she wouldn’t be getting used to any time soon would be Gilbert Blythe seeing her undergarments.  She inwardly groaned as she began to hang up her clothes.  There was no way around it.  She needed to dry her clothes and the quickest way to do that was to hang them by the fire.  She tried to hide her corset underneath her dress the best way she could.  She wasn’t sure if they were courting, but even if they were, she was certain that he most certainly wasn’t permitted to see her corset, even if she wasn’t wearing it.

Her cheeks reddened at the thought.

Just as she sat her shoes in front of the fireplace, she heard him re-enter the room.  She brushed a loose tendril away from her eyes before she took the offered teacup in his hands.

He silently gestured toward the couch, but once Anne sat down, instead of sitting next to her, Gilbert sat on the chair in the corner of the room.

Anne tried to mask her disappointment.  Maybe he wasn’t that excited to see her after all?  She furrowed her eyebrows as her mind immediately jumped to several different conclusions.  Maybe she had over-romanticized what happened between them four months ago?  After all, he failed to mention it in any of his letters.

And now she was sitting in in the same room with him—alone—and in his clothes.

Unable to handle her spiraling train of thought for another moment, she looked down at her teacup.  “So, why didn’t you tell me that you were going to come back for Christmas?”

He chuckled before he took a sip of his tea.  “So, how did you end up in the middle of the pond?”

Anne cringed.  She should have known that was coming.  Some things never changed.  He always found a way to see her at her absolute worst.  At the same time, she knew that he was well aware of who she was and the fact that catastrophe seemed to follow her in spades.  “A few years ago, Diana, Ruby, Jane, and I were going to re-enact Elaine’s final voyage from ‘Lancelot and Elaine’, but just before we could, Mrs. Barry came out and…we weren’t able to.”  She paused to take a sip of her tea.  “Matthew and Marilla were in Carmody, I knew the Barry’s were out of town and with Bash and Delly being gone, I was…bored.  I remembered that I never got to act it out and when I saw that the pond wasn’t frozen over, I decided that…it was now or never.”  She turned her attention to the fire in front of her.  “There must have been a hole at the bottom.”

“And…it sunk.”

She nodded.  “And while Matthew tried to teach me how to swim…once…I’m afraid I’m not very good at it.”

“You can’t expect to be an expert at something after one lesson.”

She chuckled.  “Well, you know me…”

He nodded with a smirk before his smile completely melted into a look of concern.  “Anne, you could have died out there.  If I hadn’t—”

“I know,” she calmly interrupted as she stared at her teacup.  She didn’t want to think about what would have happened had he not been there.  “Thank you…for…for saving me.  I had already accepted my fate and…wait.”  She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked up at him.  “Why were you there?”

“Well, I was…on my way to Green Gables, actually,” was his sheepish reply.

There it was again.  That sheepish little smile that immediately sent a thrill down her spine.  “I thought you were going to stay in Toronto until the term was over?”

He sighed before he sat his cup down on the end table next to the chair.  “That was the plan, initially, but I…” he trailed off.

Anne swallowed as she sat her cup down on the table in front of her.  Was this it?  Did he come all this way to let her down, to insist that what happened that beautiful day in Charlottetown was merely a flight of fancy and nothing more?  “You…” she trailed on in an attempt to prompt his response.

“Thanks to the Barry’s, we had a…fruitful harvest.  I was able to use some of the extra money to come back for a few weeks before the spring term begins.”

“That’s great.  I mean…I’m sure you missed Bash and Delly.”

He slowly nodded.  “But…they weren’t the only ones.”  He cut his eyes up to her to gauge her reaction.  Four months.  Four long months without her.  God.  How did he ever make it a year?

Anne didn’t need for him to elaborate.  The look in his eyes said it all and she was fairly certain that it mirrored that of her own.  She, the girl who not a year earlier swore that her destiny was to be the bride of adventure, now saw a completely different future unfolding before her very eyes.  Still, he had never been so open with his emotions in any of his letters.  She cleared her throat.  “Oh?”

Propriety be damned, he couldn’t take it anymore.  He stood up only to move to the couch and sit next to her.  He hesitated for a brief moment before he placed his left hand over both of hers, which were neatly folded in her lap.  “You have no idea how much I missed you.”

Anne looked down at their joined hands before she looked back up at him.  “Why didn’t you tell me?  I kept…I kept hoping you would, but after a while, I just assumed that we were…that it…that we…weren’t.”

“I had hoped you would, especially after the letter I left in your room…when you didn’t mention it, I thought—”

“What letter?”

“The day before harvest.  I stopped by Green Gables, but no one was there, so I…I wrote you a letter. You told me that you got the pen back so I—”

Anne grimaced.  “Oh.  Well, I…I didn’t read the letter.”

Gilbert took a deep breath.  Months.  He had spent months worrying about what he had said, if it had been too much too soon, if he scared her away.  He well remembered what Diana told him that day on the train, but he had yet to hear it from Anne.  What if Diana had been wrong this entire time?  What if she didn’t reciprocate the feelings he had for her?  Now, to find out that she never read the letter in the first place?  It was a lot to take in at once.  “Why,” was the only word he was able to utter.

It was Anne’s turn to grow sheepish as she glanced back at the fire.  “I…um…I thought you had written it to tell me about your engagement to Winifred and I…I got mad because I thought…I figured with news that big that you would have…told me yourself instead of writing…a letter.”  She watched the flames dance along the log and wondered what the contents held.  “After I tore it up, I threw it out the window.  Then…my curiosity got the better of me and I…I tried to find the pieces.  From what I could find and piece back together, I assumed that you…that you two were…and then I bumped into Winifred the day you…and she told me what happened.”

He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised.  He had been on the receiving end of Anne’s temper on more than one occasion, but never, in all of the days when he tried to rationalize the reason why she never responded, had he imagined that she never read it.  “Oh.”

“But…I’m willing to listen if you…if you remember what it said.”

He looked up at her.  When he wrote it, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever see her again.  Now, it was four months later, and there they were.  He didn’t want to scare her, especially because he wasn’t certain how she felt.  Besides, it’d be years before he could ever offer her anything.  He shook his head as a playful smirk crossed his features.  “That’ll teach you to rip up my letters.”

Anne’s eyes widened.  “Gilbert Blythe!  I wasn’t the only one who failed to receive a letter.  I wrote you one as well.”

“That I never received,” he argued.  “You had mine in your hands.”  He waited a beat.  Even though he knew more about her letter than she knew about his, he still wanted to hear it from her.  “What did yours say?”

She wasn’t sure what Diana told him.  Her bosom friend remained tight-lipped about the conversation she had with Gilbert that day, but still, she didn’t want to go back to Queen’s not knowing where she stood with Gilbert Blythe and given the number of people they would see over the coming weeks, she figured this would be their only opportunity to speak so freely.  “I…I apologized.”

He furrowed his eyebrows.  “For what?”

“For…for being confused…that night at the ruins.  I was just…shocked and…drunk and I couldn’t…think and then the girls pulled me away and I—”

“It’s ok,” he assured her.  “My timing wasn’t the best.”

“Mine neither,” she admitted.  

“Anything else,” he asked hopefully.

She looked into his eyes for a long moment.  She could feel her palms clam up and knew that everything hinged upon his reaction to her next words.  “I said that I wasn’t confused anymore and that…that I love you.”

Even though they had kissed, had admitted that they had feelings for one another, had written to one another every other day since their separation, the joy he felt at hearing her say the actual words was indescribable.  

Still, she wrote that letter months ago.  So much could have changed between then and now.  “And…and now?”

Anne searched his eyes for only a moment before she spoke.  “I’m still in love with you.  More than when I wrote that—” Her words were abruptly cut off as he pressed his lips against hers.  

How many times had she thought about this very moment over the last four months?  How long had she fretted that it wouldn’t be the same, that the memory couldn’t possibly hold up to reality, but now, after having had a very real brush with death, Anne knew that it was her memory that had completely failed her.  This was so much more than she could possibly remember.  The way she felt, the surge of electricity that soared through her veins.  She could feel herself flush under the intensity.

But still—

As sweet as it felt, and even though it spoke volumes, she needed to hear it.  She needed to know.  So, she slowly pulled away from him and opened her eyes.  She waited until he opened his before she looked down at her hands.  “W-What about you?”

He gave her a small smile as he tucked a wisp of her hair behind her ear.  “It’s always been you, Anne…my Anne with an E.”

[hecamity]

petals

this fic was supposed to be a gift for the @bkdksecretsanta​ exchange but unfortunately my giftee ghosted and i had no one to gift this to. despite this, i decided to go ahead and still post it. the work will be, as of right now 10 chapters, but may be subject to change. ao3 link here.

summary: “Ironic, isn’t it? Unrequited love for a shitty little nerd’s gonna be what takes me out.”

Kirishima’s face-hardened. “Stop saying you’re going to die. The doctor said it’s treatable; there’s the surgery—”

“I’m not getting the goddamned surgery, Kirishima.” Katsuki sighed wearily, lifting a hand to run through his blond spikes. “Drop it.”

Kirishima’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched his Katsuki’s shoulders slump forward. He felt a sudden rush of anger at seeing Katsuki resigned to his fate.

“Why the hell not, man? You’re young, you have a whole life ahead—you can’t just die.”

“Because…” Katsuki let out a long breath, almost as if it were painful to breath out. His scarlet orbs moved from the table in front of him to look directly into Kirishima’s eyes. “I don’t want to stop loving him.”

And in that moment, one Kirishima Eijirou decides that the only way to save his best friend was by helping him woo the cute, curly haired man that stole his heart.

Hanahaki Disease only affects a small percentage of the population and is quite rare.

It is a disease that is born from unrequited love, causing its victim to cough up or throw up flower petals.

Not only did its victim suffer the emotional pain of one-sided love, but physical pain as a consequence of the disease.

It always begins with flu like symptoms; a tickle of the throat, fatigue, a slight cough.

Then the tickle becomes unbearable and an insupportable pressure on one’s lungs builds up until the victim heaves a bundle of flower petals.

As time progresses, each episode becomes more and more painful until eventually the victim succumbs to drowning by velvety floral leaves.

Despite the disease being ultimately fatal, there are two possible cures: a surgical procedure that will extract not only the infection, but all lingering feelings towards one’s beloved or by having one’s beloved return one’s romantic feelings.

Unfortunately, fate comes to demonstrate to many victims of Hanahaki Disease that love truly did kill.

April, Year 1

The first time Bakugou Katsuki met Midoriya Izuku was the first day of his first semester during his first year at U.A. University.

The green-haired young man was assigned to be his lab partner in Chemistry class and his first impression of him was not the best.

He’d been bubbly and annoying, but most of all he was clumsy.

The very first time he and Izuku had worked together, Izuku spilled one of the chemicals they’d been working with all over the table and nearly onto Katsuki’s lap.

He’ll be the death of me, this little shit.

Izuku had stood from his chair with a squeak, eyes wide and cheeks red with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry!”

Most of the class had stopped what they were doing to watch the ordeal and the professor was shaking his head, not surprised to see there was already a mess on the first day of lab work. “Freshmen.”

“Oi! Stop standing there like a useless idiot and help me clean this up!” Katsuki bellowed, causing his stunned lab partner to flinch before scrambling to help Katsuki clean up while stuttering frazzled apologies.

After controlling the spill, the duo had spent the rest of the lab period in a terse silence—well terse from Katsuki’s end—only speaking when necessary.

The next time they had class, Izuku had walked up to him with flushed cheeks and pushed a nicely wrapped plastic baggie toward him.

Katsuki raised his eyebrows skeptically, waiting for Izuku to elaborate on why he was giving him a baggie of what looked like baked goods.

“It’s an I’m Sorry For Being A Disappointing Lab Partner and Almost Spilling Unfamiliar Chemicals On Your Lap the First Day of Lab peace offering,” Izuku explained with a shy grin, reaching up to run a hand through his wild curls nervously. “I hope you’re not against chocolate.”

Katsuki opened his mouth before closing it once more, staring blankly at Izuku who shuffled unsurely in front of him.

“Don’t feel pressured to eat them—” Izuku moved to take the bag back but Katsuki had found himself quickly snatching it away.

“Oi, fucking Deku, you can’t just take back a peace offering,” Katsuki drawled, allowing a small smirk play at the corners of his lips. He ripped open the bag haphazardly and took out a cookie.

“Deku?”

Katsuki only tapped a finger against the kanji printed at the top of Izuku’s timetable that his lab partner had left out in front of him in explanation. “Yeah, you’re kind of a useless lab partner, shitty nerd.”

“I never said I was a Chemistry major.”

“You don’t have to be a Chemistry major to not be a fuckin’ idiot.” Katsuki muttered, taking a hearty bite of the delicious looking chocolate cookie that he had pulled out of the bag.

The chocolate chip cookie melted into his mouth, a burst of sweetness causing his mouth to water.

“Holy shit, these are good.”

“I don’t know if I should be offended that you sound so surprised.” Izuku sulked slightly, though Katsuki could see a smile threatening spread across his face.

“Looks like you’re not completely useless,” Katsuki reluctantly said with a small huff, giving him a small glare. “Though you’ll have to work really hard to convince me that you’re not a shitty lab partner.”  

The corners of his lips finally lifted into a wide grin, emerald orbs shining with happiness.

The smile that Izuku gave him in that moment had stirred something unfamiliar in him; there was a slight shortness of breath and the beat of his heart rushed in his ears.

“I think we’re going to be good friends, Bakugou-san.”

He’ll be the death of me, this little shit.

Bakugou Katsuki had no idea just how true those words would be.

It was the second week of school and Katsuki was relieved it was time for his 2 hour lunch break before Chemistry class.

He’d only slipped in his ear buds to watch the latest episode of the All Might anime and had been munching on the messy sandwich he’d made himself with Kirishima’s supplies for half a minute before he saw a bento box gently land in the spot across from him.

Katsuki paused mid-bite and lifted his scarlet eyes to meet bright, emerald orbs smiling back at him.

“Mind if I join you?”

Katsuki felt an odd flutter in his stomach at his lab partner’s sudden appearance, what he’d already eaten churning in his stomach.

Swallowing his bite, Katsuki rolled his eyes and feigned disinterest, giving Izuku his signature sneer. “Do whatever the fuck you want.”

Izuku’s shy smile grew more confident at a lack of rejection. He pulled the chair out and sat down. “How is your second week going?”

“About as well as the second week as a freshman in university can go.”

“Touché,” he responded, and picked up his chopsticks. Izuku watched as Katsuki began wrapping up his unused ear buds and shut his laptop. “Did I interrupt you watching something?”

Katsuki sighed through his nose and gave him an unimpressed look. “Don’t you have other friends to bother?”

Izuku looked taken aback for a moment at Katsuki’s open hostility before giving him a small smile, eyes squinting. He lifted a chopstick, pointing at the blonde. “Just you.”

“If this is your way of making friends,” Katsuki snorted, allowing the corners of his lips to lift in slight amusement. “I can see why you don’t have many friends, nerd. Also we are not friends.”

“But we will be.” Izuku responded with a confident nod, a sure twinkle in his gaze.

Katsuki only huffed at him before returning to the sandwich in front of him.

They spent the rest of lunch in silence; it was not an uncomfortable one and Katsuki was pleasantly surprised.

There weren’t many people he’d felt this relaxed around aside from Kirishima and Kaminari—though he would use the term relaxed with those two loosely as the two shitheads couldn’t not be annoying for longer than five minutes.

Later that night, as Katsuki lay in bed, he thought to himself that maybe this Deku guy wouldn’t be too bad to see around occasionally.

[finally-isaac]

Pathetic Fallacy

Read on ao3

Chapter One

Pathetic Fallacy is a funny thing.

Occasionally, the world will listen to the moods of its inhabitants. When a bunny dies, the skies will often cry. The birth of a butterfly is usually greeted with radiant sunshine.

But sometimes, the worst of times, nature can be cruel. The emotions of the day will juxtapose the world around it, spreading a false sense of feeling to those who are unaware of events taking place elsewhere.

The bright, beautiful sunshine of July 12th just so happened to be one of those cruel days.

The news would spread quickly, all of the castles courts knew, but it only seemed right to leave the young prince alone with the body of his newly dead mother - if only for a few moments.

The death of a Queen… She’d been ill for some time. At first, only small coughing fits would affect her days, but before long she fell victim to spasms and fits. When her legs succumbed to numbness she was advised to keep it hidden, but she had been adamant about her honesty to the people of her kingdom. She was aware of the weakness it showed, but she’d always seen the best in people - including the rulers of the surrounding countries, whom she considered friends. Even when she was officially bedridden, she ruled with a calm and kind hand.

To many, it was merely the death of a Queen. To many more, it was the death of a friend. To only one, though, it was the death of a mother.

Roman couldn’t fathom the brightness of the outside while he felt so dark within. Even with every curtain drawn, and every torch put out, the sunlight prevailed and pushed through every tiny crack it could find, as though to say, “Dear Roman, everything will be alright. Happiness will prevail,” just as his mother had said each time he had cried as a child. But how could it?

Knelt beside his mother's bed, clutching her feather-light sheets, Roman couldn’t help the moaning sobs that fell past his lips in endless waterfalls, drenching the sleeve of his mother's arm beneath him. He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat like this. Not long enough to have been pulled away, not yet, but long enough that his knees ached against the cold stone floor under him. His eyes burned, a never-ending river still running from the blue pools they held. His stomach rolled with nausea and his brain seemed to be pounding against his skull…

How could happiness prevail when the very embodiment of the word lay cold in her bed?

As time passed, Roman began to calm. His shaking slowed, and he became quieter with every passing moment. He wasn’t happy - far from it - but at some point, a person must run out of tears. For a prince, that moment was required to be fast.

He listened attentively to the room around him, choking back the remaining whimpers in his raw throat. He could hear the near-silent mumbling of the staff near the doors, the awkward side-steps of the guard behind him. They were all waiting for their next orders.

Roman took a slow, deep breath through his nose. He could still smell her in this close proximity, but the life behind her flowery scent was gone… As though a forest fire had snuffed out every bloom.

It was time.

The prince stood, blinking away the last of his tears. There was no time to mourn. The time had finally come to take action, and he knew that now the orders must come from him. He would plan the funeral, large and befit of the beautiful life it would celebrate, but soon after there would be a coronation.

With a final look at her beautiful, peaceful, sleeping face… He knew.

It was time for Roman to become King.

***

“Thomas! Get down from there, silly!”

“Never!” the boy yelled from his perch in the large oak tree. His brown hair danced across his forehead, nearly touching his bold brown eyes.

Grinning up at him, his father noted that the boy desperately needed a haircut. “Thomas, we’ll be late! C’mon, please?”

“Fine,” he sang, recklessly jumping down one branch at a time.

Laughing, Patton added, “Don’t rip your trousers! Those are your good pair, son.”

“I know, Papa!”

Patton landed on his feet with a heavy thump, not a scratch in sight. He grinned up at his dad proudly, showing off the gap in the front of his otherwise toothy smile. Though Patton couldn’t afford to give Thomas his well-deserved coin for the missing fang, the boy didn’t seem any less happy than any other day. Patton felt grateful to have such a mature, understanding nine-year-old as a son.

“Ready to go?” Patton asked.

With a hum of confirmation from the boy, the two set off. The walk to the castle wasn’t long, but they were planning to stop at the blacksmiths' shop along the way. Afterall, Mr.Thatch had promised to buy Thomas a balloon on the way to the parade!

Thomas stopped many times along the dirt path, picking white carnations and hydrangeas for the flower crown he was creating along their way.

“Papa?” he asked once he was done, “Would you like a crown as well?”

Patton smiled brightly as his beautiful little boy. How cute Thomas looked, flowers sat askew across his tiny head. How could he turn down this wonderful child? “Of course, my starlight.”

Again, Thomas flashed his papa a grin. “Mr.Drake has been teaching me much about flowers, Papa!”

“Has he?” Patton smiled, listening attentively to his son. “Do tell.”

Thomas ran off to the side of the path once more. When he returned his hands were filled with flowers. His smile never faltered as he explained, “Chrysanthemums indicate a long life, and Hyacinth’s symbolize playfulness. These orchids represent exotic beauty, and roses are symbols of love!” With each flower he listed, he added them to the crown. The array of plants looked odd altogether, Patton had to admit, but the thought behind them made his smile glow as he leaned down to let Thomas place it on his head.

“Now we both have crowns, Papa!” Thomas exclaimed.

Nodding, Patton added, “Yes, and soon, so will Prince Roman.”

“King Roman!” Thomas shouted, fist thrown in the air with a gleeful laugh.

“Yes,” Patton chuckled, patting Thomas’ hair gently. “King Roman indeed. It is quite the shame the Queen has passed… But Prince Roman will be a fine leader, don’t you agree?”

Thomas nodded, jumping ahead of his father to walk backwards as they spoke. “Of course! He’s beat dragons and armies, nothing can stop him!” A mock battle took place as Thomas mimed a sword and shield, swiping at the air and jumping away from invisible danger. “He’s very nice too! Remember, Papa? Mr.Thatch says that Prince Roman is very nice!”

Patton nodded once more. “I remember,” he promised, chuckling at Thomas’ antic. “Careful, starlight. Watch where you’re headed.”

“Yes, Papa!”

***

Logan Thatch didn’t consider himself an aggressive man. In fact, he thought himself quite fair and logical. Every day he would sit through listening to his customer's demands, however annoying and ridiculous they may be, and he would work hard each night to try to finish the projects requested of him. If a mistake was made of his own fault, he offered discounts and partial refunds, and if his customers simply didn’t like their product he was always willing to redo their piece for an equal price.

He was always smart with his money, saving for needed equipment and food, as well as a little extra should he need it. His math skills weren’t the best, but the knowledge he had was enough to get by. Once a month he would splurge just enough to take a math or literacy class in order to further educate himself. His reading was greatly improving every day!

But still, Logan was smart enough to know that money was tight. Afterall, he wasn’t the most popular blacksmith in the small town - by far, he wasn’t the best. His customers came to him for cheaper prices, not higher quality.

So when Lyle Drake arrived at Logan’s shop, on the morning of the coronation no less, to inform the blacksmith of the rising price of rent, Logan was infuriated.

“Fifty coins?! Mr.Drake, you must know that fifty coins is an absurd amount?” In his outrage, he found himself getting nearer and nearer the other man, but Mr.Drake seemed entirely unaffected by Logan’s outburst. “Twenty was already more than I could afford, and now you ask fifty of me? Every month? That’s just illogical, and frankly, it isn’t going to happen. It can’t. I’ll barely be able to afford bread!”

Lyle Drake chuckled, finally taking a step back from Logan, who had gotten close enough to see the golden shine of Lyle’s eyes. Both men were tall, but Lyle’s six feet won out by just a few inches. He was slim, with think black hair beneath his silk top hat. Half of his face was covered in green skin and scales, the result of venomous snake bite as a child, and his clothes reflected his abundance of wealth. After All, the Queens tax collector and royal advisor was paid rather well.

“Mr.Thatch, or rather, Logan, the kingdom has reached dire times my friend! The Queen's funeral, and now Prince Roman’s coronation… Very expensive events indeed. Everyone is required to chip in.” He paused, grinning in response to the snarl he received from the blacksmith, before continuing, “Besides, his royal highness has been advised to collect money to build a proper shrine for his beloved mother, God bless her soul.”

“I wonder who advised that, Mr.Drake?”

“I haven’t the faintest what you’re implying, Logan.” The two faced man turned on his heel and began to walk away. Only seconds later he called over his shoulder, “I’ll be by in a week to collect your rent, Mr.Thatch.”

Logan wanted to scream. He wanted to punch that slimy man and wipe that stupid grin off his annoying face. He wanted to-

“Mr.Thatch!”

His murderous thoughts were interrupted by a pair of arms flung around his waist, squeezing in a friendly manner. It took him a moment to realize it was Thomas, a young boy who occasionally helped him around the shop in exchange for a loaf of bread.

“Mr.Thatch,” the young boy continued, releasing the man from his hug before looking up with a grin. “Look what Papa and I made for you!”

Logan smiled, gazing down at Thomas and the boys' outstretched hands. A flower crown made of aster, gladiolus, and lilac… “How beautiful. Thank you, Thomas.” Logan gently picked up the braided plants and placed them on his head. Normally such ridiculousness would annoy him, however, he found he could never say no to Thomas. The young boy was such a bundle of joy and delightful energy. And Thomas’ father… Well, Logan’s smile brightened more as he watched Patton descend down the path towards the blacksmiths' shop.

The father's face seemed to be flushed pink as he greeted Logan, and the blacksmiths face mimicked the shy greeting without fail as Thomas ran around them with loud exclamations of his excitement.

After all, it was coronation day.

[lovehotelreservation]

I’ll Say “I Love You” Until We Get Along - Ani Ohev Otach [3/15]

Summary: Begotten by the gods, Ardyn has sought to return the favor, their precious world to burn. Until he runs into you, a cherished reminder of his past that he thought to have closed his heart to centuries ago. Now, however, he finds your heart sealed shut to him, and he is determined to pry it open one way or another. Prequel and sequel to “The Most Beautiful Boogie Man”

Rating: R

Pairing: Reader/Ardyn

[Previous Chapter]

[Next Chapter]

Hello everyone! Back at it again for another week of filthy romantic pining from Chancellor Nasty~! And I say filthy because, well, you shall see~ 

That said, Phoenix released the official MV for “Ti Amo” a couple days ago and I absolutely adore it!

Now without further ado, here’s the next chapter!

*Warning: this fic will contain themes of unhealthy relationship behavior, obsessive behavior, stalking, and somnophilia

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

Ani ohev otach

Whether they bothered to rehearse and familiarize themselves with the script or not, the actors were in place and the show was to go on.

As the producer, director, and leading man of this epic tale, he refused to allow any absences in the cast. With all the preparation he put into creating this fantastical drama, there was nothing that would get in the way of his production. After all, he had already bought a front row ticket for his play.

He had every reason to sit back and enjoy the spectacle that he put into place, all the while he was surrounded by bouquets of flowers, jewelry, sweets, and other gifts that were meant to adorn you, the newest but--in his eyes--most important actor in this show. Your inclusion was sudden, but how could he not bring you on? Were it not for the tragic fate that befell you, he would not have taken such effort to produce this show of a lifetime at all.

Though, as director, he had to make sure you were fit for the role, else he would have had you sitting in front row beside him for the best view. Research was done, at first carried out as instructed by Imperial staff, only to become a passion project to be done solely by him.

The desk and adjoining walls in his bedroom were flooded with every bit of data he could retrieve on you--a transcript of your speech upon your induction to Crownsguard, footage from successful Crownsguard missions that you took part in, pictures from the past to the present, no matter if it was you on your first day of kindergarten to high school trip outings with Noctis and Prompto. This didn't even begin to touch upon the collection of current updates he was actively maintaining, needing to know every detail of your whereabouts in preparation of your reunion.

It certainly was for the better that he be left to his obsession over you on his own. He was certain that Niflheim officials would be aghast at walking in on him stroking his cock while he admired videos of you in battle whilst sporting that tight-fitting Crownsguard uniform. As much of a pacifist as you were in the past, what had been inspirational both to him and all of your beloved Lucians was the steadfastness of your beliefs, a fierce protection to keep peace without resorting to bloodshed that many strived to follow after.

Even now, you maintained that gorgeous fire of yours—but through the steel of your blade as you defended the honor of the Lucian royals.

From crayon scribbles submitted to your third grade teacher, your parents had bestowed the same name upon you, claiming that on the day of your birth, a friend had gifted them a bouquet of your favorite flowers, of which--during his reign--Ardyn had instructed to have their name changed to yours. However, now as you carried on as guardian to Prince Noctis, you went by the title of Venus Fly--fitting for a docile, seemingly unassuming flower that would strike upon its prey. After all, he thought you to have been playing secretary for the Crownsguard instead of being among its finest members.

But as he lounged within the comforts of his bedroom--a vast space of elegant color that was somehow simultaneously splendid yet hollow--, naked, his silken charcoal gray sheets stained with sticky splashes of creamy pearl, all while he could feel his cock harden once again while he stared at the photos he had spread over his bed, he admonished himself for doubting your fighting abilities. From the pictures taken from the remnants of Magitek troops deployed to the Keytriarch Trench, there was something so thrilling, so arousing about watching you dash towards a soldier, blade at the ready, your gaze fierce before you struck, all while viewing this from the perspective of Verstael Beithia's toys.

How times have changed.

He was always susceptible to succumbing to your seduction, whether intentional or not. It was just that now, he was becoming erect at more than instances of you not wearing any undergarments beneath your gown during important galas at the Citadel. Rather, it was to the thought of you unleashing your warrior's wrath upon him.

Though, even within that fantasy, he would not to let you get too carried away, as any actions of defiance against him--especially from you, his lover--would receive proper punishment.

With a blissful sigh, he picked up another stack of photos, taken from a damaged security camera of the Leide-Duscae checkpoint that Noctis and his friends had broken through, with the help of you and Cor, the latter of whom took off to gather the remaining Crownsguard to assist in the prince's mission while leaving you to guide the group along. The picture he was most taken by of the stack was of you stepping towards the Regalia, zoomed in on purpose to focus solely on you.

Together with Noctis and his three personal Crownsguard, you would make your way to Lestallum in their efforts to reclaim Lucis.

And in turn, reunite with your beloved husband.

"Oh, you know I do enjoy a nice little game of cat and mouse with you, darling," Ardyn purred while tracing over your picture with reverence. A glint flashed in his eyes as he deliberately ran his index finger up and down the length of your body. "But don't think you'll be getting away from me so easily this time. You're right in the palm of my hand, and I shall not ever let you go..."

His eyes shut closed while he reclined further into his bed, pressing your picture against his chest as he murmured with pleasure, looking forward to when he may be able to embrace you just like this, the thought of which made his cock twitch and stiffen even more.

Upon the time when he would finally reunite with you in Lestallum, Ardyn hoped you were in the mood for autographs.

[thelinkuptmbls]

The Marathon Continues

Dearly beloved,

We are gathered here to get through this thing called life and if you’ve been paying attention in the last couple of weeks, you know this life can be downright tragic.

On March 31st, 2019, the world was shocked when rapper/entrepreneur Nipsey Hussle was shot and killed. I remember scrolling through Twitter and seeing a few random tweets mentioning his being shot but the majority of the TL (timeline) hadn’t reported the same so I chose to ignore it, hoping it was just a case of fake news.

Then the news broke: Nipsey was shot and in critical condition.

My TL was filled with prayers for his recovery, for his family, etc. All kinds of people were sending their regards and I remember thinking, “he’s gonna pull through, he’s gonna make it”.

Then the news broke, again: Nipsey was pronounced dead, succumbing to his wounds.

What? How? Is he really dead?

These questions swarmed my mind. Immediately, I thought of Lauren London, his girlfriend. How is she dealing with this? What are her and the children gonna do? It was hard to come to terms with this finality. Nip was gone. Even now, having watched his homegoing at the Staples Center in his hometown of Los Angeles, I still have trouble grappling with this truth.

However, in the days leading up to his final victory lap and the homegoing ceremony, I was consoled by a striking reality. Nipsey was no perfect being, this goes without saying, but Nipsey was able to accomplish in his short 33 years of life what so few are able to do in an entire lifetime.

There have been high profile celebrities that have passed and their deaths were deeply felt. Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, Prince, and Aretha Franklin are a few examples. But in each case, these icons had accomplished amazing feats and had given us brilliance in the form of musical excellence for years. We’d witnessed their dominance, their star power, their talent. Even with all of the controversy that surrounded them, they were still held in high regard. And if you’re a 90’s baby like me, then you know that these names were staples in music. I believed there’d always be an MJ, a Whitney, a Prince, or an Aretha. Then they died and it was devastating. But we all felt a sense of peace knowing they had lived full lives doing what they loved most.

Then there’s Nipsey, taken in the prime of his life. His youngest is only a few years old, he’d just put out his first album, and he seemed to be more accepting of his celebrity and fame. Yet, when you hear the words of those who knew him, you realize that this was a man whose name belongs next to the likes of Michael, Whitney, Prince, and Aretha.

He was a humanitarian in the truest sense of the word. A man who pursued servicing others. It was mentioned during the tributes that Nip always believed in using your blessing to bless others. Once he saw a way to become successful, he used it to help others. He chose to stay in his neighbourhood. He wanted to uplift his peers in the Slauson and Crenshaw area. Though crime-ridden and gang influenced, Nipsey believed it would be worse to pack up and leave than to stay and build.

So he built.

He bought property, created programs, employed members of the community, and even sought to bridge a connection with the LAPD and the civilians of the neighbourhood.

Michael sang, “heal the world, make it a better place”, Nip was doing that. Whitney sang, “I believe the children are our future. Teach them well and let them lead the way”, Nip believed that and invested in them. He put his money where his mouth was and did the work. Even on the fateful day of his death, Nipsey had snuck out to gather some clothes for a friend who’d just been released from prison. He wanted to help him with his fresh start.

Though his death was senseless, I truly believe it was the spark to help us realign ourselves to a higher purpose. There is much to gain in this world, in fact, the entire world is up for grabs. But the holy script says, “what does it profit a man to gain the world and in the end lose his soul?” There is much to gain but so little that is meaningful. Nipsey was not major as far as pop culture goes but his impact was greater than most.

His legacy is not how rich he’d become, or how amazing his music was, but how well he served people. He chose to honour the humanity in each person, dignifying them by affirming their presence. No one was too low. This is how he will be remembered. This is his legacy.

So we say, ‘Long Live Nip’, a true king. May his memory never be forgotten. The marathon continues.

[fashiontrendin-blog]

21 Awesome Parenting Moments From Pink

http://fashion-trendin.com/21-awesome-parenting-moments-from-pink/

21 Awesome Parenting Moments From Pink

Pink might be one of the most beloved celebrity moms on social media. 

The singer and her husband, Carey Hart, have a 7-year-old daughter named Willow and 1-year-old son named Jameson. Over the years, she has offered fans many glimpses into her life as a parent, from breastfeeding snaps to mom fail stories to moments of pure hilarity. 

Her candor when it comes to the realities of motherhood on social media and in interviews has resonated with moms and dads around the world. In honor of her birthday on Saturday, here are 21 awesome parenting moments from Pink.

1. When she posted a funny pumping selfie:

“And now this #pumpupthejams #mombreak,” Pink captioned a hilarious mirror selfie that showed her pumping breast milk while in the U.K. for a few performances in August 2017. 

2. When she told a hilarious story about her toddler dropping the F-bomb:

While appearing on “The Ellen Degeneres Show” in October 2014, Pink shared a story about a time when then 3-year-old Willow ran up to her before a performance and declared, “I’m fucking here!”

“I was like, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t. My ears don’t understand what you’re saying,’” the singer recalled, adding that it was still quite funny. “It’s so cute! I mean, I’m not encouraging it, but, come on, it’s like a little 3-year-old body and then …”

3. When she trolled her daughter:

In July 2016, the singer played a trick on her daughter involving a green face mask. “I told Willow I was turning into Shrek. She actually believed me and got super worried and told me to stop it before it was too late. Parenting is fun,” she wrote on Instagram. 

4. When she and her family rocked matching suits at the VMAs:

Jeff Kravitz/FilmMagic via Getty Images

Pink, Carey Hart and Willow at the MTV Video Music Awards on Aug. 27, 2017.

Pink matched her husband and daughter in a suit and tie at the 2017 MTV Video Music Awards, and the family totally stole the show. Later that night, while accepting the Video Vanguard Award, she gave an empowering speech about teaching her daughter to love herself.

5. When she recounted an emotional mom encounter at the grocery store:

A really sweet Mama came up 2me tonight at the grocery store and told me some nice words about how she gets strength from my parenting cause I’m not afraid to fuck up in public. We cried together. It’s so hard. Y’all. I wish us mamas could give ourselves and each other a break.

— P!nk (@Pink) December 28, 2017

In December 2017, Pink tweeted about a heartwarming parenting experience she had while shopping at the grocery store. Her reflection on the pressures of motherhood prompted a chorus of amens from her fellow moms.  

6. When she opened up about her miscarriage: 

Pink announced that was pregnant with Willow in 2010 on an episode of “The Ellen DeGeneres Show.” The singer said she delayed making the announcement because of her experience with pregnancy loss. “I didn’t want to talk about it because I was just really nervous, and I have had a miscarriage before.”

Her 2012 song “Beam Me Up,” which is reportedly about a close friend’s experience with infant loss, has resonated with women who have experienced miscarriage and other forms of loss as well.  

7. When she shared her Elf on the Shelf fail:

Like many parents before her, Pink has succumbed to the pressure of Elf on the Shelf. In December 2017, the singer posted a photo of a note her daughter wrote to Santa Claus after her mom forgot to move the family Elf, Chippy. 

“Santa, I am worried about Chippy, he has been in the same spot for 3 days. I don’t know why,” the note read, according to the mom’s kid-to-grown-up English translation. “Translation: MOM FAIL,” Pink captioned the photo, along with the hashtag #elfonthesamedamnshelf.

8. When she captured a hilarious “family meeting” photo:

In August, Hart shared a funny photo that resonated with many parents. The picture, which Pink captured, shows the dad just trying to use the bathroom in peace as his kids interrupt for a family meeting. 

“Dude, can I just take a shit?? Family meetings always have to happen when I’m pissing off IG,” he wrote in the Instagram caption. 

9. When she shut down breastfeeding shamers:

While appearing on “The Ellen DeGeneres Show” in September 2016, Pink calmly explained why it’s weird to shame women for nursing in public. 

“[People have] strong opinions about things that don’t affect their life at all. I’m feeding my kid. Would you rather him scream? Because he’s very capable of that, too,” she said. 

10. When she shared some too-real parenting texts:

In September 2017, Pink posted a screenshot of some hilarious texts that sum up how parents really feel about babies. 

“Why do babies cry so much. I feel like he’s fucking with me at this point,” Pink wrote … to which her friend bluntly replied, “Babies are cunts.” The singer wrote back, “Hahaha. My next single.” 

11. When she slayed the family Halloween costume game:

On Halloween in 2017, Pink posted some throwback photos showing her family costumes over the years. The best was her “all time favorite” costume when she, Willow and Hart went as “E.T.” characters. 

12. When she got real about the most humbling part of parenting

When she appeared on the cover of People’s Beautiful issue in 2018, Pink opened up about raising kids. 

“The thing about parenting is you never know if anything you’re doing is working,” she said. “That’s been the most humbling thing for me. In my head, I sound amazing and then I turn around and [Willow’s] eyes are completely glazed over. I have no idea. We’ll see.”

13. When she gave her daughter a cake with Matt Damon:

While appearing on “The Kyle and Jackie O Show” in April 2016, Pink revealed that her daughter loves the movie “The Martian.”

“She asked me if Matt Damon can come to [her birthday party]. I think she has a crush,” said the singer. Although Damon didn’t make it to her birthday party in June, he was there in spirit, as Pink fittingly gave her daughter a “Martian”-themed birthday cake. 

14. When she normalized breastfeeding:

Over the years, Pink has shared many breastfeeding photos, including a sweet throwback picture she posted during World Breastfeeding Week in 2016. 

“I proudly post this photo of a very HEALTHY, NATURAL act between mother and child. Taken in Helsinki by a very supportive and proud Papa,” she wrote in the caption. 

15. When she got real about her post-baby body:

Six weeks after giving birth to Jameson, Pink posted a selfie with her trainer at the gym. “Week 6 post baby and I haven’t lost ANY WEIGHT YET!!!!” she wrote in the caption. “Yaye me!!!!! I’m normal!”

16. When she accidentally got her kid’s age wrong:

I made a thing with @AppleMusic! It’s a documentary about #BeautifulTrauma – Check out this trailer pic.twitter.com/NfQeRwG7Sa

— P!nk (@Pink) October 5, 2017

In her 2017 documentary, “Beautiful Trauma,” Pink had a slip of the tongue when she accidentally referred to her infant son as an 8-year-old. The funniest part was the exhausted mom’s reaction to her blunder: “Ah, shit!”

17. When she shamed mom shamers:

Uh oh. Now I’m a mommy shamer shamer.

— P!nk (@Pink) December 7, 2016

After posting a photo of herself sitting in front of the microwave after heating her coffee in December 2016, Pink received criticism for her choice of beverage and proximity to the microwave while pregnant. 

Amused by the criticism, the singer tweeted a lighthearted Scary Mommy article about the shaming. “This was a really good laugh,” she wrote. “Enjoy over a cup of coffee.” She followed up with another tweet: “Uh oh. Now I’m a mommy shamer shamer.”

18. When she marched for equality with her family:

The singer participated in the Women’s March in Santa Barbara, California, on Jan. 21, 2017 ― along with her husband, daughter and baby son. 

19. When she and Willow rocked the CMA Awards red carpet:

Harrison McClary / Reuters

Pink brought Willow to the 51st Country Music Association Awards, where the mother-daughter duo wore ruffled gowns on the red carpet. 

20. When she posted the perfect pumping selfie for wine-loving moms:

In October 2017, Pink shared a pumping selfie featuring a hard-earned bottle of wine. “When you’re almost done pumping and you know what’s next,” she wrote in the caption on Instagram.

21. When she summed up parenthood in one Instagram post:

In March 2017, Pink posted a photo of herself sleeping with baby Jameson on her chest. She captioned the Instagram picture, “Oh my god I’m so tired my soul has a headache but I’m so okay with it so whatever I’m just gonna take this little catnap real quick wake me up in ten seconds.”

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