#note read ‘a couple days’ as a year and add me relating to it tomorrow when im in a bad mood again and this post is now correct 👍 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

apixrl · 4 years ago

Text

SINCERELY, YOURS.

hanta sero x fem!reader

WARNING(S): none

word count: 3.0k

song: sincerely, yours // nohidea

note(s): i just think that he'd be the perfect hubby tbh (EDIT: I'M SO DUMB I POSTED W/O TAGS PFAHAHHA)

Hanta finally managed to force open the door to the log cabin that had long been awaiting your arrival, the wooden structure welcoming the approaching warmth and laughter of the newly wedded couple. The ravenette smirked joyously and let out a triumphant 'hoorah', your laughter only adding to the display of ego on his face.

"And you said I'd drop you," Hanta mocked your earlier words, looking down at you with that very same smirk. If not for your arms wrapped around his neck and entire weight held in his arms, you most likely would have pushed his face away by the cheek. To avoid that shit-eating, joking smirk that rarely left his dumb and lovable face. The face you fell for so undoubtedly swift and heavy.

"I didn't say you would I said you may drop me," Was your response. "It's not every day we walk through so much snow!"

"Hush now, that was nothing to me," Hanta lifted the arm that supported your back, planting his lips on your forehead in a sweet welcoming kiss. Your lips curled in approval, accepting the gesture as Hanta used his foot to close the door behind you both, driving away the cold breeze from outside as warmth replaced it. "Now would you look at this place!"

Heeding Hanta's words, your eyes averted from his addicting gaze to the bonnie log cabin interior set out before you two. From left to right the cabin maintained an earthy theme, consistent in wooden textures excluding that of the supple beige sofas in the centre of the room. They were accompanied with ripening red cushions, as well as a few other pieces of furniture containing the same colour to maintain an advertising aesthetic no doubt. Lengthy beams stretched from one end of the walls to the other, set out in rows. The deepest wall (opposite to the entrance) was made mostly out of glass and onlooking a gorgeous snowy forest scene, small golden lights lit up outside to only add to the aura already presented. Built-up by red bricks and extending up toward the ceiling was a great open fireplace, already sparked alight and sensing a contrasting warmth to the bitter cold outdoors. In the corner of the room were a set of stairs most likely directing themselves off to the bedroom, though you and Hanta were so taken by the bottom floor's interior neither of you even processed there were more rooms to see.

"Wow... this place is gorgeous!" You said through a whisper, face lighting up at the sight. Never had you thought a place could be so beautifully arranged and so beautiful in general, and the two of you had this place to yourselves for an entire two weeks... it made you feel like the luckiest person alive! That you were really, as you'd just tied the knot the love of your life and were starting an entirely new journey with him. From the very moment you'd both uttered 'I do' in front of all your friends and family - the paths you lead became one that you would waltz down together.

"So you like it then?" Hanta asked, ebony eyes trailing away from the open fire and down to your own E/C irises. His smirk slowly transitioned to an endearing grin upon seeing your face of wonder, heart skipping a beat as your gaze met his and your expression mirrored.

"Of course! It's just how I imagined it - even more stunning than the pictures online," Your hand grazed Hanta's gloved one, though the barricade of wool and cotton did nothing to prevent the love and desire sent through the tips of your fingers. The ravenette admired your beauty in that lingering stare shared between you, exhaling a content sigh. You never failed to astound him with your beauty, the way your eyes glowed whenever you looked at him. How your hair fell perfectly into place no matter the circumstance (even on your worst of hair days you somehow managed to make it work). Not to mention your smile and laugh - those specific factors alone making Hanta fall for you over and over and exceeding limits of love and admiration he didn't even think he possessed.

Just before Hanta was to fall into daydream you shook him out his thoughts, the shifting of weight in his arms struck him to shake out of it, realising that you were attempting to shuffle out his arms in order to stand. So he let you down, grip loosening and reluctantly allowing you to step away.

"I'm glad," He quickly uttered, his hand lifting to his head to remove the woolly hat resting there. Then he proceeded to unbutton his winter coat as did you, the pair of you making light work of it due to the excitement of exploring your temporary home.

"So our suitcases are already here?" You asked Hanta, straightening out your knitted turtleneck jumper which was a soft pink shade. Usually something you wouldn't wear, but it was well-suited for the weather and didn't irritate your skin. So you took advantage of the purchase. From your left Hanta hummed softly, turning towards you once he was done hanging his coat on the rack. He too had a turtleneck on, but his donned a collect of abstract patterns and stuck to more neutral colours than yours.

"Yep, they should be upstairs," Hanta replied, running a hand through his hair as he looked over at you. He shifted over to your side, hugging you from behind with a mischievous chuckle. "But we can unpack tomorrow,"

"I like the idea of that, I just wanna snuggle," You responded with a giggle, leaning back into your husband's hold. After a few seconds Hanta stepped forwards, forcing your feet to follow suit. The ravenette guided you both to the nearest sofa, where he messily fell back against the ruby red cushions and you alongside him.

"That's because you procrastinate more than you've ever been willing to admit," Hanta turned you over so you sat atop his middle, hands settled on your hips like they were structured to hold them. There was a smirk on his face as you rolled your eyes at his last comment.

"I procrastinate because you distract me," You corrected, poking his chest with a prominent finger.

"Ah well, what can I say? I'm just that pretty aren't I?" He replied, laughing joyously. You couldn't help but echo with your own form of a chuckle, shaking your head as the smile on your face sent Hanta all kinds of elated emotions through his veins.

"You're not wrong there, Tiger," You grinned ear to ear, staring lovingly in his direction. Words weren't enough to express how much you loved him, your mind struggling to form sentences most of the time with just how much he took your breath away. In truth, you would have allowed yourself to remain gazing into Hanta's eyes the entire night. But you were due to catch sight of an envelope on the coffee table next to you both, drawing your attention away from him as fast as it came. The item too out of the ordinary to ignore. Peculiarly you leaned over to grab it, tilting your head at the item.

"What's that?"

"I don't know," Was your answer. Your fingers proceeded to slit open the top, discovering a smaller, folded piece of paper inside. Curiously you opened it up, voice filling the room as you discovered golden ink was printed on one side and intended to read it out.

" Dear Mr and Mrs Sero,

We are beyond pleased that you chose to stay with us for your honeymoon. Have a wonderful and splendid time at the start of your journey together and we wish you nothing but happiness and joy during your stay.

Kindest regards,

[resort/name] "

"Mr and Mrs Sero," Hanta repeated with a thoughtful stare to the wooden beams above. "I'm still not used to hearing that and we've already been married a week," A smile formed on his lips, releasing a chuckle from the depths of his chest. Almost like he couldn't believe the words he had just uttered. Tilting your head, you pondered on what he meant.

"How do you mean?" You didn't receive an answer straight away, the man you called your husband gently sighed, almost with the case of the lovesick. Somewhere during the exhale Hanta's eyes fell from the beamed ceiling and onto you, gratitude threaded in his expression as he stared at you.

"I just don't know how I got so lucky to marry someone like you," His hand extended to cup your cheek, cradling the slightly chilled part of your face (thanks to the cold air and wind from outside) as his thumb stroked the surface of your skin. Your eyes widened, all too used to the gesture but rarely ever prepared for it whenever Hanta committed to it. You smiled, nuzzling into his warm hold as your eyes closed.

"Me too," You hummed, sighing out yourself as your heart fluttered higher and higher with each passing second. A short silence ensued, ending as you abruptly let out a little laugh. It caught Hanta's attention, his head cosying into the cushion behind him as his brows raised.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about the night you proposed. That's all," Another laugh escaped, humour striking you as you recalled how it had played out. From the manner your lover rolled his eyes, he clearly still hadn't emotionally recovered from it.

"That stupid fire pit," He groaned, eyes closing in annoyance. "I can't believe I let it ruin the moment,"

"I don't think that was the fire's intention, Hants,"

Despite being blatantly confident and bold, when it came to more... intimacy-related things, Hanta Sero's expertise dwindled dangerously. It had taken him months of knowing you to actually ask you out on a date, and when you finally got together? Well, it took him four years before he began to think about popping the question - three months more to actually pop it. Whilst you did say yes once he got down on one knee on the balcony of your holiday home for your fourth anniversary together, the events that proceeded after were what truly traumatised the poor ravenette.

Your holiday was spent somewhere in the Caribbean at a beachside residence that locals rented out for tourists. You and Hanta had always been big on travelling, hence your honeymoon location being such an unconventional place. Or as far as you knew, you didn't have an exact number on how many honeymoons were spent in remote mountain ranges surrounded by blustering winds and snow. It was a nice change of pace to the intense heats nearer the Equator.

During that vacation in particular though, that was the year Hanta finally decided to propose. After a long day on the beach, swimming in the ocean and feeling the sand between your toes as evening approached, you watched the sunset on the balcony of the second floor, neighbouring your bedroom. To set the mood the firepit in the centre had been lit, creating a stunning orange glow in Hanta's eyes as he held you close to his chest.

You noticed he was quite fidgety in his seat, wondering what was wrong with your lover as he gripped his knee tight. Like he was uncomfortable or nervous. Like he needed to get something off of his chest. It was only when you pointed out your concern and his odd behaviour that Hanta managed to shift his stance. Moving from his stiff position to wobbling on one knee, then came the heartfelt speech that gave you a sense of where he was going. A subtle reach into his pocket and before you knew it, you were shouting yes into the night sky and your eyes foggy with tears of complete and utter joy.

Hanta placed the ring on your finger, the realisation hitting him at that moment that you and he were engaged. His excitement got the better of him, the male sweeping you in his arms and swinging you around as he babbled sweet nothings into your ear. The speed wavered his balance, his leg knocking into the table holding a bottle of wine he had ordered specifically for the occasion. Much to both of your bad luck, it all collapsed against the firepit and tipped it over - and one can only imagine what happened next. A rather chaotic ruckus erupted between you as Hanta grabbed you by the waist and flung you both out of the building via the balcony to ensure your safety. Then he 'thwipped' straight back up to the fire and frantically searched for the fire extinguisher to put it out, all whilst you sat on the sandy ground outside, frozen to how drastically the mood had changed.

Luckily the fire didn't spread too far. If not for Hanta's efficiency in dealing with it upfront, it could have spread to the bedroom and the rest of the house. It did not, however, the most damage being the balcony sofas that were scorched no thanks to their wooden frame and white cushioning.

Despite having just been engaged, there wasn't much you and Hanta could do to celebrate. So the night ended with you and he falling to slumber in the early hours of the morning, too exhausted after dealing with the owners' wrath after the slight mishap of nearly setting their building ablaze.

"At least you didn't burn the entire house down," You tried after a few seconds of quiet, earning a scoff on Hanta's part as he ran a hand through his hair.

"It felt like it when I called the owner's to tell them what happened," Hanta answered, softly frowning at the shrieking yells he heard during that call ringing their way through his mind again. Long after he'd shut them out based on the humiliation of being on the receiving end. You giggled, recalling how you were able to hear them despite the phone not being on speaker.

"I'm surprised they let us stay for the rest of the week,"

"That's because I paid the money for the damage caused within six hours of them demanding it," Hanta reminded you, dragging his hands down his face as he groaned out. Probably expelling his inner cringe at his foolishness that night. "Times like that make me relieved I'm a top ten pro, helps out with emergencies a great fucking deal,"

"Are you sure that didn't play any part in their generosity? That you're a top ten pro?"

"No way," He said and sat up to meet your height, hands looping to cradle the small of your back. He held back continuing to briefly peck you on the lips. "The bill they gave me was the complete opposite of generous,"

"How much was it again?" You asked, memory not serving you the answer. The ebony-haired male leaned forwards to kiss you again before he moved his lips up to your ear. His voice became a whisper, telling the sum in Yen which made your eyes widen in astonishment.

"Wow," Was your instinctive reply, Hanta scoffing a laugh in agreement based on your tone of surprise. It was there he nuzzled into your neck, inhaling through his nose to catch a whiff of your scent. The aroma acting as a sedative to wipe the memory from his mind permanently. All he wished to remember of that night was the way your face lit up as he asked you to take his hand in marriage. How your tears formed and how your lips uttered the words he had oh, so desperately wanted to hear after months and months of worry of being rejected.

And look at you both now; husband and wife and on your honeymoon. Holding each other as close as close can be with no doubt or hesitancy in your minds at all. Why he had worried so much was something he would never be able to figure out. As looking back, all of it felt like the easiest thing he had ever had to do.

Due to that, Hanta smiled into your neck. The change could have been missed, but you were far too attentive to not notice. The feeling of his cheeks shaping his smile made you smile as well, your arms wrapping around Hanta's neck in a desperate need to pull him closer. Your fingers ghosted the back of his neck, tickling the hairs that attached with care like no other. You rested your chin on his head, eyes closed gently in comfort. In response, Hanta hummed lowly, hands starting to rub up and down your back like he was giving you a massage.

Silence passed, the two of you simply enjoying the other's company and the intimate moment you had welded together. The proximity created a warmth that could fight any cold, the fireplace behind you both unneeded to fight the swirling snow outside. Your eyes peaked open as the faint crackle of the fire nearby caught your attention. You watched the flames dance for a second or so before you plucked up the confidence to speak.

"Just... let's not set fire to this place. Alright?" You mused, holding your breath as you waited for Hanta's response. Luckily he didn't dismiss it, actually finding the comment quite funny. He voiced a blurt of a laugh, head shaking as much as he could make it whilst it buried into the depths of your neck. Hanta's mouth opened to make his reply, quickly hushing up again to return to the peaceful silence of before, not at all ready to let it go just yet.

"Agreed,"

#bnha x reader #x reader #fluff #mha x reader #anime x reader #boku no hero x reader #my hero academia x reader #hanta sero x you #hanta sero x y/n #hanta sero x reader #hanta sero #sero x reader #bnha sero hanta #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #sero fluff #hanta sero fluff

91 notes · View notes

polarbearaone · 4 years ago

Text

Thousand Light Years

Aone trusts his mother more than anyone, but does he love her more than you.

Aone’s father was rarely present in his life. His mother taught him everything, how to ride a bike, how to be gentle despite his size. No matter how gentle Aone was, he never seemed to get a romantic interest. Sure, he liked girls but he never found one that liked him back. Due to this, Aone built a heavy bond with this mother, she was always there for him, she never judged him. Deemed a momma’s boy, Aone would always value his mothers opinions. The first time Aone talked about her, his mother got worried. She didn’t want her baby boy to get hurt again. “ Takanobu, how is volleyball going?”, she desperately tried to change the subject. The second time she was brought up, Aone asked his mother what type of flowers girls liked. “Now he wants to get her flowers?” his mother thought. “ I have to go to the store, baby, make sure you eat ok?”, after a chaste kiss on the cheek, she bolted out the door. Aone wasn’t dumb but he surely was confused as to why his mother has been doging his questions lately. “ Maybe she wants to meet her. '' Futakuchi comforted his tall friend. Aone gave a chaste grunt and continued to eat. “Maybe she’s jealous Aone-san!” Koganegawa said with too much emotion. Everyone's eyes darted to him as he continued voicing his opinion. “ My mom is pretty jealous too! I remember in junior high, this girl liked me so I took her to come meet my mom. She was so dry and out of it. Figure, your mom might be like that too.” Kogane went back to munching on his lunch, as if he just didn’t provide Aone with the explanation to his problem. “Look, I know you really want your mom to know her but take yourself into consideration man. It won’t end well if they meet, don’t lose this chance” Keiji barely said before the lunch bell rang. (Y/N) had the habit of sending notes to Aone in the middle of class. She figured since he didn’t like talking, maybe he liked writing. “ What’s wrong nobu-san?” the small note read. Oh how he wanted to tell her everything. In the small time they got to know each other, she became a safe place for him. Almost like his mother. The day went by fast, as Aone’s thoughts consumed him. Surely his mother had to accept the girl that was making his son’s heart flutter. “ Get you head out of it” Aone’s thoughts were broken as Futakuchi sat next to him on the train. “ I have a plan so I’m going over to yours, is that ok?” A simple nod is all he received. “ I want to see how your mom reacts, I’ve known her for two years, sure she’s quite like you but she doesn't seem like the jealous type. I’ll slowly bring up (Y/N) and see how it goes. I just want to see you happy man”. Aone felt grateful for the wonderful friends he had. He was alone most of his life, and now he has friends helping him and his romantic dilemmas.

Aone’s house is a quick walk from the train station, the boys were easily at Aone’s front porch within a couple minutes. “ Hello Mrs.Aone!” Futakuchi saif cheerfully, thinking of how to initiate his plan. “ Hello Keiji-kun, will you stay to eat?”...” With your food? Always”. Three plates later, Futakuchi slumped in his chair. “ Ah, everything I come over I eat like a starved man.” he stated, patting his tummy. “ I’ll pack some for your mother too. I’ll be back” After she walked out, the plan commenced. “ Ok Aone, I’m going to make a fake phone call to (Y/N), I don't know, I’ll add something related to Christmas. I’ll make it sound like she really cares for you, then your mom would be ok with it right?” Keiji said excitedly. Aone’s head slanted like a confused bear. “ To be fair, I said I had a plan, never said it was a good plan.” Aone’s mother’s footsteps could be heard walking back to the dining room. He quickly dialed (Y/N) to commence the plan. “Hello?” you answered, confused as to why Futakuchi would call you. “ Oh hey! Yea, I think he would definitely Like that '' Futakuchi said out loud, making sure Aone’s mother could hear. “Hmm, Aone always liked turtles, maybe something of that sort” Futakuchi’s loud voice made Aone;s blush deepen. “ Futakuchi-san, what are you talking about?” You were not even more confused. You knew he knew about your crush on his best friend but he didn’t think he would outwardly call you about it, though it did help since you were planning to confess to him on Christmas day. “ Keiji-kun, its rude to speak on the phone while you're in the table” Aone’s eyes shot up to his mother. She never commented on someone else's actions, especially when she talks on the phone in the table too. “ Sorry, ‘I’ll call you later (Y/N)’ Again, sorry for being rude Mrs.Aone, I think its best for me to leave, thank you for the food” Futakuchi power walked to the door, giving a signal to Aone that he’ll text him later.

“ Yea, you’re mom is definitely jealous” The notification pulled up on Aone’s phone. “ She never comments on my actions :('' a second message came in. Determined to fix the issue, Aone made his way to his mother’s room. “Hi baby, what’s up” his mother looked up from her book. “Why are you acting weird” he bluntly stated. “ I have no ide-”...” The first time I have a girl that likes me back, you act all different. I thought you would be happy for me.” Aone said with a monotone voice. “ Takanobu, baby, you wouldn;t understand. What she feels for you is temporary. Don’t you remember what Sayu made you feel? She liked you for one week and left you. What makes you think that (Y/N) won’t do the same? They all just want to hurt you, like your dad hurt me” He saw his mother spit every word out. He knew his after leaving caused a heavy impact on her. He became the man of the house, a pillar for his mother to lean on. He could never leave his mother. What if she had a point? What if you temporarily liked him? Why would he leave his mothers side to be with someone who would love him for one day? He kneeled down by his mother, tears threatening to spill out. “ Takanobu, look at me. You can;t continue to like her. She will never love you like I do” Her words opened the gates to his tears. She held her son once again, despite his large size, he would always be her little boy.

Everyone noticed how Aone seemed to ignore you in school. You couldn’t say he stopped talking to you, the only form of communication the both of you had was through small notes. You naive mind tried to find excuses. “ What if he is trying to play hard to get, it’ll make the confession much more worth it now. Wait. isn;t tomorrow Christmas?!” Taking out a small note, you quickly wrote. Passing it to Aone’s seatmate. Aone opened the small note, wanting to not even read it, remembering his mothers words. “Please meet me by the Christmas Tree outside the school gate around sun down tomorrow!” Aone crumbled the small letter in his palm and placed it in his pocket. Tomorrow he would tell you how he felt. Tomorrow finally came, you put on a beautiful christmas dress. It was a deep blue, complementing Aone’s name and white hair. You grabbed the neatly wrapped present and made your way to the school gates. The sun was setting way faster than you expected, the street lights were coming on as you saw Aone from a distance, sitting on the bench near the highly decorated tree. “Aone-san!” you quietly yell as you power walk to him. His eyes stayed fixated on the tree, not wanting to look at you. Sitting down next to him, you pushed the present towards him. “No thank you” is all he said. Turning his face to you, you saw his tear stained face. “ I always dreamed of finding a soulmate. Getting excited to see a single person is all I ever wanted. I thought it was you too, but you’re just like the rest.” Aone softly said. His words were like baldes to your heart. “What?” your voice cracked. “ My mother always knows what is right, I loved you (Y/N), I really did, but I trust her more than you. Looking at the stars, I remembered you and I asked if there was anyone for me, perhaps in another galaxy far from here. I will keep looking for a thousand light years”. Aone simply stood up and walked away. The cold wind comforted you, the dim lights made the tears streaming down your face look like shooting stars. With shaking hands, you opened the gift. Pulling out the small turtle ceramic, you smashed it on the floor, revealing a turtle keychain with the small words “Be Mine?”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq #hq x reader #plz forgive me aone #aone takanobu angst #aone x y/n #aone angst #aone x you #aone x reader #aone takanobu x reader

186 notes · View notes

thegirlonpeetamellark · 4 years ago

Text

Christmas Break - Part 1

Surprise!! After a looong time away Court returns to Everlark fic world with a little holiday treat for everyone - enjoy! :)

Hi everyone. So 2020 has sucked. For me, the beginning of quarantine was actually a bit of a gift. Being home gave me the gift of time, something I haven’t had much of as my daughters (who were very little when I started writing in this fandom) have gotten older. While I never stopped writing, it was a struggle to find long enough chunks of time to get into a flow. I started writing again with earnest. Not all of it was my fanfiction; some of it was my original work. El keeps me posted on the humbling and kind asks she gets about my writing. I felt bad that despite my increased writing, I still wasn’t ready to update any WIPs. But I did remember a story I had started for the final holiday PiP that I was never able to get past the first page (due to lack of time that year) and to my surprise, it started flowing. I had every intention of finishing it and having El post it as a gift to this fandom. But once my school went “back” in October and hybrid learning started, that was it. My time was gone. And further, my family experienced the very sudden and non-Covid-related death of my aunt. So while I have nearly half of this story written, it’s not done. But it will be, very soon, since it is a one-shot. As with all my stories, it took on a life of its own and it needs more love. So what I have for the readers who have loyally followed me is the first part, the part that involves Christmas. It’s my hope to have a second part posted in a week or two, so that by the time that part posts, a final part is nearly done.

Thank you for your asks and your patience, and thank you to El, one of my favorite people in this world and the best thing my time in this fandom has given me. Thank you for your encouragement. Our friendship means the world to me.

Here’s to a better 2021. Love to you all. Court

Christmas Break

Fuck, not again, Peeta grouses as the opening notes of that insidious Mariah Carey song pipe through the loudspeaker. That’s the third time in the last two hours. He’s all for holiday spirit, but if he never hears this fucking song again it will be too soon.

Leaning his forehead against the cold pane of glass, he peers out of the fourth-story window into the darkened sky. When he had arrived at work a few hours ago, the snow had just been starting to fall; a slow, lazy tumble of flakes. Now it’s coming down in a tumultuous swirl. It figures Panem would finally see a white Christmas his first Christmas Eve on rotation in the emergency room. No doubt the weather is partially to blame for the crush of bodies crowding the waiting room tonight.

Peeta walks away from the window and opens the cabinet where he stashes his Clif bars. The economy-sized box looks suspiciously closer to empty than it did the other day. He’s heard complaints from other doctors and nurses that snacks are pilfered on a regular basis and was warned to label his own boxes. But he had forgone the warnings. If someone needed an energy bar badly enough to steal one, what was the $20 he had spent on them at Costco. He snags one and unwraps it.

He’s just raised it to his mouth when his Apple watch pings and his silenced cell phone pulses insistently against his thigh. Heaving a loud sigh, he sets down the energy bar and withdraws the phone from his pocket.

“Mom, you’ve got exactly 60 seconds,” he grits out. He doesn’t even need to look at the screen to confirm it’s her. She’s called twice already tonight, calls he’s ignored with good reason, but somehow his mother thinks a phone call from her trumps any actual emergencies her doctor son could be dealing with. Which, tonight, have been nonstop since his shift began at six.

“Please tell me you ate something,” she begins.

“I was just about to, when you called,” he replies. “I’ve only got a couple of minutes. It’s been utter chaos for the last four hours.”

“We missed you at dinner. I can’t remember the last Christmas Eve when I didn’t have all three of my boys together.” Peeta closes his eyes. All these years my mother has been gushing about having a doctor in the family, and yet she never stopped to consider the ramifications of actually having a doctor in the family, he thinks. Particularly its impact on holiday gatherings. She obviously hadn’t learned anything from this past Thanksgiving, as now, just a month later, she’s already dumping a fresh guilt trip on him for missing another family dinner.

She continues, “And Jackson and Maxwell were just devastated when they heard you weren’t coming, until I assured them they’d see you tomorrow. We will see you tomorrow, yes?”

Peeta suppresses another exasperated sigh and breaks off a chunk of the Clif bar. “Yes, Mom, I’ll be there.” And though it’s childish, he crams the bar into his mouth and mumbles around it, “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” His chewing masks the sarcasm that weighs down the words.

“Excellent. We need an updated family portrait before Everly and Rye have to leave for her parents’ house.” Placated, his mother moves to ends the call, but not before getting in a less-than-subtle comment about how much she adores his brother Rye’s fiancée and how happy she is Rye is settling down.

Staring at the disconnected call flashing on the screen, Peeta tries not to let the remark get to him. Mostly because he knows it’s a lie. His mother has complained more than once about Everly and how she’s not good enough for Rye. Peeta knows the dig was directed at him. He hasn’t truly had a serious girlfriend since junior year of college; just a few casual relationships that barely qualified as relationships. He doesn’t know how his mother expects him to meet someone with the hours he keeps. And his father, for as close as they are, never seems willing to jump to Peeta’s defense.

Taking a deep breath to let his irritation suffuse, he jams his phone back in his pocket and scarfs down the rest of his pathetic dinner. All three bites of it. Then he uses the restroom, dutifully washes his hand, and stalks out of the staff lounge, his short break over.

As he strides up the corridor, he hears loud shouting coming from the ER waiting room.

“…should be asleep in her bed, waiting for Santa Claus to come, but instead, we’re still here waiting for someone to take a look at her arm! It’s been over two hours! Don’t you people have any compassion? Or is Ebenezer Freaking Scrooge running this place tonight?”

Curious, Peeta veers towards the reception desk, where his eyes land on the ranting woman. She’s young, probably no older than her mid-twenties, and in spite of the fact that her dark hair is spilling out of a messy braid and she’s not wearing any makeup, Peeta is immediately struck by her beauty. The rosy flush to her cheeks from her tirade actually makes her even prettier. She’s cradling a toddler and protectively shielding the little girl’s right arm. The toddler’s blonde head rests on her mother’s shoulder, her thumb wedged into her tiny pink mouth. Her left arm clutches a stuffed orange cat. She looks tired. Actually, both mother and daughter do.

“Miss, I understand your frustration, I really do,” the receptionist says calmly, her eyes cutting to Peeta as he stops by her side. He reads the name on the file on top of the stack, the next patient scheduled to be seen: MCMURPHY, JOSEPH. Clearly not the little girl in front of him.

“I don’t think you do!” the young mother cries, her eyes flashing steel. “She’s three, she’s in pain, and she’s scared. And what’s more, I’ve seen at least five people go ahead of us who came in after us!”

“That’s not how the emergency room works, miss,” the receptionist replies. She drums her fingertips on the desk, offering the young mother a tight smile.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” the young mother adds, an edge of desperation creeping into her tone. Discreetly, Peeta moves around the receptionist’s chair, scanning the desktop until he spies the stack of files for the patients awaiting admission. While the receptionist continues to give the young mother the run-around, he thumbs through the stack, searching. His eyes land on what he’s looking for: a date of birth. His lips tip up. Bingo. This has to be it: HAWTHORNE, IVY ANN.

At the exact second his hand snatches Ivy’s file from the pile and slips the other one in amongst the stack, the young mother’s eyes lock on his. Her gaze narrows. He can see the exhaustion all over her beautiful face. Her full lips twitch, her countenance suspicious as they stare at one another.

“Ivy Hawthorne?” Peeta taps the file he had extricated. An immediate flicker of relief lights the young mother’s mercury eyes, and that lush mouth breaks into a grateful, relieved smile. The receptionist’s neck snaps up. “I’ve got this,” he adds, his tone leaving no room for her to argue with him. It’s not protocol for Peeta to take a patient directly, but it’s also not blatantly against the rules. Sure, it might mean a little more work for him, but if it means he can get this little girl home sooner on Christmas Eve, it’s worth it.

He smiles at the little girl. “Ivy, I’m Doctor Mellark. I’m going to help make you feel better, okay?” She nods once but doesn’t lift her head from her mother’s shoulder. Peeta’s arm sweeps to the side, ushering the young mother and Ivy past the desk. He scans the hallway and spies a partially drawn curtain halfway up the corridor. He leads them to the available partition and close the curtain behind them. As he turns to face them, he nearly slams into the woman. She hasn’t moved, and her luminous grey eyes fasten to his. She looks as if she’s going to say something, but several seconds pass and she’s still quiet, still watching him. The silence starts to become uncomfortable. Peeta clears his throat.

“If you’d have a seat, please, Mrs. Hawthorne. You can hold her while I get some more information from you.”

The young woman’s lips part slightly, again appearing as if she wants to say something, but instead she shuffles forward and Peeta waits while she settles on the edge of the hospital bed, gingerly adjusting Ivy so she’s sitting sideways across her mother’s lap.

Peeta sinks down onto the stool and scoots towards the edge of the bed. This close he has a much better look at Ivy’s mother. She really is a beautiful young woman, and given how adorable Ivy is Peeta assumes her husband is probably also very attractive. He feels a twinge of jealousy. Lucky bastard. Pretty wife, cute kid…probably has a nice little house and a golden retriever too. Living the dream. His dream, if he allows himself to admit it to anyone but his mother. If he was being perfectly honest, he had always envisioned himself married by now.

“How old are you, Ivy?” he ask, even though he knows from her chart and her mother’s declaration that she’s three years old. She hesitates, and still clutching the stuffed cat, manages to display three fingers. Peeta smiles at her again.

“I have a nephew who is the exact same age as you are. He told me just last week that he’s a big boy now. Are you a big girl, Ivy?” He keeps his tone gentle, hoping it will put her at ease with him. She nods, her big blue eyes lightening imperceptibly. “I thought so. Can you be a big girl and tell me what happened to your arm?”

Her mother answers automatically, “She fell. I was only gone—” Peeta holds up his palm. He has the triage nurse’s initial assessment, so he knows Ivy’s arm is likely broken. What he doesn’t know is how the arm got broken. And those details he needs to try to get from Ivy herself. Kids her age always tell the truth when it comes to how they were injured, and unfortunately it’s part of Peeta’s job to make sure there isn’t a more sinister reason she’s in the E.R. tonight, no matter how sweet and innocent her mother appears. He’s already had a few encounters with suspected child abuse, though his gut tells him that isn’t the case with Ivy Hawthorne.

“Please. I would like Ivy to tell me how it happened.”

Something dangerous flints in Ivy’s mother’s now stormy grey eyes.

“She. Fell.” The words are curt, enunciated coolly, but her voice is soft and Peeta can tell she’s keeping her temper in check for the benefit of her daughter. Eyes still pinned to his, she inhales deeply. A second later, her shoulders relax. “Go ahead and tell the nice doctor how you hurt your arm,” she whispers, stroking Ivy’s curls.

“I was trying to see Santa,” Ivy replies, her tongue tripping in a lisp on the “S’s.”

“What do you mean by that?” he prompts her.

Ivy scrunches up her button nose. “I was trying to see up the chimney. ‘Cause the chimney at Aunt Katniss’s house is so skinny and Santa Claus is real fat and I don’t know how he’s gonna fit down it to bring me my presents!” Her blue eyes brim with tears and her lower lip starts to tremble. Peeta reaches over and pats her knee.

“I wouldn’t worry about that, sweetheart. Santa Claus is magic. He’ll get you your presents, no matter what the chimney looks like.” He exchanges a look with her mother.

“It was all my fault,” she says quietly. “I went in the kitchen, to get the cookies and milk—”

“And the carrots! For Rudolph and the other reindeer!” Ivy chimes in, her eyes shiny wet.

“I never should have left her alone, not even for a second. This is my fault. It’s my fault. She wouldn’t have slipped and fallen off the hearth if I had been watching her.” Guilt chokes her words, and it sounds as if she’s close to tears.

“Accidents happen, Mrs. Hawthorne,” Peeta says empathetically, “that’s why there are emergency rooms.” She presses her lips together, her brows knitting.

“It’s Everdeen,” she says quietly. Peeta drops his eyes to Ivy’s chart, and furrows his brows, his gaze wandering to the young woman’s left hand. No ring. A brief thrill curls through him at the thought that she’s single. Asshole, he immediately chides himself. So not what you should be thinking about right now. He scans the chart more carefully and shakes his head.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, “but this lists Primrose Hawthorne as the mother, under the Parent/Guardian information, and a Rory Hawthorne as the father. I just assumed—”

She cuts him off. “Primrose Hawthorne was her mother. But I’m not Primrose Hawthorne. I’m Katniss. Katniss Everdeen. I’m her aunt. I should be listed as her primary emergency contact.” She swallows and squeezes her eyes shut briefly. When she opens them, they plead with his. Peeta glances down at Ivy, and then raises his eyes to Katniss again. The guilt that was clouding those silver irises a moment ago has dissipated, replaced with anguish. He doesn’t know what the full story is here, but he didn’t miss Katniss’s usage of the past tense in referring to Ivy’s mother. So he honors her silent appeal not to ask questions.

“Okay, Ivy, you fell, and you landed on your arm? I bet that hurt,” Peeta says to the little girl, but his gaze stays fastens on Katniss. She gives him the faintest smile and mouths, “Thank you.”

~*~*~*~

An hour later, the orthopedist informs Peeta that Ivy Hawthorne is ready for his approval to be discharged. Not wanting to keep her and her aunt waiting any later than necessary, he sets down the X-ray he had been studying, and heads back to where Ivy is.

Standing outside the curtain, he hears quiet singing. He draws back the curtain and sees Katniss seated on the bed, with Ivy nestled in her lap. A bright pink cast safely cocoons the girl’s arm. Her blonde head rests on Katniss’s shoulder. Her eyes are closed, and her little body rises and falls with the deep breathing of sleep.

Katniss continues to sing, unaware of Peeta’s presence. He doesn’t recognize the tune she’s singing. It’s not a Christmas carol, at least not one he’s ever heard before, but he continues to listen, captivated by her voice. It’s soft and decidedly feminine, but there’s raspy undercurrent to it that gives him chills. It’s like the first sip of a rich, smoky bourbon.

Gingerly, he tiptoes towards the bed and stands before her for several more minutes, until Katniss finally lifts her eyes. She immediately stops singing. Peeta smiles and nods towards Ivy.

“Someone is worn out,” he whispers. Katniss’s lips twitch into a chagrinned smile.

“I’m sure the second we get home she’ll be wide awake and it’ll take forever to get her into bed. She was already amped up about Santa Claus before this.” She tips her head and gestures with her chin towards Ivy’s arm.

“Warm milk. With a little bit of cinnamon,” he suggests.

“Really?” Her eyes round. “Cinnamon? That really works?” Disbelief clouds her words. He shrugs sheepishly.

“I have no idea. No kids. And I’ve never had much trouble sleeping. I’m usually asleep the minute my head hits the pillow. But I’ve heard from a friend with a toddler that it does the trick.” He waits for her to say something—anything—in response, but she doesn’t. Her gaze is back on the sleeping toddler in her arms.

Watching her stare tenderly at her niece causes something unexpected to claw at Peeta’s chest and he’s overwhelmed by a fierce compulsion to want to keep her here, to get to know more about her. It’s been a long time since he felt this kind of instant attraction to a woman. Why couldn’t he have met her under different circumstances?

“Are we all done, doctor?”

Peeta startles from his thoughts and offers Katniss an apologetic smile.

“Yes, sorry. You are good to go as soon as you sign here—” He holds the clipboard at an angle, to allow her to sign without having to disturb Ivy, “and here.” He flips the sheet back to the second page and she scrawls her name across the line there, too. Normally a nurse would go over discharge papers and protocol with patients, but Peeta had taken it upon himself to grab Ivy’s. He needed to spend every possible minute in Katniss’s presence.

Once the release forms are complete, he review the plan for Ivy’s follow-up care, including how to manage any pain she has and when she’ll need to return to have the cast removed. Katniss listens attentively.

When he’s finished, she stands up slowly, her movements tentative so as not to jostle Ivy. A sigh parts the little girl’s lips and she stirs, but she remains asleep. God, she’s cute, Peeta thinks.

“Thank you, Dr. Mellark,” Katniss says softly. “For everything. I know what you did…” She falters. “I mean, I know we, ah, weren’t next, and ah…” Peeta waves a hand dismissively, sensing her discomfort with his hijacking of the queued patients.

“It was my pleasure,” he replies. “Little girls should be home on Christmas Eve. Waiting for Santa.” He echoes Katniss’s earlier words. “I hope he’s good to her.”

He doesn’t miss the forlorn expression that flits across Katniss’s face as she glances down at her sleeping niece.

“He can’t bring her what she wants most, but he’ll try,” she murmurs and moves towards the open curtain. Just before she steps out into the hall, she pauses and turns to face Peeta.

“Merry Christmas,” she adds.

“Merry Christmas,” he concurs. With a faint smile, she steps around the curtain. It rustles in her wake and resettles. Peeta exhales and slumps against the wall, regret washing through him, followed by a stronger wave of sadness at seeing Katniss go. If it hadn’t been for Ivy, he might have concocted some kind of delay to keep Katniss here longer, found some excuse to pry more information out of her. Like if she’s single. A surge of adrenaline spikes in his blood. He can’t let her go this easily.

He bolts out into the corridor, scanning the bustling hallway for any sign of Katniss and Ivy, but they’ve vanished. Disappointed, his shoulders slump as he trudges towards the nurses’ station to hand off Ivy’s file.

It’s probably best, a nagging little voice inside him taunts, and he reluctantly concedes that it probably is. As much as he’d love to finally shut his mother up and find a woman that he’d want to spend more than a night with, it’s not fair to subject one to the kind of schedule he has to keep. New doctors are low-man-on-the-totem-pole. He’s had mostly graveyard shifts and he’s often on call. It’s his dream to have a pediatric practice, but he’s well aware that he’ll have to toil for a couple of years to get on track to make that dream a reality.

A few minutes later, en route to his next examination, Peeta spies Johanna, one of the triage nurses, coming out of the room Ivy had occupied. His eyes immediately narrow when his gaze lands on her left arm.

“Was that in there?” He motions towards the vacated room and then nods towards the stuffed cat Johanna has wedged under her armpit.

“What, the cat? Yeah. It must have fallen under the bed. I’ll take it to the station, in case someone comes back to claim it.”

Ivy’s cherubic little face flashes in Peeta’s mind. He remember how fiercely she had been clutching that cat, and how she had reluctantly agreed to put it down when it had been time for Delly, another one of the triage nurses, to take her for X-rays.

Peeta’s pulse quickens and he immediately thrusts his hand towards Johanna. “I’ll take it,” he says impulsively. She wrinkles her nose and cocks her head, her hazel eyes intensely scrutinizing him. Though they have a casual friendship, Johanna is far too insightful for her own good. Peeta doesn’t really need her questioning his motives for taking possession of the toy.

“The little girl it belongs to goes to preschool with Max. I’ll make sure he takes it to her after the holiday break.” Fuck, that lie flew off his tongue so easily he almost believes it himself. Johanna shrugs and tosses Peeta the cat.

“Suit yourself. One less thing to overflow the Lost and Found.” She strides past him and disappears into Triage 6. He stares down at the stuffed animal. His heart skips another beat and a slow smile tugs at his mouth.

~*~*~*~

Stifling another yawn, Peeta squints at the numbers above the garage. He’s definitely in the right place. He kills the engine and sits for a moment, glancing at the clock on the navigation system. It’s quarter after nine. Early, but not obscenely so. When his shift had ended at six am, he had driven home and fought the urge to crawl into bed; instead, he grabbed a quick shower and freshened up. True, part of him hadn’t wanted to see Katniss Everdeen again looking like the bedraggled, exhausted mess he was at the end of a rotation, and also true, he was going to have to clean up before he’s due at his parents’ house at one. But he also knew he couldn’t really have shown up at Katniss’s house at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning, even if he suspects Ivy likely had her up by then. He recalls, with a wistful smile, that Christmas morning was the one morning he and his brothers were always awake before his father. It was only a question of which Mellark brother was going to be the first to rouse the others. Him being the youngest, it was usually him, he admits with a wider grin.

He quietly exits his car, careful not to slam the door, and gingerly steps across the icy driveway. He pauses at the un-shoveled front walk, where a pristine blanket of snow blocks his path. “Shit,” he whispers, gritting his teeth as he takes the first step. His foot plunges into the deep drift, up to nearly his calf. He braces himself and takes a huge step, hoping to eat up the distance in a few long strides. Fortunately, it’s not a long front walk. He reaches the also un-shoveled front steps and carefully ascends them. He contemplates ringing the doorbell, but instead raps his knuckles against the door. His breath pipes out in white plumes and he rubs his palms together for warmth as he waits.

No one comes to the door, at least not immediately. Peeta lifts his fist again, but just before his knuckles can connect with the wood again, the front door opens a crack and he’s suddenly looking at Katniss. Those silver eyes round almost comically as recognition lights them.

“D-Doctor Mellark? Wh-what are you….”

“Hi. Merry Christmas,” he begins. “I thought Ivy would be missing this.” He smiles and holds up the stuffed cat.

Katniss stares at him, her lips parting faintly, and shock and confusion war on her pretty face. But then her grey eyes darken with what Peeta can only describe as restrained fury.

She opens the door fully and glares at him.

“You had Ivy’s cat?” she accuses.

“Uh…yeah…” he stammers, his own confusion welling. Why is she so angry? “My nephew…he has a bear. Otis. Can’t sleep without that thing. I thought if Ivy is anything like Max…well, she’d be missing this.” He holds the cat out to Katniss. She snatches it so violently that she stumbles backwards. Peeta is equally jarred, but his jolt is from the very brief brush of Katniss’s fingers against his when she had grabbed the toy.

But Katniss gives him no time to revel in the feeling.

“So this is why no one at the hospital had a goddamned clue what I was talking about when I called there looking for this cat an hour ago!” she spits.

Shit, Peeta thinks, an uneasy feeling clawing its way into his gut.

“Why the fuck—” He can’t help but notice her slight hesitation before she lobs the obscenity at him. “—would you take my niece’s cat? Is this something normal people do?” She’s shivering visibly as she rants, a clear consequence of stepping onto her front porch wearing nothing but green plaid pajama pants and a threadbare black Henley shirt.

“I….I…” He shakes his head. He’s not even sure how to defend his actions. He can’t very well tell her his ulterior motives in bringing the stuffed cat back to her niece. Not now. He definitely fucked this up.

“I was just trying to be nice. That I’d save you a trip on Christmas morning,” he finishes lamely.

Katniss’s nostrils flare and her jaw flexes. “Christmas morning,” she mutters, just barely audible over the clattering of her teeth. “Did it occur to you, Dr. Mellark, that I might be looking for Ivy’s cat and I might call the hospital looking for this cat?” She shakes the toy in his face. “And did it occur to you that, in spite of all the toys she had just opened, Ivy might be bawling and throwing a fit because Buttercup was missing?”

Buttercup, he has to assume, is the stuffed cat.

She pauses, as if waiting for him to defend himself, but all he can do is swallow against the lump crowding his throat.

So she continues, “They made me think I was crazy—but not until after they left me on hold for 20 minutes while I tried to calm a wailing toddler. And then they said there was no toy matching this description in the Lost and Found. And that’s because you had it!” Her eyes are a maelstrom now, but he notices that an edge of frustration has crept into her furious tone.

“And now Ivy doesn’t have it. So thank you. Thank you very much, Dr. Mellark. Merry Christmas.” And before Peeta can release the breath he’s been holding during her outburst and plead his case, she whirls around, her disheveled braid lancing through the air like a whip, and slams the door behind her. Stunned, Peeta can only stare at the wreath on the door as he processes what just happened.

What. The. Fuck.

Heart pounding, gut churning, Peeta retreats to his car. He takes a few minutes to absorb the shock of his encounter with Katniss, his mind reeling through the accusations she made. He never would have expected her to react like this. So much for any shot with Katniss Everdeen.

He finally gathers his composure and navigates out of her complex. As he drives, his mind continues replaying Katniss’s words over and over, and he finds one thing nags at him.

And now Ivy doesn’t have it.

Those words don’t make much sense to him. He just gave the stuffed animal back to Katniss. She can give it back to Ivy. She’ll have it now. In her wrath, Katniss just wasn’t being rational, he decides.

But her words continue to haunt him off and on for the rest of the day. Along with persistent images of Katniss that further torment him. She is never far from his conscious thoughts. As he sits down next to the fireplace in his parents’ house with a tumbler of scotch to exchange gifts with his brothers and his nephews, he finds himself wondering who Katniss is celebrating with. Ivy, obviously. But does she have other family?

By the time the Mellarks all settle around the table for dinner, he’s conjured up the notion that Katniss may not be married, but she surely has a devoted boyfriend who is showering her with gifts at this very moment. Her mood is infinitely better than what Peeta witnessed earlier. She’s probably dressed nice for him, and he’s sitting around her dining room table with Katniss and Ivy, like a makeshift family.

His mother’s irritation is palpable when she has to command his attention twice to try and draw him into the discussion centered on Rye’s upcoming wedding. Peeta murmurs the apology he knows she expects and feigns his dutiful brotherly interest for Rye’s benefit the remainder of the meal. But a dull ache has taken up residence in the center of his chest and he realizes just how badly he wants what his brothers have.

He just won’t be having it with Katniss Everdeen.

#everlark #the hunger games #everlark fanfiction #court81981

179 notes · View notes

frostedfaves · 4 years ago

Text

To Build A Home (10)

Masterlist

Pairing: Rosa Diaz x fem!reader

Summary: Rosa spent years building a friendship, relationship, and eventually a marriage and home with you. This tale follows your journey together up until her sudden murder. Now that you’ve tracked down her killer before anyone else, will you do the right thing and send him to prison or take care of him yourself?

Warnings: some emotional grieving with everyone involved, brief moment of soft!Rosa

A/N: this is the last chapter of the series! I’m sad that this is ending (aside from future blurb requests) but I’m excited to have more time to work on other things! I haven’t really worked on I Don’t Feel Alive much in the past few weeks so posting dates are TBD, but I will be opening my requests again soon while I figure it out! anyway thanks again for all your feedback, comments, reblogs, any little attention you gave to this series, I appreciate it all.

Previous chapter here

A frantic knocking brings Jake and Amy’s attention away from their book or phone, the two of them locking eyes across the table.

“Were you expecting anyone?”

Jake shakes his head, following Amy as she jumps to her feet and heads to the door. Upon opening it, her heart breaks at the sight of you on the other side, holding a bouquet of flowers that caught a few of the tears spilling down your cheeks.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry for popping up so suddenly,” you spoke hoarsely, attempting and failing to clear your face with one sleeve. “It’s our first wedding anniversary and I was going to visit her grave but before I knew it I was here. I don’t want to speak to her that way and I don’t want to see her that way again and I don’t want to—”

You fell into Amy’s waiting arms as you broke, repeating “I don’t want to” until it turned into mumbled sounds mixed in with your sobbing. Jake quickly came around to close the door, putting the flowers you dropped off to the side before sandwiching you into a hug from the other side.

After you’d finally calmed down enough to breathe the three of you moved over to the couch, sitting in silence until you were ready to share what was on your mind. You held the bouquet in your arms once more, cradling it to your chest with one arm while you organized your thoughts.

“I didn’t even get to call her my wife for a year before she was gone.”

Amy shifted her teary gaze to you, placing a hand on your free one with a gentle touch. Jake sat on the other side of you, listening while trying to get a hold of his own emotions.

“We’ll never get to celebrate one year, five, ten, fifty. I wanted all of that time with her and it was stolen from me so easily.”

“Why don’t you write her a letter?” Jake suggested quietly. “When my grandma passed, Gina and I wrote letters to thank her for everything she did for us, and basically say anything we didn’t get to say before she went. I actually, um...I actually wrote one to Rosa the other day.”

Your eyes watered as you turned to him, a tear dropping as you addressed him. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked, brows pressed together in confusion.

“I’ve been so lost in my own grieving that I forgot you lost someone too.” You turned to Amy. “Both of you have.”

“Y/N,” Jake placed his hand on your shoulder, offering you a sad smile. “Yes we all lost her, but she meant something different to each of us. We can’t always relate to each other’s pain with this because it’s different for all of us, and it’s not selfish to take the time to focus on working through what you feel.”

You returned his sad smile with a little more hope behind yours, placing the flowers on the table in front of you and grabbing both of their hands.

“I love you guys. Thanks for always being there for me.”

Amy chuckled a bit, squeezing your hand between both of hers. “It’s one of my favorite things to do.”

You’d barely been home from Jake and Amy’s apartment five minutes before there was a knock on your door. You opened it and a grin appeared on your face at the sight of Terry and the twins.

“Hi, Auntie Y/N!”

“Hi, sweet angels!” you greeted them as you pulled them into a group hug. “Hey, Sarge. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just picked the girls up from a playdate and I needed to bring you this.” He handed you a plastic bag that you instantly recognized.

“Is this the—”

“Yeah.” He sighed heavily. “I was going through the case file and realized this was still in evidence. I was able to sign it out because it had no relation to anything, and based on what today is, you may need it.”

“Daddy let us put something in there for you, too!”

“Yeah! It’s an invitation to dinner tomorrow and your favorite cookies,” Cagney added, her eyes suddenly widening. “Sorry, that was supposed to be a surprise.”

“It’s okay, Cagney,” Terry assured her with a pat on the shoulder before turning back to you. “Are you going to be okay? We would love to have you tonight, too.”

“I’ll be fine, and I’ll be there tomorrow. Thanks for the gift, angels,” you addressed the twins as you hugged them one last time.

You took your time opening the bag once you were alone, setting the card and cookies to the side and using your shaking hands to sift through the rest of the items. Underneath things like toothpaste and deodorant sat a little booklet titled “First Year of Many”.

You took a deep breath and opened it to a page with a handwritten note, handwriting you knew to be Rosa’s. Blinking back a few tears, you stroked your finger along the page carefully before finally reading her last words to you.

“Y/N Diaz, I love you. I was going to stop there, but I know you love it when I get mushy or whatever. So I’ll add that this has been the best (almost) year of my life. Being your wife and having you as mine is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, especially after the horrors of coming out to my parents and being framed. You’re my favorite person in the world, and I can’t wait to celebrate our wedding day every year for the rest of our lives.”

By the end of the note you were sobbing again, and you had to take a few moments to breathe before you could move onto the pictures. Each one was from different days in the past year starting with your wedding day, and you admire her beauty through nonstop tears. Some were taken on special events like birthdays, with or without friends, and others were simply selfies from lazy days where you fell asleep before she did.

You closed the book and took the bag in your bedroom, setting the book on your bedside table to look at again later and placing the other items in the bathroom. You grabbed your phone and sat on the couch, dialing Rosa’s number and trying not to cry again when you heard her voice for the first time in months.

“Rosa Diaz’s phone. Leave a message or don’t.”

“Hey, baby. Um, happy anniversary. I really liked your present, by the way. Nowhere near as good as what I was going to get you.” You laughed a bit, sounding somewhat pathetic mixed in with sniffles.

“I miss you so fucking much. I miss your voice, your snorting laugh, riding on the back of your motorcycle, and cuddling morning, afternoon and night. I’ve never known pain like this before and I never want to again.”

A couple seconds of silence passed before you started again.

“I hope you’re safe and happy wherever you are. I hope you have unlimited axes to throw, and the Nancy Meyers movies are easily accessible. Most importantly, I hope you don’t miss me as much as I miss you because this really fucking hurts. Arlo and I feel like an incomplete puzzle without you. Anyway, I love you and—”

The automated voice cuts you off and you hang up instantly, not needing another reminder that you’ve run out of time to talk to Rosa. Part of you felt lighter after spilling your thoughts out to her, even if she couldn’t hear them. You smiled as Arlo padded sleepily into the room and climbed onto the couch to lie next to you, resting his head on your thigh. You thought back to Rosa’s vows, realizing that her wish of building a home with you had been granted.

You just wish she’d gotten the chance to live in it a little longer.

Tags: @creepingwolfberry @rosadiazswifey @milkfromhell @marie-03 @jay-is-groovy @gaulty74 @xetherealbeautyx

#to build a home #rosa diaz #rosa diaz x reader #rosa diaz imagine #rosa diaz x fem!reader #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine imagine #brooklyn nine nine fic series #brooklyn nine nine x reader #b99 fic #b99 imagine #b99 fic series #b99 x reader #b99 fanfic #b99 #stephanie beatriz

60 notes · View notes

secndlife · 4 years ago

Note

omg i'm so sorry it has taken me so long to respond, i got lost in the sauce D:

ahhh brazil to poland sounds very drastic but also very cool (no pun intended)!!!

you deserve any and all love you receive for mmf!!! it's rly so good, i can't shut up abt it lol !

mingyu IS a malewife, i agree!! and omg plz, hoshi recording the spider mv drove me crazy lajdfalfja like SIR WATER U DOING but also, carry on :) or like in that christmas in august gose where he just sat there and watched...he's the moodmaker which is very important and necessary!

yesss after i read one last time, i read one and two small petals and that one hurt almost as bad :") i'll have to check out passion (flower), i have been slacking on reading fics lately :/

jeonghan rly is so versatile!! i love enemies to lovers fics, and he truly is one of my favorite members to have that dynamic w. you definitely made sense re: characterization! i have dabbled in writing fics and so i totally understand that. i think part of why i enjoy writing fics based off of real ppl/established characters is that it gives me a template of a character, but like you said, bc we only know part of who they rly are, it gives me a basis of where i could go/explore their personalities deeper. i feel like i just rambled so lmk if that doesn't make sense hahaha

ahhhh mmf2 i cannot WAIT i saw your post re: fights and tbh i love fights (HELP) so i'm vvvvv excited for it !!! also related to that. writing rly is hard lkadjfkldaf but that's why i commend you so much, it's not easy and on top of that, you do a pretty damn good job!

ugh gyucheol sometimes -_- they fight so much and also i want to fight them too, just put me in a ring w them and let's BRAWL (but now that you mention that they're both fire signs, this totally makes sense as i am also a fire sign LMAO)

okay so you mentioned gose, which episode or episodes are your favorites? are there any you'd want to be a part of as like a member/watch as like a live audience type thing?

i feel like we can't move on without asking what your fav title tracks are! top 5 fave tracks (can include b-sides)?

- 🍳

IT'S OKAAAAY i hope you're having some rest and taking care of yourself!!!!

ok lemme add a cut and we can continue

it was indeed very drastic tbh but i have no regrets !!! it's literally going to be two years tomorrow so WOW IT'S BEEN A RIDE.

plsssss 🥺🥺🥺🥺 it's almost at 1k notes that's absolutely insane for me like literally. bonkers luv ! it makes me super happy tho that people really like it 🥺

SOONYOUNG IS ABSOLUTELY INSANE I CAN'T WITH THAT did u see vernon saying something like that on his latest vlive THIS ONE and he's totally right soonyoung's role as mood maker is so important :/ my boy :/

one and two small petals was such a big deal to me i was so obsessed !!! passion (flower) you need to dm the author tho :/ they took it out but they were still sending links through dm hehe IT'S WORTH IT I PROMISE !!!!!!

pls e2l with jeonghan HITS DIFFERENT!! it's literally a dynamic i feel suits him sosososo much! and yes same like i have some perspective and something to roughly shape it but i can also "play" with it as i go and according to what suits me. AND YES ALL OF IT MADE SENSE AND I TOTALLY AGREE 🤝

THE FIGHT SCENEALKSDJAKLAD me the other day: no mmf couple doesn't fight. also me: writes a LONG LONG scene on them fighting. i'm excited tho bc i think it's a necessary scene that adds a lot to soonyoung's character and his vulnerability bc mc's shows more in mmf and now it will be a moment for Him you know.

OMGGGG A FIRE SIGNNNNN!!!! I LOVE FIRE SIGNS !!!!!!!!! WE'RE THE BEST PLS!!!!!!! i really really love gyucheol they're so fun i love them. my friend were writing me a poly gyucheol au where i'm their gf it would be a crazy dynamic aksdjaksjkf bc i'm literally like cheol so i think it'd be so fun

OMG GOSE i fucking LOVE the playground gose that one makes me so happy it's literally a serotonin boost. i also love the ttt ones i would love to be on the hiperrealism one bc i'm 100% sure soonyoung throws up from drinking when he goes upstairs so i would like to be there for confirmation !!! i also love bungee jump even tho i would never do it. and don't lie 1 and the tag !!!!!!! HBU???

ok this is HARD. but. uh! second life (WHO WOULD'VE KNOWN), home (i have a tattoo written "i'm your home" hehe), ah! love (they did it all for me there really), together (PLS THIS SONG MAKES ME SO HAPPY AND NOSTALGIC IT HITS DIFFERENT) and odihtd (this was one of the first svt songs i really really liked it). but this is so hard tho their discography is so good !!!! hbu share yours !

#🍳 anon

2 notes · View notes

blackevermore · 4 years ago

Text

x Secrets of The Lake: The Company of Misery and Pain

{ Chapter 6 }

Summary: Vladimir Masters’ family tree has always been tainted by secrets swept under the rug. From generation to generation there have been countless reasons the Masters’ family had seemed to keep private from the public. Even to this day, Vladimir was no exception. But what was one to do when a restless spirit from the settlement years finally breaks free from restraints and demands you answer for your ancestor’s crimes? Vladimir doesn’t know. However, Clockworks does.

Notes: We just having fun, rewriting some of the canon, new adventure new characters. I will apologize now for any grammar, spelling, weird sentence structuring in advance. My brain writes faster than my fingers and even when I go back through to reread it I still miss things. Sorry about that!

Word Count: 2681

Maybe Danny should have stayed for dinner, gone home late and stayed long enough to defuse Dani’s anger towards Vlad. She was still mad at Danny but at least she would talk to him. This wasn’t the first time he has upset his daughter and had a silent dinner with her, that was bound to happen in the life of a parent who didn’t necessarily raise their kid. But this silent death had an added bonus of Dani staring at Vlad with a hint of confusion. Vlad tried his best to ignore it and pick at his food but the way her eyes seemed to dig further and further into his being it was impossible to ignore her.

“Danielle, I’m sure you are aware that staring is rude, no matter how much the other person upset you.” Vlad tried to sound as calm as possible as he spoke and for the most part it worked. Dani's eyes shot down towards her food and she quickly took a bite off her plate. Vlad sighed and decided he was done for the night, he wasn’t that hungry anyway, he snapped his fingers for the maid to come and clean.

“Ya’know you could just get up and take it to the kitchen like a human.” Dani mockingly stated dragging out the word human just to emphasize her point. Vlad rose a brow and looked at her a bit bewildered but accepting the remark.

“As should you use the stairs to get to your room or anywhere else in the house. I know it's rather large but humans do it all the time.” Vlad couldn’t hide his amusement as Dani gave him a look of ‘shut up old man’. That spitfire attitude was all Danny’s and only 2% Vlad. Had Vlad had it his way a very long time ago, Danny would be his son doing the same thing and maybe Dani would have been there as well. Vlad hummed to himself then shook his head, one Danny of any sorts at a time. Two of them at once, Vlad was sure he would actually age past what he was physically.

“I would like to apologize, Vlad took hold of his drink and took a sip to clear his throat. Apologies were still rather new to him and even if he truly meant it, it almost pained him to get it out. “Both Daniel and I know you only want to help. You are a natural born hero and we know it. But you have to understand that we are not trying to stop you because we think you can’t handle it. We are stopping you because what happened while we were in the Ghost Zone was even out of our hands. The last thing either of us wants is for you to be hurt trying to save us. Danny already had to drag me back home.” Vlad mutters the last bit, still embarrassed how easily he was defeated.

Dani untense her shoulders and lets out a sigh as she avoids making eye contact with Vlad. She gets it, she does, but she hasn't fought any bad guys in a while. Danny has been going out still on patrols while she was stuck at home because ‘you have school tomorrow’ was the excuse thrown at her. Even when she went home with Vlad she was still off limits from patrolling. If she wasn’t allowed to fight any ghost then at the very least she wanted to do was transform and fly around.

“I just wanna do something,” Dani plopped her face in her hands and sadly played with her food. Vlad nodded and gave her a sweet smile.

“Well, I can think of something that you can help with.” He said.

“Oh yeah?”

“And you can do it while in your ghost form.” Dani shot off the table and sat up straight in her chair. Vlad shook his head pleased to see her excitement once again. “I have a banquet coming this Wednesday and I haven’t gotten anything ready. I will give you full control to not only pick out the decoration, but also the theme and the staff that will entertain the guest. If you just so happen to make it ghost related I wouldn’t mind you putting on a show.”

Dani smiled but rolled her eyes and fell back into her chair.

“You put me on hosting duties but I’m not complaining. I get to go ghost!” Dani shrugged and picked up her fork to finish her plate. Vlad was actually impressed that she didn’t complain more. Had he ever said that to Danny, the boy would have complained the whole way through learning how to tie a tie.

“I will handle the menu, of course, but you have to tell me everything you want by tomorrow so we can prepare.” Vlad held up a finger and wagged it back and forth.

“Yeah yeah I gotcha, one fancy dancy fun party for fancy dancy people. But add a little bit of spice.” Dani did a very bad British accent and Vlad blinked a couple of times. She held up her hand and told him not to worry about it. Vlad will never understand this new generation and he wasn’t really sure he wanted to. When Dani finished her plate he was about to call for the maids but Dani stopped him. “Don’t worry I got this.” Dani pulled back her chair and picked up her mess and started towards the kitchen. When she passed Vlad she gave him a small smile, “Thanks dad.”

Vlad would be lying if he said hearing her say that didn’t make his heart flutter. That was another tack on the board of good things Vlad has either done or heard. Vlad smiled and continued to sit at the table until he was done with his drink. When he looked towards the grandfather clock he realized it was rather late into the night. He still had work in the morning along with making sure Dani was ready to go when he was. With that he grabbed his glass and headed towards the kitchen to put it in the sink. Then he made his way towards the grand staircase to get to his room. He enjoyed the simplicity of being human sometimes, he took it for granted for 20 years so now being able to count the stairs up was fun. But Vlad also knew that being able to slip in and out of walls and floors was a childish thrill he would never let go.

He led her from the wagon park on the dirt trail down through the trees to a hidden garden path that led to a cottage. Along the path was a stream of water that gently passed them by as the couple made their way towards their new home. Tayonna pulled away from him as she watched the water sparkle in the faint rays of the sun. It had been so long since they’ve been back here, four long years filled with nothing but trouble after trouble. The water looked so calm, not a care in the world as it continued to flow along the rocks on an unknown adventure. She wanted that, so badly. Born into unfortunate situations and only blessed by the benefit of service. She should be grateful but it seemed like the world was not made for people like her- for none of her people. She didn’t budge when she felt thick fingers slip between hers, nor did she look towards him when he stood beside her.

“No one can find us here, it’s far enough from the town square and just far from any prying eyes. You are free to do as you please when you are here in my company.” Vladan took Tayonna’s hand in his and led her to the stream. The poor girl could tell he meant every word he promised her but something still haunted the depths of her mind. What they had together had changed dramatically from the time she was brought into the family to now. There was love, hidden scared fragile love that they both clung to in hope of forever.

“Here is home?” Tayonna asked as she reached down to dip her fingers in the cool water then used her powers to change its direction. The water started to rush upward towards the cottage before she lifted some of it into the air to swirl around them. Vladan smiled and pulled her in close and placed a kiss on her temple. The swirls of water broke apart in small drops and hung around them in crystals before dropping to the ground.

“And home is safe, I promise.” Vladan whispered to her, snaking a hand through her tight curls and pulling her in against his chest. They were safe, nothing bad could happen to them and he was sure of it. There was nothing left to take from him.

Vlad didn’t know what to make of this dream, but he was glad it wasn’t a nightmare nor a misleading sex dream. It was just bittersweet, as if he could tell the words that came out of his mouth- er the person he was in the dream’s voice was all a lie. Every time Vlad woke up from his dreams he couldn’t remember who he was supposed to be nor where he was. Everything played out like cloudy memories until Tayonna showed up. She always looked so unhappy and tensed like she also knew he was lying. Whenever they touched in these dreams, Vlad felt his heart flutter but always by the end it broke over and over again. He couldn’t even sit up in bed and simply rolled to his side to look out his window. He looked towards his bedside table and read the digital clock, it was 1am. He had only had the peace of slumber for two hours. As he stared out the window his mind drifted back towards the issues at hand.

From what Danny had told him about the ghost in the Ghost Zone, it seemed that Tayonna played on people’s emotions. ‘So she’s heartbroken?’ Vlad thought to himself then cringed at the thought of having to deal with another heartbroken ghost. What was it about the ladies in the ghost world all suffering from bad relationships? As if someone made it out to be that was the only thing they could truly suffer from. Vlad knew what heartbreak was, or rather what it could be when the one gets away from you. And yes he did spend a few years trying to win her over with shitty plots and tricks. But now he learned to let go, or in a way learning to do so, this was a cruel joke Clockwork placed him in. Tayonna would not be getting the upper hand on him.

When his position became uncomfortable he tossed himself onto his back once more. Staring up at the decorative ceiling Vlad found it hard to close his eyes. He was very tired but he wasn’t sure if he would be able to handle another dream. If he tried to think of something else to take his mind off the dreams it would find its way back around. Vlad ran a hand through his hair and pulled the dark patch in front of his eyes. He still couldn’t believe this, he was glad Danny and Dani hadn’t brought it up when he was standing in front of them. He had caught them looking since he woke from his small coma but they never asked. He sighed in a tired defeat and pushed his hair back behind him. He wanted to sleep and he would be damned if some ghost girl would be the reason he became an insomniac again. Vlad closed his eyes and tried to will his mind to nothingness so he could get comfortable. Within a few minutes he did start to feel himself slipping away, even when a cold hand caressed his cheek and tucked his hair behind his ear, he was completely drifting away.

The next morning Vlad for once in the past few months felt completely energized. When he opened his eyes he felt his power fire to life and felt like he could take on the world. He even had a little pep in his step as he hummed through getting ready and heading downstairs. Dani noticed his good mood as soon as he stepped into the kitchen. He hadn’t done any of this since he secretly bankrupt a competing company in California completely halting silicon valley.

“What’s got you all uppity?” Dani asked with a mouth full of cereal trying to shove as much as possible before being shooed out the door. Vlad stopped in his tracks halfway through making coffee and knotted his brows then shrugged.

“I finally got a good night's rest, I suppose it put me in a good mood.” He hummed and continued his task.

“Well that's cool, also I have an idea for your thing tomorrow.” Dani pulled out her phone and swiped through it before opening her notes. “Four seasons, since it’s almost summer I think summer should be the main event while other parts of the party make up the other seasons. We could get some ghosts to dress up and be the spirits of the seasons and impress people with “magic tricks” .” Dani was proud of her idea, she had even drawn out costumes and shown Vlad.

“When did you have time to draw up all of these?” Vlad silently asked her for her phone and when she handed it over he flipped through the notes and the designs. They weren’t masterpieces but he could envision her idea.

“Last night before bed, duh, but I figured out almost everything for each season. I'll be handling winter of course, but I couldn’t come up with anything for autumn because of the storm last night.” Vlad handed Dani her phone back and gave her a questionable look.

“What storm?” Vlad asked, taking a sip of his now cooling coffee. Rats. He wouldn’t have time to make another one, so he shrugged and used his powers to heat it up. They are there for a reason.

“You didn’t hear it? It was like so bad, I almost thought my window was gonna cave in from the winds. Eventually, it calmed down a bit and I went to sleep. You must have slept through it.” Vlad was sure that if there was a storm he would have heard it. Especially since he was woken up just a bit past midnight. Even when he looked out his window he didn’t see any traces of raindrops. Before Vlad could ask her more about the storm his phone sounded telling him it was time to go. With that he clapped his hands to gather Dani’s attention and told her to grab her stuff. He silenced his phone and stuck it in his pocket then transferred his coffee to his travel cup.

“Ugh I can’t wait till school is out.” Dani huffed and headed out the door heading towards the car.

“Two and half more weeks and you’re a free little woman. But until then get in the car so neither of us are late.” Vlad shut the door and locked it and headed towards the driver's seat.

“Are you dragging us back to Wisconsin this summer? I kinda wanna stay here.” Dani rubbed her neck and Vlad secretly cursed Danny for giving her bad habits.

“I planned on at least staying there a week or so, but if you wish to stay in Minnesota that’s fine. Or I can compromise with you by staying with the Fentons’ while I’m gone.” Vlad felt proud of himself, he was on a roll of giving himself dad points. This unironically must be what Jack feels like. Wow… he didn’t want to compare himself to Jack at all.

“Deal.” Dani beamed and threw in her headphones for the rather lengthy car ride.

#📖Ghost Stories👻#vlad masters #Danny Phantom #my writing #self ship community #dp fanfic

3 notes · View notes

jimlingss · 6 years ago

Text

Jungle Park [22]

Chapter 21 - Chapter 22 - Chapter 23

➜ Words: 5.6k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Light Humour (?), Slice of Life, Workplace Romance!AU

➜ Summary: The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah...once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.

Rarely do cases go on trial. Unlike most lawyer-related and crime television shows, family law has much less action than criminal or civil law. The most exciting things that happen are arguments that break out during mediation or reading case files and seeing all the things that transpired. Divorce can get ugly, that’s for sure. But while you rarely get to see Hoseok in a court setting duking it out with his opponent, there’s still a lot of times when you get to see his passionate side. Like now. “God, have you tried this pineapple juice?! How did they even get this into a coconut. It’s spectacular! You have to try this!” Okay, to be fair he wasn’t being passionate about his work right now, but it’s still cute and endearing. And you might just be a little whipped for this nerd. “Isn’t this supposed to be a business trip?” You have your elbow propped up on the counter of the bar, cheek in your hand as you stare out at the ocean that reflects the afternoon sunlight, blinding your vision. “It is.” “Then why are we on the beach drinking pineapple juice?” “Why not?” Hoseok smiles, all too casual in sunglasses, taupe cargo shorts and a loose flannel that screams he’s a tourist. No one would ever expect he’s a hot shot lawyer in this get-up. “Didn’t you tell me to loosen up and that it’s not always about work?” “Yeah, but this just doesn’t feel like a business trip…..at all.” “The trial finished early.” Jung Hoseok sips on his coconut, looking both cocky and comical at the same time. It was definitely a bizarre sight to behold. “I can’t tell you the details because of confidentiality, but the opponent may or may not have accepted our terms and now the father may or may not have his kids during weekends and thankfully those kids don’t or do have to be taken by the government.” The beaming sun pierces in your eyes too painfully and you look away. “...you know, Jung.” “Yes?” “I’m kind of impressed you managed to bring me here since I literally have nothing to do with your trial.” The only people that were here was Taehyung, Seokjin, Naul, and then the two of you. It’s miraculous that the lawyer snagged you, an HR manager, to be here with him. Hoseok merely shrugs. “I may or may not have a way with words.” “I’m starting to feel like your sugar baby.” The man’s mouth pulls into a smirk. He winks and leans closer until your knees and shoulders are bumping each other’s. “How much would I have to pay to spend a night with you, sweetheart?” “Double my salary and we’ll talk,” you whisper back to him in a low voice, starting to like the sound of this. His arrogant act almost crumbles into a fit of laughter, but he manages to keep it up. “How about I make this trip all-inclusive and you get free meals and you can spend two days in a hotel suite with me?” You’re the first to break, laughing and pushing him away before the bartender walks past and really thinks there’s some kind of wild arrangement going on. “How can the firm afford this many trips?” “I’m loaded, y’know.” Hoseok is being overly flirtatious and greasy — maybe the heat’s getting to him. But you hate that it’s actually working and that he knows it too. “In my wallet and in my pants.” “Oh my god.” You snort. “You’re ridiculous.” “Does that make me more appealing to you?” “Would you really want me to be a gold digger?” “You could be whatever you want and I still wouldn’t mind.” Hoseok openly ogles at your lips and your face hurts from your widening grin. “What happened to being professional?” He moves away on his own accord, laughing and throwing his arm over the back of your chair, returning to sipping on his coconut through the straw. “We stopped being professional the moment we both agreed to this. The attempt is still nice though.” Your brow is lifted and you quip, “Agree to what?” “You being my girlfriend and me being your boyfriend.” “Hold up, hold up. I never agreed to that,” you point out, bringing this conversation to a halt. “I agreed to us dating.” “And isn’t dating being boyfriend and girlfriend.” “You make it sound so juvenile, like we’re high schoolers.” “We’re still young, babe.” “Yeah?” You play into his greasy act, smiling and staring at him like you’re being seduced by a stranger at a bar in the middle of your vacation. But then you deadpan, “Tell that to your declining eyesight.” “Hey.” Hoseok sulks. “My eyesight is still good. At least I’m not blind like Namjoon.” “Didn’t you tell me your back was hurting last week?” You reach over, stealing a sip of his drink. It’s indeed strange to be having pineapple juice from a coconut, but it’s very refreshing and makes you feel rejuvenated. “That was because you blew out my back.” You nearly spit out your mouthful. It ends up sliding down your throat into the wrong pipe while you do a double take, and you end up in a wheezing and coughing fit. Hoseok’s entertained watching you die, ignoring the old couple a few seats away who was eavesdropping and are now mortified. When you manage to see the light again, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, barely containing yourself. “Why are you like this?!” “Why do I like you so much?” Hoseok grins, spinning around in the bar stool like a child with too much sugar. “Good question, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re too cute, too pretty, and too fun to tease.” You slump into a pout. “You’re mean.” “I know.” Still, Hoseok leans over and plants a kiss right on your cheek. // The three others decided to go on a sightseeing tour, a package offered by the hotel at a discount. But you and Hoseok opted out. He simply brushed it off by saying he wanted to finish something up and you said you just weren’t feeling up to it. In reality, you both ended up walking by the beach instead, having a little date on your own. You felt guilty for lying to them, but Hoseok made it all worth it. “Hey.” He smiles, approaching them in the lobby, running into the group by coincidence. “How was it?” “A lot of fun!” Taehyung already appears tanner, skin radiating with a healthy glow. “I got this hat, like it?” “It’s nice.” You nod, admiring the round straw hat. “Glad you got out and saw some sun too, Jung,” Naul notes in approval. “We thought you’d be cooped up all day working.” “Nah. Y/N and I went to grab some of those fruity drinks the front desk were raving about earlier,” he stretches the truth without batting an eyelash. “It was pretty good. You guys should try some. And I finished all my work earlier, so I’m free for the rest of the day.” “Are you guys doing anything now?” you ask them. “Do you want to eat somewhere later?” “Actually…” Jin clears his throat, arms behind his back and revealing what he’s been hiding. They’re two slips that look like movie tickets, but they’re bright blue like the ocean. The paralegal tries to play it off nonchalantly as he sweeps his fingers through his hair. “I might've won two vouchers for a spa day earlier.” Taehyung laughs and lifts his hands straight into the air, extending his arms above his head. “And he’s taking me! We also won tickets to watch a show tonight too!” Hoseok’s impressed and he takes a look at the tickets. “Wow. You guys are lucky, huh?” “Sorry.” Taehyung leans on him, smushed cheek on his shoulder and grinning mischievously. “Jin already promised to take me, boss. You can come too, but you’ll have to pay yourself.” “It’s okay.” He hands them back. “I’m going to my hotel room to rest,” Naul says, telling them about her plans. “I’m exhausted.” “She fell asleep on the bus.” Jin hitches his thumb to the woman, appallment evident in his low timbre. “Didn’t enjoy the last half of the journey.” “I’m old, I know.” She pats him on the back. “You don’t have to keep saying it.” You nod. “Looks like you all have plans then.” “Yup.” Taehyung shifts slightly, brown irises shining in his rounded eyes. “Did you want to do something with us?” “No, it’s okay. We always have tomorrow morning. Hoseok and I might head out again after freshening up and using the washroom. There’s still a lot to see, so don’t worry about us and enjoy your spa trip.” “Sounds like a plan.” Jin smiles. “Our appointment is starting soon.” “Same with mine.” Naul already has her hotel card in her hand, envisioning the bubble bath and raiding the minibar for a nice drink. In the meanwhile, no one notices the way you exchange expressions with Hoseok. You’re satisfied either way as long as you’re with him. // The diner is small with few patronages. The fryer is heard sizzling from the kitchen, bell chiming every time the front door opens, and an old lady serves you with a smile, yelling at the cooks from where she stands. It’s a cozy atmosphere, a place you would imagine existing in a smaller town. “Did Sunyi and Yoongi end up signing that form?” Hoseok cuts into his strawberry waffles with his knife, piercing it with his utensil and dipping it in the sweet syrup. “They signed it.” You slice your own fluffy pancakes, holding it out and he eats it off your fork. “But apparently it’s complicated and they’re in the process of figuring it out.” He hums, brows raising and sending an approval look at the taste. “I’m shocked that they’re...together.” “You can never be as shocked as I am,” you snicker and he cuts his waffles again, feeding you. You stuff it in your cheek, sweetness exploding on your tongue, voice muffled as you chew, “but Sunyi complained about Yoongi every single day. I would’ve never guessed they were involved with each other like that.” He agrees, exasperated at the thought. “And for two years?” “Shh…” You giggle, ducking your head. “Keep your voice down.” The corner of his lip tugs. “No one’s here.” “Okay, yeah, but Yoongi never exposed us so we shouldn’t expose him either. Ah.” You open your mouth, twirling your fork in front of his own, this time feeding him and returning the favour. Eventually, you’re both walking outside again. The breeze is cool, kissing against your warm cheeks, carding through the strands of his black hair. You’re both holding hands, fingers laced together, arms swinging back and forth, and making you laugh. “Do you think they’re a good match?” you ask in curiosity. “You’ve known them for so long...” “To be frank...I do. Yoongi’s similar to me, but he’s only passionate about selective things. I haven’t seen him so happy to tease someone before in my life. They’re cute together,” Hoseok muses. “And what about us?” You glance at him, blatantly fishing for compliments and being shameless about it. “Do you think we’re cute together?” “We’re the cutest obviously because you’re the cutest.” He boops your nose, making a high-pitched sound and you giggle, shoulders tense and cringing at his gestures. But much to your dismay, Hoseok adds on, “also, I’m the cutest.” He puckers his lips, quirking his head to the side. “Uh-huh. So cute it’s nauseating.” The fountain show begins and you momentarily stop to watch. The water spritz up into waving streams, glittering with the multicoloured lights flashing from below. It creates a mist in the air, following with the rhythm of the music playing from the stereo. There are children gathered around with their parents, big eyes amazed at the show, friends and other couples around too. “Are you cold?” “Only a little bit,” you murmur. Jung Hoseok gets closer to you. He bends his knees until his head is propped on your shoulder, arms coming to wrap around your frame before clasping his hands together. The man leans against you, giving you a side-hug, affectionate in his movements and you melt into his body heat. It’s comforting and calming, the same words you would use to describe his existence to you. “Are you ever bothered by it?” “By what?” he asks, matching your tender tone. You don’t notice that instead of looking at the water show, he’s staring at you softly. Your features are illuminated by the faint lights and it’s so pretty, Hoseok can’t keep his eyes away. “That you don’t remember?” “No...not anymore. Why? Are you bothered?” “No. I’d be more bothered if you were bothered.” He grins, slight dimples marking into each cheek. “Sometimes I feel guilty that I don’t remember, but then I look over and you’re here. We have the rest of our future together, right?” A slight noncommittal noise is made in the back of your throat, and you finally look at him, smiling. It sounds exactly like something he would say. “To be honest, it doesn’t feel all that different. You’re not that different from how you used to be.” “And how was I?” he asks while you walk away from the ice-cream parlor, mind still lingering on the topic. Hoseok’s eyes are pinned on your mouth and he motions for you to open. When you part your lips, he feeds you a spoonful of his chocolate ice-cream. “Bright, energetic, outgoing…..annoyingly obnoxious.” “Me?!” He gasps, wholly offended. “Annoyingly obnoxious?!” You laugh, holding your hand out to placate him. The man is still not satisfied until he leans down and chops on part of your vanilla ice-cream cone. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” “You’re beginning to sound like my sister.” Hoseok pouts, eating his own cold treat in his cup, scooping it up and eating with his mouth cutely downturned. “Are you talking to her these days?” “No. I should though. How is she?” “Fine. As usual. I don’t know what she’s doing these days aside from causing trouble. But speaking of which, I think my parents want you to visit soon. They keep asking me about you.” “Have they found out about us?” “No. They haven’t.” Your shoulder bumps into his and you smile. “Then...should we tell them?” Hoseok matches your smile, eyes slightly crinkled. “If you want to.” After discarding the cup, spoon, and napkins, you both wash your hands. When you leave, he’s waiting outside the washroom for you, staring up at the night sky. But when you appear in his peripheral vision again, he eases and his warm eyes are all too inviting. “We should tell them,” you decide. “It’s not good to keep your parents in the dark. I’m sure they would be happy anyways.” “Okay.” He grins. “I’m just worried they’re going to cast me aside for you again.” “Well it’s understandable. They’ve always loved me. Don’t you know how charming I am?” Laughter bubbles from his throat. He never once disagrees and reaches down to hold your hand again, walking off with no destination in mind. “How does the weekend sound or is that too soon?” “I’m fine either way. I miss Mickey too.” You turn your head, hesitating for a mere second before you decide to tell him, “you know...he used to be our dog.” “What? Really?” “Yeah, but we gave him to your parents before we moved and you went to law school.” It’s quiet for a moment, Hoseok deep in thought. You wonder if it was a mistake bringing up the past that he doesn’t remember, if somehow he’ll end up feeling guilty for forgetting again even if it’s not his fault. But then— “Maybe we should take him back.” “No.” You smile, poking his shoulder. “I’d feel bad for your parents. We can’t just take him back. Plus, he seems pretty happy living with them.” “That’s true. But it’s no wonder he ran and jumped on top of you.” You nod, looking over the horizon. The dim light of the stars appear ever so slightly, all spilling across the black sky if you stare for long enough and allow your eyes to adjust. Beside you, Hoseok slows down his pace, admiring them as well. “I think we should visit my mom too. She might not say it, but I know she’s been lonely these days.” “Should we invite her to come with us this weekend then?” he suggests. “Didn’t you say my mom and your mom were friends?” “Yeah…” You smile, happy that he remembers and is considerate enough to come up with the idea. “She’d like that.” The pair of you continue on your stroll until he comes to a stop. Hoseok squats down on the side of the road and then he picks up a flower and jumps back up again. He holds the small daisy up. “Look! It’s me!” You’re not impressed. “It’s you?” “It’s me! See?” he happily announces, showing it to you. The delicate flower has white petals, and a bright yellow center that reminds you of the colour of the sun. It’s cute and you melt into a sheepish smile, about to agree just to placate him. But then Hoseok’s eyes flicker up and he gently tucks the flower behind your ear, right by your hair. “Wow...now there are two flowers side by side.” “Oh my god,” you groan, pulling away and cringing while he laughs boisterously, quickening his pace to catch up to you. “Why? Am I wrong?” “You’re too cheesy. It’s giving me cavities.” “But you like it!” “Be thankful I like you because I wouldn’t be able to do this for anyone else.” “What do you mean?” Yet, as dumb and cute as Hoseok likes to act, you hate that he’s right. He could probably beg you to shave your head (and not like you would give in since you’re not a spineless idiot), but he’d get away with it. He could throw you into a flash mob right now, make you dance, and at the end of the day, you’d still be with this fool. And that’s why you’re watching him fiddle with this baby blue bike that he’s just rented, like watching a two-year old about to cause chaos and doing nothing to stop it. It’s just too endearing to watch him this excited and upbeat. “C’mon, get on, Y/N!” You look at the tiny rear passenger seat, sighing before getting on. “Do you even know how to ride a bike?” “Course, I do! Learnt when I was five,” he boasts like it’s so impressive, having no clue just how hard it was going to be to pedal when there are two people on. But Jung Hoseok manages. It feels like you’re in your youth again, jumping on the bike of some neighborhood boy and being taken for a ride. It’s like you’ve returned back to high school, a period before you even knew of his existence, when you were still young and naive and you didn’t know what you wanted to do. A part of you wishes you met him during that time. The two of you probably would’ve never been high school sweethearts though. You did your own thing back then and he would’ve been that outgoing kid that was all too noisy — the biggest interaction you both would’ve had is you sending a glare across the room. You quietly laugh at the thought of it. “Y/N, let’s play a game.” You hear him above the cool breeze whipping through your hair. Your arms are wrapped around his waist, head pressed against his firm backside, but you lift yourself up to make sure he hears your response. “If your game is leaving me on the side of the road, I’m going to push you off the bike right now to save myself.” A soothing laugh tinkers into the crisp air. “No, why would I do that?” Hoseok inhales a breath. It’s an empty bike path, no one ahead or behind you at this time of night. The wide ocean is to your left, waters black but illuminated by city lights and reflecting the tall buildings and cityline. “Let’s play a game. Let’s pretend…..this is twelve years ago. But the difference is that I never left you and I never got into that accident.” “Twelve years ago….?” “Ready? Let’s start.” He slows his pedaling, sitting tall while your hands are still holding onto his waist, eyes pinned to the magnificent view. “We were in the same class together twelve years ago. How old were we again?” “Twenty-one.” “Wow, we’re old now, aren’t we?” “You’re the old one, not me.” The corners of your lips raise meekly, shoulders slightly loosening from their tension. “It was a finance class, right? You sat next to me?” “We sat next to each other every day.” “Then how was your first impression of me?” he asks with a tinkering laugh, sounding all too joyful and curious, mixing with the clinking sound of the metal chains when he stops pedaling and uses the built momentum to push you both forward. “To be honest….I didn’t think anything of you.” “What?! Was it not love at first sight?” “No,” you manage through a fit of giggles. “You were just another face in the class of three hundred.” “Unbelievable. Because I know for a fact that I would’ve taken one look at you and fallen head over heels.” “Oh, yeah right!” You hit his shoulder lightly and the bike teeters from side to side, causing more giggles to ensue. “I would!” Hoseok defends. “I would’ve taken one glance at you and I would be breathless. My entire world would stop. It was probably the most romantic thing in the universe, just like all the movies. We’d beat Romeo and Juliet.” Hoseok continues with a grin, listening to your laugh behind him, “And here on your side, you thought nothing of me! I’m offended!” “You’re so full of shit!” The lawyer lets out half a scoff and the other half is a laugh. You’re scared he might stop steering and you’ll both fall over, so you hug him tighter, listening to the sound of his melodic voice. You savour his warmth, his smooth timbre, lulled by the lights sparkling from the shops, a mosaic of hues fading together like watercolour paints. “Who was the one who spoke first?” “You did.” “See? If I was the one who talked to you first, then it means I was probably already in love!” “I think you asked me for the previous class’ notes cause you missed it.” “It was a tactic, a tactic!” he tries to convince you. Eventually, the two of you get off the bike and he walks it beside him, enjoying the stroll even if you’re a bit lost and not sure where the hotel is anymore. There’s still a slight bustle on the other side of the street, a few on the shore and enjoying games. It’s an atmosphere worthy to get lost in. “—and after I bailed on meeting you at the library, you sent me a huge angry text message. I had to scroll through the entire thing, that’s how long it was. I was so scared.” You continue to recall the memories, one after another spilling from your lips, pouring all out without restraint. And Hoseok listens, providing his own commentary and thoughts, humming along. “It’s part of the push and pull tactic. You gotta show them your cold side and then your warm side. Jimin taught me.” “You didn’t even know Jimin then!” Your cheeks ache, lips upturned and unable to be put down. “He sent me a telepathic message from the future,” he says to you so confidently. You tell him about the time you ran into him at the library, the time you didn’t end up meeting him to work on the project, the time he held your hand and you were so surprised that you thought it was an accident, the first date, the first time he kissed you. You end up recalling each and every one of these memories — memories that you thought were a burden….but they aren’t. They feel like fun stories, tales that you remember were never sad in the moment until you made them that way. You recount each of them to him, some fuzzier than others and when you can’t recall the details, he fills in the blanks with his own silly thoughts, like how he wasn’t mad at you or that he probably wanted to kiss you a hundred times more. You talk about history and he talks about the future. “And then when we were twenty-five…” An inhale is stolen through your lungs and when you look at him, he already knows and squeezes your hands comfortingly. “That was the year we got engaged with each other.” He leans in with a soft smile, affectionately brushing his forehead against yours before pulling away. “Thankfully, it was just a pregnancy scare because I’m sure neither of us were ready for kids yet.” You snicker, agreeing. “Yeah.” “You were pretty stressed about planning the wedding and I was too, but it got a lot better when we handed it off to both our moms who took a hold of it,” Hoseok’s ranting and you listen to every syllable of his story, believing this fantasy as reality. His side of the story that you never knew, he fills in with whatever he wishes. The gray areas become coloured, no longer a mystery held over your own head. “Of course, they would’ve taken too much control, but we were able to pick out the little things, like the colour schemes and the kinds of flowers we wanted.” “Daisies.” “A bunch of me’s.” A rush of air comes out of your nose, too tired to laugh, but finding it still funny. “Yellow and violet colour scheme.” “I like that,” he notes in approval before moving on. “And then when we finally got married, it would be such a relief that it was all over. Not that you were turning into bridezilla or anything….but you were kind of turning into bridezilla.” “Well, of course, I want our wedding to be perfect.” “I’m just happy that we’re getting married.” Suddenly, he stops. Hoseok halts his footsteps and turns you to face him. He swallows hard, eyes locked into your irises before flickering down to your mouth. He leans down and in, tilting his head timidly and planting a kiss on your lips. It’s soft and hesitant, feather-light. It’s as if you were standing at the aisle, under the arch with people watching, sealing the union and promise of forever with a kiss. When he pulls away, a smile is on his face, watching as your eyes flutter open so slightly and you stare up at him through your lashes. You’re so beautiful, he feels an urge to kiss you again. But Hoseok represses it, pulling you along, walking and listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the sandy shore. “Our honeymoon was a nightmare.” “How so?” Something blooms in your chest, butterflies tickling your stomach and you curl your fingers around his tighter, feeling him squeeze back in response. “We got stuck at the airport overnight because our flight got delayed, but thank god we made it.” “And where were we?” Hoseok sings a low note, considering all the places in the world before settling on one destination as he returns the rental bike. “Somewhere in French Polynesia.”’ “Fancy.” “You deserve the best.” He flashes a grin and a wink. “We’d spend a lot of time by the beach.” “Like right now?” “Like right now,” he confirms. “We’d take a helicopter ride around the island and go to a vanilla bean farm and pick fresh vanilla beans for my dad and your mom. You’d probably tell me I’m picking up too many seashells after it takes up three quarters of our luggage. But also, let’s be honest here, we wouldn’t leave our little, private overwater bungalow that often.” The mischief twinkling in his orbs only makes you give him a knowing look. “Why not?” “Well, until we break the bed and we have to call the front desk, I’m not sure I would ever want you to leave.” You expected nothing less from the man but the thought of getting maintenance and having to switch rooms because of a broken mattress makes you slightly embarrassed. While strolling together, you lean against him. Jung Hoseok is detailed, carefully describing year after year, filling in the missing time of your lives. And it sounds all too nice. “—even though Jung and Park would’ve been running for three years, Jimin wouldn’t mind us taking time off together.” “Are you sure he can handle running the office without his partner and without his HR rep?” “He can handle it and if anything, you could hire a few more people before we take the break. Didn’t you say you wanted to run an entire HR empire and be their ruler?” “I never said that.” You scoff, lightly smacking his chest. “I only wanted an assistant.” “Sure, have your little, hot, young assistant.” The way he jokingly emphasizes each word makes it sound sexual and you don’t know if you want to smack him again or if you want to laugh. “But let me tell you, I won’t be jealous.” “Why? Wouldn’t you have gotten bored of me and found me stale after being married for so long?” “Course not!” Hoseok jumps up, blinking his big eyes, and being playful all at once. “I’m just saying I wouldn’t be threatened since you’re mine. And I’d never be bored of us. Every time I’d look at you, I’d be blown away.” “That sounds exhausting,” you consider it realistically. “You’d be blown away constantly.” He laughs. “But you being pregnant would make me even more blown away!” “Wait. How many kids are you even planning? We still haven’t had this talk and we already have a kid on the way! And we’re still paying mortgage on the new house! Shouldn’t we be more responsible?” “Okay, okay. Five.” “Five?! Are you out of your mind?!” You’re almost screeching, for once being as loud as he naturally is. “You’re going to have to put insurance on my uterus!” Hoseok grins, hugging your side again. “How many kids do you want?” “Three. Or actually two seems like a good number.” “One girl, one boy?” “If it’s possible.” You nod, finding it the right number for a picture perfect family. “How about three girls?” Hoseok muses. “You don’t want any boys?” “I’d like it if they were like you,” he says. “Three little angels with mommy’s personality and daddy’s beautiful looks. What do you think?” Even if you’re joking around, you send an accusatory expression his way. “You wouldn’t want them to look like me?” “Well, if they’re too much like you, my heart might just explode with love. But I’d love them regardless, so looks like I’m getting a heart attack either way.” He dramatically shuts his eyes, placing a hand over his chest like he’s about to go into cardiac arrest. You keep walking ahead, mumbling about how ridiculous he is, but your smile is unmistakable. At the end of the lovely night, you both manage to make your way back to the hotel, tired and sleepy. Neither Taehyung, Naul, or Seokjin are around to notice how you sneak into Hoseok’s room. It feels like you’re breaking the rules or back when you sneak into each other’s houses during spring break without either of your parents knowing. You slip off your shoes, exhausted after spending the entire day outside, and you collapse on the plush bed side-by-side with Hoseok as he finishes writing up the future. “—and then at one hundred years old, we would die together, just like this.” “Like this?” You turn and he does too, both facing each other in the peacefulness of the room. “Together. Peacefully sleeping in bed….or like that old couple in the titanic.” You prop yourself up onto one elbow, eyeing him. “Isn’t this too morbid?” “Is it?” The corner of his mouth lifts and spreads into a grin. Hoseok opens his arms and rolls right on top of you. You’re stuck in your spot and he laughs, tickling your sides slightly until you wheeze and beg for mercy. Then he calms down, nuzzling against you like some kind of cuddle bug. “I mean, we’d be reborn and we could do it all over again.” “Are you sure you want to spend lifetime after lifetime with me?” You stare into his eyes, murmuring from your slightly parted lips, caught off guard with what a hopeless romantic he is. The man lifts his arms and holds your cheek in his palms, legs on either side of you. He leans down, pecking your lips once gently, finding no need to deepen the kiss and seek something different. “It would be my absolute pleasure, Y/N.” You melt into a sheepish smile and after another extended moment of silence, of feeling his body pressed against yours, his scent surrounding your frame, you muse, “It sounds nice.” “Which part?” “All of it.” “I’m glad.” Hoseok finally lays down, slightly crushing you, but he places his ear over chest, right where your heartbeat is. He shuts his eyes and listens. “It’s my goal to make you happy.” You wrap your arms around his head, holding him close, becoming more and more sleepy. “I’m very happy, Jung Hoseok.” And you mean it. You’re happy that he’s here. Happy that he’s in your life again. Happy that you’re both slowly, but surely going to make all these dreams and fantasies into reality.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fluff #hoseok scenario #UGH this fluff #get it out outta here

524 notes · View notes

lgcnickie · 5 years ago

Text

hi everyone i’ll get to your welcome messages in just a minute but let me get this intro post up first!

first of all i joined lgc once before but it was only for a hot minute with a muse no one probably remembers, so it’s irrelevant.. but anyways i have twitter and discord but i’m probably best at plotting in tumblr ims even if it takes me a hot minute to reply most of the time... it just be like that sometimes...

but let me introduce nickie! i’ll put some quick facts and plot/relationship ideas under the cut and i hope to start getting her involved here soon!

content warning for some of this: it mentions abandonment, bullying, and body/appearance/weight issues!

we have no idea what her mother originally named her bc she was dropped off in a baby box at a church as an infant, abandoned. thankfully, not too long later, she was approved for an international adoption and was given to a very loving (albeit white) couple in maine, usa. they named her nicole elizabeth pruitt.

she grew up in a town that’s literally 96% white and was the subject of a lot of torment and bullying based on her appearance in school. her parents never really fully understood it even if they spent a lot of time comforting her...

the first time she was called Pretty was when she was on a trip w friends to nyc and very coincidentally met a lgc casting agent. she auditioned on a whim, probably enticed by the idea of being among a group of people who looked like her and might better relate to her struggles, and somehow got the offer to become a trainee.

she took the offer which caused a major falling out with her parents. they felt abandoned and betrayed by her wanting to return to the country she was born in, that they said abandoned her. she wanted to go and see if korea felt more like home than maine did. they did not part on good terms and her first several months in korea were quite miserable because of it. she still suffers from homesickness from time to time.

nickie is a nickname she took up on a whim in high school when she was desperate not to be so ignored and alone. since coming to korea, she’s chosen the name “park nabit” for herself since she doesn’t know what korean name she had been given as a baby. these days, she mostly goes by nickie park.

she still really struggles with appearance issues, some of them now manifested into weight/body related issues. she’s still pretty convinced she’s ugly, but she’s starting to learn to appreciate features she was bullied for in the united states.

her korean is also pretty bad. she only started learning it when she joined the legacy team in january 2017 and has been a pretty slow learner. she’s quite shy, so practicing the language is very intimidating to her. she doesn’t speak much since her accent is bad (she’s probably been teased for that once or twice and that was enough for her to lose confidence), but she understands more than you’d think. writing and reading are easier for her than speaking, but still not so great.

she’s not quite sure where she fits in or what she’s doing as a performer in lgc, but she’d rather be part of a team than solo. ultimately, she wants to feel like she belongs to something or somewhere.

some plot/relationship ideas!!

the friend who helped her come up with her korean name shortly after she joined the company. would probably be a best friend plot, someone she really trusts and stays close to since they were kind to her right off the bat.

any muse who speaks english she’ll be more likely to befriend. she still avoids speaking korean if she can which makes it difficult to make friends with people who only speak that language.

along that note, someone who pushes her to speak korean anyways. she’ll need a friendly, encouraging mentor here. she’s quite nervous and shy even after being here for three and a half years, so have some patience with her!

also along similar lines as the other bullet point, other korean-american muses who might have similar experiences as her as far as going to predominately white schools, growing up in communities where they didn’t quite fit in, etc.... bonding points

she’s a very hard worker and sometimes needs to be reminded to take care of herself. a friend or mentor who makes her hang up the sneakers at the end of the day, makes sure she eats a full meal, and gets some sleep before she repeats it all again tomorrow...

i am Always down for some rivals plots..... pushing each other to do better, be better than the other....

also i’m not afraid of my muse being bullied some more if there’s anyone out there who’s not afraid of their muse being a bully. nickie doesn’t exactly deserve it, but i really love writing conflict.

i’ll add more as i think of them but that’s it for now!!

#.ooc

6 notes · View notes

tarot28 · 4 years ago

Text

MANIFESTATION, GOALS, INTENTIONS AND GRATITUDE AND MOREEEEEE

This is my guide to how I do my daily self work to bring some joy and happiness and better things closer to me. Everything I do listed below is written down in the same place - a generic leftover half used spiral notebook next to my bed.

I have a little anxiety and uncertainty and a little moop (a word for when you’ve got sad mood that’s kinda blah but it doesn’t have as quite of a severe connotation as depression does imo) when it comes thinking about the future. To get super real for a second here, it can be so so bleak sometime to look ahead and look at where I am now and where I could be like if only if only. Coming out of an unhealthy and toxic relationship and being on the mend from that also has me looking for ways of actively reviving my worth and my joy and I’m glad to report that what I’ve outline below has helped me personally and by sharing, I hope I can help others :) :)

Also just as a note: I use the Universe instead of God, Goddess, Spirit, etc bc that’s my preference. Mentally sub that for whatever works for you <3

Contents: sorry this is a hella long post but here’s the break down - Manifestation (what I used to do) - Goals (what I do/how I altered manifestation to make it work for me) - Intentions (goals are long term, but here’s the daily) - Gratitude (how it puts things into perspective) - Meditation (an on and off again relationship/the one that always gets away) - How the fuck do I fit all this into my daily routine ?

Manifestation: So when I first started this routine I used kinda generic manifestation and threw literally everything I wanted at the Universe like here this is what I want and it’s your problem now. That’s the idea I got from the very minimal reading I did on manifestation and law of attraction type shtuff. I reallllllly hesitate to call what I currently do manifestation but it’s like a cousin and is closer to setting goals. I’m not going to go into manifestation further but the “manifestation work” I do is like everything written here collectively.

Goals: This is the branching out I did for manifestation. It’s more accessible language too. A goal is something I want and it’s something attainable. Transitioning from manifestation to goals was kinda necessary to me because when I was doing manifestation was me throwing every tiny little want and need at the Universe. Goals was that but with filters and then elaboration. I went from asking for like 8 or 10 things that would change often to asking for 3 consistently.

Here’s a working example. One of my old “manifestation” items was “a sense of confidence in my body.” Let’s pull this apart a bit. This isn’t a bad thing to ask for at all; it’s definitely something that can happen. But like does the Universe really need to bestow that onto me or is that something I could do on my own. It’s too specific and exclusive as well. The perception of my own physical health comes from my personal relationship with myself, mentally and emotionally. My body confidence won’t change unless I work at how I talk to myself or unless I start to praise my own appearance.

I use a different, but related version of this older item currently in my goal statements that aims to “improve the relationship I have with myself for myself through positive self talk, self care, and recognizing the joy that comes through exploring my relationship with myself.” This is longer, but it’s bigger picture. It encompasses mental, physical, and emotional health. It also emphasizes my part in it, which was the biggest issue I had with what I was calling “manifestation.” I think it’s ok to ask for things, but personally asking and waiting passively for something to drop into your lap just on the merits of asking for it felt unrealistic. I think my biggest personal distinction between goals and manifestation was introducing accountability, thus empowering myself to make the changes in my life that I wanted to see.

Intentions In addition to writing my goal statements, I write my intentions. The goals are more specific to the season or a couple month to a year long period, whereas the intentions are a couple of ways I want my day to go. Again, this is kinda me empowering myself to take action and decide how my day will unfold. It’s just a couple of brief statements about things I want to happen, but less of a tangible to do list and more like what’s the vibe today boysss

So for example on a to do list I had this week: chem for mon, wed, fri, bio lecture notes from thursday, final revisions on whatever weekly essay it was lmao rip, and then a couple emails. This was a to do list from Monday and I have work and class and meetings and bathroom break and have to take care of the dogs and make food and eat the food and drink water and maybe squeeze in a workout from 9am to 3:30pm on top of the to do list, which is usually just classwork. My intention for the day was to “be productive enough to prepare for tomorrow.” This is a way to say do the bare minimum and feel better about it. Another intention I had was to “recognize and when I need a break and give myself the rest time I need to be productive.” Another way of justifying slacking off occaisionally but giving it an elevated purpose through the wording. It also makes me feel like shameful about not getting everything I planned to do in one day because I carried out my intentions.

Gratitude! This is my absolute favorite part of my routine! It brings everything home for me and I can really draw attention to all the mundane disguised positivity in my life that might go unnoticed or underappreciated otherwise. This one is so simple. I start by writing “I’m grateful:” and then just list whatever comes to mind easily.

If it’s hard at first, make sure you’re not overthinking. When I introduced this into my routine I would almost talk myself out of the stupid things, but I think that’s where a lot of my small, daily joy comes from. Yesterday was cold and rainy and that’s my favorite weather so I wrote “rainy and cold” on my list and I think I put sweatpants on their too. Don’t overthink it and don’t force it and just start doing it.

Here’s some research for the benefits if you don’t want to listen to me, please listen to the science, more of the science and a little more. If these links don’t work- sorry but they’re random articles I found from google scholar after searching gratitude journaling. SO much evidence out there

Meditation This is my long lost love. I feel like I never have the time and I’m fighting to put her back into my routine. It makes me feel great and settles me into my body. More posts to come if when I get back at it. If anyone has techniques or guided mediation recommendations omg let me know. I use a couple podcasts, one is purely guided mediations because they’re like 5 or 10 mins each and I’m short on time a lot. The other is called nothing much happens and it’s just like bedtime stories about mundane routines and not strict mediation, but I love them.

My daily routine and how I make this work for me and don’t give up: My first rule is that if I’m not in the mood, I simply do NOT. Like days where shit sucks is different from days where you feel like you’re breaking down and it physically hurts to think about the future or your goals because everything is so hard. I get that and I treat myself like an adult and know that not doing it one day won’t be an issue as long as I make sure I do it the next day.

In the morning, I think about my schedule. What is today and what is the best way to approach what I have going on? What is the best way to direct my energy? This is intention time :) And then this is where I’m trying to add meditation back in but I really suck at morning time management and I’m trying to use the time to work out before my day gets started. We’ll see lol I’ll prob add it in at the end of my day to help me get to sleep feeling a little more settled and comfy in my own body and mind.

I try to keep my intentions in mind during the day. Sometimes it happens, sometimes not. It’s ok because I did them and I thought about it at least one time during the day for it’s own special, dedicated amount of time.

After I’m completely done for the day, I go what the fuck am I doing on this planet, how can I improve my existence, what do I see happening for myself? Under my intentions, I write my big three goalssss. Something for my own healthy, something for my career and academics, and something to kinda talk about my meant to be, forever home of person that I’m trying to attract. Self-career-social kinda triangle of goals.

Under my goals, I zoom in on everything that went great. The last thing I write down for the day is gratitude so that even if I get a little stressed about not following my intentions too well or not making a lot of progress towards my big picture goals, I can look at today and go I had a great cup of hot chocolate and binged AHS though and I don’t regret it because it made me so happy that I wrote it down.

The end thanks for reading this incredibly long post. I love these long posts where I can just go on about what I do :) I really hope this helps someone who doesn’t vibe with what they’re seeing in their skimming over of law of attraction and manifestation stuff. Fuck that and do you. Sending so much love to y’all <3 L :)

#tarot28 #manifestation #manifesting #manifestation work #Law of Attraction #LOA #intentions #goals #personal development #self love #self care #do it #witchblr #self work #gratitude #meditation

1 note · View note

im-the-king-of-the-ocean · 5 years ago

Note

Bookshop AU + The Missus and the Ex for Galadrilake?

Blinky is in the back room unboxing some new stock when he hears the bell above his shop door jingle.

“Be right out!” He places a stack of books down on a shelf, wipes his brow, and stands up. “Feel free to browse!” He calls over his shoulder. Blinky brushes his hands off on his pants. There’s not much else to do here. He’ll record the new stock on the computer tonight and then get the books out on the shelves tomorrow before opening. One perk of being his own boss; he gets to decide his own schedule.

Footsteps approach the back room and a hand knocks gently on the open door.

“Hello, Mr. Blinky.” Barbara Lake pokes her head in the room. She smiles and Blinky’s heart skips a beat. He dismisses the feeling. It’s no use to dream about such things.

“I had some free time,” Barbara continues. “I thought I’d stop by for a visit.” She looks around at the opened boxes and the stacks of books on every surface in the room. “If you’re busy, I can come back another time?” She takes a step back.

“Oh no, don’t mind all this.” Blinky waves a hand dismissively at the books. “I’m due for a break anyway. Though, I’m afraid I don’t have the next installment of the Hidden Trolls Saga in yet.” He approaches Barbara. “I did, however, set a few other things aside for Jim that I believe he’ll absolutely enjoy reading.” Blinky looks over her shoulder. “Is he out in the shop?”

“Err, no, Jim isn’t with me today,” Barbara starts. “He’s at a friend’s for a sleepover,” She adds hastily, while not making eye contact. “We’ve never really talked, you and I, just the two of us. I thought, that is, if you don’t mind…no, I’m sorry, you probably don’t have the time. I should go—” she steps away.

“No.” Blinky reaches after Barbara. He hesitates before grabbing her arm. He knows how pushy her ex used to be. “I was going to put on a pot of tea anyway,” he tells her. “And, I’d love the company.”

“Alright.” Barbara smiles again, and Blinky’s heart takes the liberty of skipping another beat.

Blinky goes and makes tea in his apartment above the bookshop. While she waits, Barbara meanders through the labyrinthine aisles of shelves. When Blinky comes back downstairs with teapot and cups on a tray, he catches sight of Barbara running her fingertips over the spines of the tomes in the Romance section.

Huh, he’d never take her for that sort of reader. Then again, for all the times she’s visited his bookshop, Barbara’s never picked anything out for herself. The first time she came in, it was due to her hoping to find a delightful tale to read to Jim so he could fall asleep at night. That was a couple years ago now, and Barbara has never strayed from focusing on her son since.

Blinky pauses midway down the stairs. He makes a mental note to learn precisely what sort of book Barbara would enjoy and ensue she walks out with it that day. Then, he approaches her.

They settle to drink their tea in their favorite set of big, comfy armchairs situated by the one of the large windows at the front of the store.

It’s a slow, sunny afternoon. No one else enters the shop. For once, Blinky’s glad. Sure, he needs business from other patrons too, but, getting the chance to just sit with Barbara and talk with her, it’s…well, it’s lovely.

Barbara is clever, witty, and attentive. And, of course, she does that thing to Blinky’s heart that makes it flutter. Blinky doesn’t dare think that there can be anything more between them. He’ll simply cherish their friendship, and the wonderful moments between them that happen like these.

But, great gronka morka, the way the sunlight filters down upon her hair, almost making it shine, and the dazzling, hypnotizing blue of of her eyes…

“Blinky, Blinky are you alright?”

He really needs to focus, Blinky knows that, but he can’t.

Someone walks in the shop.

“Barbara? I knew that was you I saw in the window—”

The man has a ruggedly handsome look going. Unlike Blinky, he’s not comfortably chubby.

And, just like that, the moment is ruined.

“—But I didn’t want to believe you’d be caught dead in a boring, old place like this,” the man goes on, ignorant of the discomfort he’s causing the proprietor of the shop.

Barbara presses her lips together. “I, errr…James, what are you doing here?” She asks the man, James, with an unreadable expression on her face.

“Just out running errands. You know, same old, same old.” James shrugs and grins. “I was thinking, it’s been a while and I’m not the same guy I was back when we were together and—”

Barbara cuts him off with a long sigh. She pinches the bridge of her nose, closes her eyes, and then opens them. “How old is Jim?”

“I—what?”

“How. Old. Is. Our. Son.” Barbara pauses for emphasis after each word. She looks up and glares at her ex. “Tell me, or have you forgotten like you did his birthday?”

James sputters, “I, what, no, I came in here to see you.”

“I know. And I thought I made it clear at our divorce proceedings that we are through, but you clearly haven’t matured enough to recognize what’s right in front of your face.” Barbara stops to glance at Blinky a long second, and then turns her attention back to her ex. “I am in the middle of a date, which I’d like to finish without you ruining, so kindly leave before I kick you out not-so-kindly.”

“Fine!” James throws up his hands. “I didn’t want to sleep with you that much ANYWAY!” He storms out of the bookshop and slams the door.

Barbara sighs again. She looks at Blinky and cringes. “…sorry. If I’d known he’d show up here, I would have…I honestly don’t know what I would have done, but I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Blinky leans forward. He takes one of her hands between his and gives it a comforting squeeze. “I’m sorry you still have to deal with him.”

How such a sweet boy like Jim could ever be related to such a person is utterly confounding, Blinky thinks, but doesn’t say.

“So.” Barbara purses her lips. “About that part where I told him we’re on a date, would you like to go out with me on a real one this Friday night?”

#trollhunters #galadrilake #barbara lake #blinky galadrigal #whirls writing #bookshop au #homosexual-disaster-ziggy #the doctor and the scholar

21 notes · View notes

annashipper · 5 years ago

Text

Discerning Anon

Hi Anna!

I went to the 92Y preview screening and discussion with Michael Shannon and the director Alfonso Gomez-Rejon on the 20th. The moderator, a Columbia University film professor who has been doing these discussions for 30 years gushed that this was THE BEST film she had seen this year!!! She also hadn’t seen any of the earlier versions.

I have to say the AG-R Director’s Cut is a greatly improved version! It runs tighter and quicker and Tesla is now an actual 3rd character. Katherine Waterston’s name should absolutely have been included on the poster!! I thought Michael Shannon as Westinghouse was terrific. As for BC, Edison being a difficult person that people don’t understand and/or like, this is his specialty character, he plays it very well as he usually does.

The director said when he first read the script he wasn’t sure if he was interested because he didn’t really know a lot about electricity, but reading it again he picked up on the characters and how one was obsessed with being remembered and the other was more interested in integrity rather than self-promotion which drew him in. BC was already attached to the project when AG-R signed on - it is a Sunnymarch production - and AG-R went to Brooklyn to see if he could get Michael Shannon onboard who originally gave him a firm hard No, also due to not really knowing a lot about the subject matter. AG-R gave him probably the only book written by people who actually knew Westinghouse, MS read it and signed on because he thought the character was an important one especially in this day and age. Once MS was onboard, I forgot who mentioned Katherine Waterston to the director but he thought that KW and MS would be a fantastic pairing! He was really thrilled to get her signed. AG-R then approached Nicholas Hoult about Tesla, and that he envisioned Tesla as a Bowie type character. NH already knew a lot about Tesla and was in.

AG-R said it was Westinghouse who he most identified with personally. There’s also a new scene where Tesla is reminded that he is just an immigrant and should go back where he came from which also hit a note with him.

AG-R also talked about how historically accurate the movie can really be when there’s not a lot of material about Westinghouse, and how there are real people who have been omitted (Edison had a 2nd wife) and other people were combined into one character. Adding everyone would have taken the movie in a few different directions than how he intended and been a lot longer.

There is an elephant in the movie however I assure you it does not come to any danger or harm. 😉

So what does Martin Scorsese have to do with this? When the project was coming together AG-R was advised to add him to the project as a backup just in case anything should happen, which drew a gasp from the audience. Apparently, there were concerns about HW coming to light before things actually did. Scorsese was the guardian angel in getting this off the shelf it was put on and if worse came to worse Scorsese was going to do the final cut himself, however he believed in AG-R and gave it to him to do as he originally envisioned.

There were lots of questions for MS about how he chooses roles and what he thinks of acting. A lot of people who were part of the production were in the audience along with the director’s mom who also got a round of applause. As for the audience - I think I was the youngest person there!

The problem is the subject matter. You either get into it or you just don’t. Not everyone will find how to build the better power distributor that interesting, although this older crowd did. I don’t think it would necessarily appeal to those who like period pieces if they aren’t engineers. The characters are interesting if you’re interested enough in the subject matter but I don’t think the characters make you interested in the subject matter itself.

It’s not a bad movie. I really enjoyed it because I’m a fan of 5 of the actors and I actually do find machines interesting. However with even the most recent reviews, I might be one of the few who did.

I also went to the NYC movie premiere Monday! The closest I got to the red carpet was walking by it to get in line for the movie which was a block and a half long! Thankfully I was towards the front of the line. They showed the film in a couple theaters, but I’m not sure everyone in line was able to get in.

While BC was doing interviews after their spin on the red carpet, I passed Weirdo who was upstairs chatting with a few people. In heels, she’s taller than me.

All the showings including the Studio/VIP theater let out at the same time. I wandered through and found BC shaking hands and hugging people as they were coming out of the VIP showing. He happily took a few quick pics with some people and kids who were most likely related to the studio execs. He then went over to MS who just came out of the theater who was also in good spirits. You could tell they were both very excited about everyone’s response to the film. Weirdo was there too standing there pleasantly and patiently and then wandered off until it was time for them to leave. Dave wasn’t there but there was a very discreet bodyguard keeping an eye over BC, with Karen not often far from his side.

It looks like the film is going to do well in NYC, people leaving the theater were all talking about what they really liked about it and Edison, even on the bus home. We’ll see how well it does elsewhere.

I do have to say congratulations to AG-R for winning his own war in getting his movie out from under HW and released as he intended. The Director’s Cut really is a much better movie because of it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Thank you so much for sharing your opinion on how the film has progressed Discerning Anon.

Given how unimpressed you were with the 2017 version you’d seen, I was really looking forwart to getting your take on the director’s cut.

The film opens tomorrow in Greece, so I can’t wait to see for myself if AGR was actually able to turn what sounded like a horrible liability into something good.

Thank you also for allowing me to share these pics you took at the premiere with the rest of the class:

Showmance-wise, what I’d really like to know is why Ben didn’t give Weirdo his own suit jacket, instead of her having to borrow David Birkin’s for warmth. By the time she needed it, he was done taking pictures.

Did he forget about the one other time he had to be noble at the 2015 BAFTAS afterparty, a few hours after Ms Ballsy kept pointing out that a real gentleman would have offered his heavily pregnant wife his jacket to keep her from freezing to death on what was a very cold night?

#Discerning Anon #submission

34 notes · View notes

thestudyfeels · 6 years ago

Text

🎨 Graphic made by @indiaisstudying: India is brilliant my pals, and I recommend checking her out for studyblr/artblr inspiration. My girl tHIRIVES.

The singular takeaway from this post: Do a creative binge. Much productive than a Netflix binge. Period.

Two months ago, I reached my peak when I coined the term ‘bood day’ (a bad to good day, in my article How To Flip A Bad Day By 180°). Today, puppies and kittens, I present to you— a creative binge.

*crickets chirping, that one dude in the audience scratches his nose and turns away*

…This one actually works but okay, we get it, y'all are bitches. But gonna do my job anyway– if you're a creator reading this, please do a creative binge at least once every two weeks.

I started doing these binges two months ago, and I've seen a VAST improvement in my creative energy. I feel my commercial voice coughing and saying hello to the mic, so before I start listing side-effects for a sponsored pill, let's dive into the basics.

🍵 Quick PSA —

↪ JOIN MY TAGLIST? If you aren't on this yet, please get on it, it'll mean a lot to me! By joining, you get a new article on lifestyle design & productivity every week.

100 Days of Sweat: This challenge starts TOMORROW (10th of April), so if you wanna hustle on your bod this year, join us! Accountability does crazy things.

Ever questioned your life, experienced writer's block, painter’s pain or blogger’s… block? (Narrator: aaaand she's back to advertising.) A creative binge helps deal with fixing exactly that.

“A creative binge is based off the equation of quality in = quality out.”

A lot of creators feel that they're supposed to magically create out of their head, and that's just ridiculous. It's ludicrous considering you don't know shit, read shit, do shit and watch shit.

Even to write fiction, my pal, you'll have to expose yourself to the world to know its ways, read great books and take tips (not to mention stock up on coffee, and prepare to cry a lot) before you start cranking out the pages. Everything you create is ultimately inspired by the Ways Of The World. (And that's a fantastic novel title)

So in short, you’ve got to consume content, to make content. And in a creative binge, you conscious choose content that'll help you create. Genius, I know!

Okay, but what if I'm not a creator?

Brilliant question! Wanna become more valuable and leave the people you interact with better? Take a creative binge.

Allow me an elaboration: Take a janitor and a neurosurgeon. The said janitor is paid much less than the neurosurgeon. Why is that? Is the neurosurgeon a better person? That's debatable. Is the janitor less efficient at his work? Again, debatable. The primal reason lies in the neurosurgeon acquiring more valuable skills than the janitor. Society rewards them by paying more since there are less folks who can do what the neurosurgeon does.

To recap: In order to be indispensable in the role you play (whatever it is, a student, calligrapher, CEO of the Janitor Club), you HAVE to become valuable. Grow your curiosity & know more than yo’ buddies (also bring more value than anybody else). And to become valuable, you consume value. Tada!

(And if you still ain't convinced, I'll pull out the Netflix card. You'd really rather watch shows? Or binge YouTube? Than learn a new skill, or develop existing ones? Question your priorities, my friend. Victims love entertainment, victors love learning.)

Cool, you're joining in then! Not that creative binge is NOT an entertainment binge. It's a value providing binge. What you ‘consume’ has to bring you something in return— whether that's creative inspiration, motivation or skills. *Swing arms* yup! We’re one gay, productive household. Someone remind Hallie to buy the groceries though, the Cheerios are going mouldy.

By my dictionary, a creative binge is a slot of time, 1½ to 3 hours I'd say, when you watch/read/listen to some good stuff. Basically, binge content.

THE 101 OF A CREATIVE BINGE

🌿 Basics:

I conduct one every week (usually Wednesday mornings), lasting around 1½ to 2 hours.

I'll also keep a notepad and a pen nearby, to take notes and jot ideas as they come. Again, this is NOT an entertainment binge, even though it's a chill job.

Sometimes I'll get passive things done (like wiping my desk, eating breakfast and taking out textbooks) while watching. We maximize our time.

🌿 What Do I Watch:

The stuff I watch falls into 3 categories: creative/humor (for inspiration), business/skills (for skills) & motivation (for, um, motivation). Fair warning though, a lot of the stuff these folks make overlap, but that's alright. This is just a rough demarcation.

Creative/Humor: some YesTheory, maybe some MacDoesIt, sprinkle in some Ryan Higa, perhaps an episode of a show with an amazing script, some stand-up comedy from my favorites. Or maybe trash that and just watch Sherlock. (Geez, Netflix, I hate you, I love you.)

Skills: Gary Vee, some artist channels, that random video on how to thrift shop even though I don't shop.

Motivation: Be Inspired, Tom Bilyeu, Mel Robbins and random videos which look nice.

🌿 What Do I Listen To:

Oof, I love music tremendously! If you're a pal, you know it's time to RUN when I come around being like, “soo, I was wondering what's your favourite–”.

Yet, during a creative binge, I'll only listen to stuff that 1) inspires me, or 2) is creative in a way I can't explain. Some recommendations!

Hype music:

The Score

Imagine Dragons

Creative music:

Billie Eilish

Lana Del Rey

Sleeping At Last

Lorde

Conan Gray

Harry Styles

🌿 What Do I Read:

Usually the book that I'm reading at that point if I'm being lazy.

POETRY: It's my belief, but poetry is a writer's most powerful device. There's a novel to be said in a simple sonnet.

FICTION: I dig great fiction. PS, please read (and sob over) Away Childish Things, by @letteredlettered. It changed me as a person, changed my entire perspective about kids. I'm much kinder and softer now, and my pimples are gone. I'll literally never get over drarry too, so thanks lettered, love you.

ARTICLES: Bookmarked psychology, productivity & fitness articles on Medium. Maybe check out James Clear's & Gary Vee’s blog for new posts.

Because I wanna drive this home, here's what I did in my last creative binge as a concrete example —

Care to Note that:

All of the stuff I consume is pre-planned.

I add videos throughout the week to my Creative Binge playlist on YouTube, download albums from Amazon Music and articles for offline reading.

DON'T leave this to the last moment, you'll more likely pick entertainment vs learning then.

Watched–

Why I'm done trying to be "man enough"

Redecorating my room 2017 (I wanna decorate my room this year so)

How to Squat Properly (I’m trying lmao)

Giving a 9-Year-Old Her Dream Job for 24hrs!! (I stan YesTheory so much)

How To NOT Be A Starving Artist (A mood. I love Sorelle)

Couple more, I could go on & on, but you get me.

Listened–

Every song on YouTube by Bruno Major

Born to die: paradise version (album) by Lana Del Rey

Read–

Articles from James Clear's blog — (x) (x)

Articles from Gary Vee’s blog — (x) (x)

HIIT workouts for beginners

All of this birthed–

Ideas for future articles, titled: How To Be Great & Solomon Letters #2: Question Your Faith, Not Your Dreams, among others.

A small poem about faith– posted on my IG, check it out!

New content ideas, like value chains (upcoming!)

Bunch of other small rants for everyday posting

Some business and life advice that might be useful later.

Gotta say goodbye now! (literally too... but post about it coming on 12th so wait for it) Try this one out, and let me know how your binge goes (tag it with #team conquer). Mine usually end with a bucketful of philo notes, a recharged left (right? psychology? idk) brain, and a fresh perspective towards the rest of my week.

This is the #1 strategy I've adopted to sustain creative energy when it's sapped all around by negativity and school & I promise it helps. No side effects, no sponsored pills needed. Thanks for reading!

Related: How To Get Back Into The Creative Process (if you're in a blogger's block or experiencing painter's pain)

Have something to say? I treasure all feedback! If this post inspired you to do something, or you wanna throw some love/constructive criticism at me— hop into my ask box, or reply to this post itself!

Thanks for dropping by! Major articles, like this one, come out every Thursday! Join my taglist by to read them when they do. I also post daily wins, journal entries, rants & photos of my plant babies throughout the week, so follow me if you’re into conquering life. I vow to be the loudest cheerleader. ✧

Sending you love and good energy, talk soon.

Nandini 💌 (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

🍊↪ TAGLIST (join here):

Thank you to these folks for supporting my content! I appreciate & love you, hope y'all are taking care. ⬇

@doctorearlgray, @mintschlar, @procrastilate, @scienceandsarcasticdroids, @sxudying, @hannistudies, @vocative, @studign-stars, @ash-trological, @sweet-bean-study-queen, @chaoticstormthings, @lunetudes, @beingstudent, @beautiful-magicalbrain, @akydemics, @literery, @redvelvetstu-dies, @vivinotes, @jynsdesk, @moonshinestudies, @studying-in-chaos, @thelazyunistudent, @einstetic, @ram-the-blonde-bitch, @a-students-lifebuoy, @studahliless, @inspostudying, @the-diary-of-a-failure, @would-iwasshookethspeared, @coffeeandpies, @artsytourism, @gloomstudy, @scrolls-of-jupiter, @studytrivia, @ristudy, @isatriestostudy, @historicalbeez, @luvjoys, @indiaisstudying, @studyingunderwater, @dianeemay, @kemi-k, @londonotes, @froststudies, @pennyfynotes, @studiently, @midnightstudying, @unicorndoesstudies, @studyingundersun, @wingedprunepsychiclawyer, @tonystarkstudies, @delphinaaugery, @morganastudy, @studiies-psych, @sumastudies, @emrys-studies, @parleonstudies, @acataemic, @studylustre, @adelinestudiess, @sorcierstudies, @coffeeinfusedstudying, @pizza-and-studying, @the-third-me, @scrunchiestudies, @jemsjournals, @jas-study, @jabuticabablr, @khelmatic, @avastvdies, @anatomyandphysics, @neversecondbest, @podcast-listener, @astudyinpharmacy, @mandiestudie, @brazilianstudyblr, @redheadredheart, @rahastudies, @introvered-violinist + you, if you’re reading this!

#unicorn studying #studign-stars #inspostudying #looklibraerie #heypfyn #jacistudies #lunetudes #ash-trological #studylustre #gloomstudy #dahliless #moonshinestudies #athenastudying #heypat #heylondonotes #adelinestudiess #hanniscup #heyindia

366 notes · View notes

blurry-fics · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter Twelve

Prove Me Wrong | Series Masterlist

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1796

Author’s Note: As always, I wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone who has been showing support for this series! It means the world to me :) Also, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

I dumped my mug into the sink and rinsed it out, but left it to sit until I decided to do dishes later that night. There were other, more pressing, matters on my mind.

Like the beach trip with Y/N yesterday.

Everything had felt so natural, from her taking dorky pictures of us at sunset to carrying her around when her shoe broke. For the first time in a long time, I hadn’t been thinking about how she deserved someone better than me. Or how I would never be good enough.

All that mattered was us.

And yet, I was still too scared to tell her how I felt.

I grabbed a clean t-shirt from my closet and pulled it on over my sweatpants. There was still a couple hours until I had to meet Josh for practice, but I didn’t really want to spend the entire morning shirtless. My apartment was too cold for that, even after drinking a steaming cup of coffee.

My phone started to ring as I was in the middle of brushing my teeth. Normally, I would have made whoever it was wait until I was done, but this was Y/N.

“Hello?” I answered. My voice sounded weird, considering my mouth was full of toothpaste.

“Tyler!” she huffed. “I need your help settling a debate… again.”

“Is it Mario Kart related?”

“Always.”

“What’s the debate?”

“Ok, so this morning Carter and I were having a tournament using characters that we don’t normally use. I won’t tell you who chose who for sake of avoiding a biased answer, but the debate is about if Princess Peach or Baby Bowser is a better character.”

“Better for what?”

“Just in general.”

I spit out my toothpaste and rinsed my mouth before answering, taking the time to really contemplate my answer.

“Ok, I have an answer.”

“And?”

“Peach is better.”

“No, Tyler! Wrong answer!” she groaned.

“What do you mean wrong answer?” I laughed. “You asked for my opinion, so that’s what I gave you.”

“Yes, but you were supposed to read my mind, determine that Baby Bowser was the correct answer, and then tell me that so that I could beat Carter in this stupid debate.”

“He said Peach was better?” Carter asked from the background.

“Yes!” Y/N answered. “Because he’s dumb.”

“Hey! You’ve said yourself that I’m the Mario Kart expert.”

“Yeah, well maybe that only applies in some areas.”

“Sorry, Y/N. I’m sure I’ll be on your side next time.”

“Yeah, right,” she laughed.

“Is that all you needed?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Ty.”

“No problem.”

“Wait!” she said suddenly.

“Yeah?”

“The weather tomorrow is supposed to be really nice, and I was wondering if you wanted to go stargazing at our favorite spot? There shouldn’t be that many clouds and you know there’s no light pollution up there, so I think we’ll be able to see a lot of stuff.”

“Yeah, that would be super fun.”

“Awesome. I think we can borrow my brother’s truck too. Right, Car?”

I couldn’t hear Carter’s answer over the phone, but based on Y/N’s response, it seemed like he had confirmed what she said.

“Make sure to bring blankets!”

“Will do.”

“Ok, I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too.”

“Bye.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

I hung up the call and set my phone on the counter so that I could finish getting ready, unable to keep the smile off my face.

* * *

“Good afternoon,” Josh announced as he walked into the practice space.

“Hey,” I answered from my spot behind the piano. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been ok. It feels like forever since we were last practicing.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve been busy.”

“And by busy do you mean hanging out with Y/N every day?”

“We have big stuff coming up soon! I want to spend time with her before we end up getting super busy.”

“Nothing is set in stone yet, Tyler.”

“You’re right. We need to get more work done on this album before that happens.”

“Exactly.”

Josh finally set his bag down against the wall and got himself adjusted behind his drums. There was a ton of work to be done today and not much time to do it.

“Have you come up with anything new since last practice?” he asked.

“A few things here and there, but nothing solid. We can take a look at it today and see if you have any suggestions about what to add. I’m open to anything, at this point.”

“Are we getting close to filling an entire album?”

“I think so, if we end up reworking the older songs.”

“Awesome.”

“Yeah.”

“So, start from the top?” Josh asked, giving his drums a light tap.

“Let’s do it.”

* * *

“Alright, I need a break,” Josh said, grabbing a nearby towel and wiping his forehead down with it.

“Agreed.”

I got up and grabbed my water bottle from my backpack, chugging about half the bottle in one go. My throat was dry from singing and I could tell that my vocal cords were starting to get tired, so a break would be good for the both of us.

“So, you and Y/N went to the beach yesterday, right?”

I smiled, “Yeah, it was super fun.”

“What did you do?”

“We walked around town for awhile once we got there, until Y/N decided that she wanted to go in the water. I just hung out on the beach while she did that, but then she convinced me to join her so I did. Um, and then we got pizza and ate it on the beach next to a fire that I built and I played some of the new songs for her. Oh, and I had to carry her around for a bit because her shoe broke.”

Josh’s eyebrows were raised, “Sounds like a pretty nice date.”

“It wasn’t a date,” I snapped back, probably too quickly.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes, we were just hanging out.”

“Tyler, man, you carried her around.”

“Her shoe broke!” I huffed. “She’s just my best friend, ok? I didn’t want to make her walk around the pavement because there could have been broken glass or something and we’re comfortable enough with one another to do things like that.”

“Yeah?”

I cast my eyes down towards the floor as I continued to speak, “She’s just like - I don’t know how to describe it. I never have to worry about anything when I’m with her, you know? She knows how to make me laugh even at the dumbest things. I don’t think I could ever get tired of being around her. She’s just-”

Too good for you.

“Sorry, I’m rambling. I’ll shut up,” I mumbled.

“And you’re sure that you don’t have feelings for her?”

“Yes.”

Stop lying, Tyler.

“Well. Um, actually no.”

“So you do like her?”

I rubbed my nose, “Yes.”

“Why are you blushing, man?” Josh laughed. “That’s awesome!”

“Sorry, it’s just - that’s the first time that I’ve ever said that out loud.”

“Are you going to tell her?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not? Doesn’t she have feelings for you?”

“Um, yeah. But it’s complicated,” I said, reaching up to rub at the back of my neck.

Josh nodded, “That’s cool. You have to do what’s right for you.”

“Yeah.”

I took another long drink of water, tossed it down next to my stuff, and sat back down behind my piano. Josh remained where he was sitting against the wall, eating some crackers that he had brought with him.

“What about you, Josh? What’s been going on with you?” I asked, hoping to get the conversation off of me for awhile.

He shrugged, “Not much, really.”

“There has to be something.”

“Not really. Still single. The band is my primary focus. I see my family every now and again. Things are pretty straightforward.”

I nodded, “That’s cool.”

“I guess. I’m hoping the band stuff starts to pick up soon, that way we can actually start traveling and playing outside of Ohio.”

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to being able to do that. It won’t be long now, with all the music we have in the works.”

“For sure. Speaking of which, have you come up with a title for that song yet?” Josh asked.

“Which one?”

“You know-” Josh paused upon realizing that he didn’t have anything to call said unnamed song. Instead, he decided to make his best attempt at singing one of the verses, “The sun will rise and we will try again.”

“Oh, right,” I said, playing the correct melody on the piano. “No, not yet. I was going to ask Y/N since she was the one that made me keep that lyric in the first place, but I forgot.”

“Well, I - um - had a few ideas.”

“Sure, let’s hear them.”

“Sunrise.”

I shook my head, “It doesn’t feel right.”

“That’s ok, that’s not my best suggestion.”

“What else you got?”

“White Flag.”

“What?”

“You know, like you’re kinda giving in for now. A surrender. A white flag.”

“Still not right,” I shook my head again.

“Ok, this is my last suggestion.”

“Ok.”

“But I think it’s my best one.”

I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Truce.”

“Truce,” I repeated, then slowly began to nod. “Yeah, I think that’s it.”

“You like it?”

“Definitely. It fits the song, but it isn’t obvious.”

“And I think it should be the last song on the album.”

“Agreed.”

“Speaking of Truce,” Josh smiled. “We should get through the second half of the songs.”

“Let’s do it.”

Y/N was on my mind as we played the rest of the songs. It felt weird to finally have my feelings out in the open after so many years of keeping it to myself. I had expected it to feel bad when I finally told someone, but instead I felt good. Really good.

Hopeful, even.

* * *

“Hey, hey, hold the music,” Josh said, holding a hand out towards me.

“What? Why?”

Josh didn’t answer. He was busy frantically pulling his phone out of his pocket and reading over the number.

“I have to take this.”

Oh. Oh.

“Hello?” was all I heard before the door closed behind him and the conversation became muffled. My hands were already shaking from nerves, despite the fact that I wasn’t even the one on the phone. To distract myself, I began to play some notes on the piano.

Josh walked back into the room a few minutes later, his phone still in hand. His lips were pursed as he turned to look at me. I simply raised an eyebrow at him, and his mouth curled up into the biggest smile I had ever seen. He took a deep breath before speaking.

“We got it.”

* * * * *

Taglist

@faceofcontvsions @ohprettyweeper @spookyjiimfanfiction @addictoftwentyone @svintsandghosts @gaiatheroyalrabbit @iamnotawasteofspace @patdsinner33 @merandlune @addictwithaheavydirtycheetah @schrodingersjustine @ccfffee @frappeitea @gayy-pilotss @coolcxt @donttellaweirdweakling @a-stumpsexuals-world @5secondsofmoxley @breadbinishigh @summer-wasteland @topownsmyheart @wearebxnditos @littlerachelbee

47 notes · View notes

azvolrien · 5 years ago

Text

Five Vignettes about Asta in Stormhaven - Departure

Last one! Involves genealogy.

~~~

“So, let me see if I’ve got this straightened out in my head,” said Calburn, nudging aside the lesson plan laid out on the café table. “You are, in fact, Kiraani nobility?”

“In a loose sense, yes,” said Asta. “I’m part of House zeDamar.”

“But you’re not, like, nobility-nobility?”

“I don’t have a title, no. I’m not ‘Lady Asta’.”

“So how does it work?”

“Well…” Asta frowned thoughtfully. “The noble houses are based on lineage, not land. Who you’re descended from, not what territory they held. The nobiliary particle ‘ze’ means ‘descendant of’, or more poetically ‘of the line of’. With me?”

Calburn nodded slowly. “So that makes you ‘Asta of the line of Damar’, Damar being your ancestor?”

“Yes, what we call the Founding Lord – the person the House is named after. Or Founding Lady, but most of them were men. If I recall correctly, Damar was an architect or an engineer or something who was raised to the nobility for his work on the Bastion back in the Imperial City, some seven or eight hundred years ago. The five most prominent noble houses – zeAkiro, zeKandron, zeYunar, zeMora and zeTharion – are the descendants of Raan the Conqueror’s closest allies when he was fighting to unite the Kargvallen hill tribes, but today there are fifty-odd different houses. Officially they’re all of equal rank; in practice there’s a whole system of seniority based on how long ago the Founding Lord lived as well as political and economic influence. House zeDamar is roughly in the middle on all counts.”

Calburn nodded again, less slowly.

“As far as rank within each house goes,” Asta went on, “that’s all to do with birth order. House leadership is passed down from the Founding Lord, from parent to oldest child, over and over through the years. That direct line of descent forms the core family – the current House Lord and their children and grandchildren. The House Lord’s great-grandchildren, however, except for those via the firstborn, are not part of the core family; those are the people whose descendants lead to minor branches, people like me who carry the name but don’t have any titles or lands. My…” Asta paused for a second and started to count off on her fingers, “…great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great,” she glanced down at her hands, realised she had run out of fingers, and tagged on an additional ‘great’, “grandfather was the third son of the Lord zeDamar of the day. So the last common ancestor I have with the current core family was so long ago that, name aside, we’re not even really related in any meaningful biological sense.”

“I have no idea what degree of cousin that is,” said Calburn. “So if the Imperial line is descended from this Raan the Conqueror… Does that make the new Emperor ‘Zarannon zeRaan’?”

“The Imperial line prefers to use their titles instead,” said Asta, smiling, “but I suppose it does, yes.”

“Did you hear Wygar and Fayn got invited to the coronation?”

“Yes – from you, at least five times.”

“They must be nearly in Kiraan by now,” said Calburn. “I hope they’re all right.”

“Fayn did seem a bit peaky the last time I saw her,” said Asta, “but I’m sure the royal entourage’s healers are very skilled.”

“I suppose,” said Calburn with a sigh. He pulled the lesson plan back over. “So, this lesson I’ve drawn up for the apprentices tomorrow – d’you think it’s too advanced, or is this a good place to start them off?”

“If they’re only junior apprentices, you probably don’t need to go into this much detail,” said Asta after a minute. “The exact mechanics of construct growth can probably wait until they have a better handle on the basics. Maybe add something about revenants in your history section, though, to help keep their interest. Children love gruesome details, and what’s more gruesome than a mummified corpse enchanted to walk around?”

“A non-mummified corpse?” suggested Calburn.

“That’s revolting,” said Asta with a reluctant smile. “Accurate, but revolting.”

The waitress arrived with their drinks, and Asta took a newspaper from her satchel.

“You must be one of the only people in Stormhaven who gets the Duncraig Herald,” said Calburn, spooning sugar into his coffee.

“I think there are a few other ex-pats from the Sea Lochs who like to keep track of how things are going at home.” Asta briefly cast her eye over the headline – preparations for celebrating the Emperor’s upcoming coronation – and turned the page.

Calburn wrapped his hands around the mug and sipped his coffee. “Funny you say it like that,” he noted.

“Like what?”

“Well – you’re Kiraani, born and raised in the Imperial City. You only lived in the Sea Lochs for five years, yeah, and as a slave at that, and you’ve been here for the last two. But it’s there that you think of as home, not Kiraan.”

Asta averted her eyes. “Home is where the heart is, I suppose,” she said.

Calburn took another sip. “This mysterious painted barbarian of yours, then,” he said.

“Hey, only I’m allowed to call her that,” said Asta without ire. She laid the newspaper on the table and picked up her teacup. “But… Yes, that’s it. So, speaking of… such matters, your girlfriend doesn’t object to your meeting up with another woman for tea and coffee?”

“Nah, Olwen’s too confident for that kind of thing,” said Calburn. “’Sides, she’s well aware of your tastes.”

Asta smiled and turned her attention back to the paper, scanning idly over the first few articles. Then the name ‘MacArra’ leapt off the page and she picked the paper back up to read more closely.

“’S up?” asked Calburn.

Asta started to grin hugely. “Read this! This article here!”

She didn’t really need to point it out; it took up half of the page. Calburn took the paper, cleared his throat, and started to read key words aloud.

“Right. Uh-huh. Clan MacArra, Sea Loch noble house based on estate outside Duncraig… Protection of Slaves Act… anonymous tipoff, suspected to be one of the household servants… Overwhelming evidence of abusive behaviour now recognised under the Act as unlawful. Oh, eurgh, ‘unlawful’ is one way of putting it – look what they’d been up to. Sounds like you were lucky to get out when you did.”

“Believe me, I’m under no illusions about that. Daro didn’t make it a secret that he wanted me as his ‘personal companion’.”

Calburn wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I don’t even want to think about what that would’ve meant by his standards. Let’s see, slaves and free servants interviewed by marshals, evidence compiled and presented to the Governor… Twenty-year custodial sentence? Wow. The new Emperor really means business over this. Wonder how he managed to get it through the Senate? Even in Stormhaven we know how much clout the Slavers’ League holds.”

“I did see him at the university once, back in Kiraan,” said Asta. “He’d come to officially open a new equestrian centre for the sports department. He’s quite a big man – taller than Wygar and with massive shoulders. Maybe he just stood up and loomed imposingly at them.”

“Huh. Wonder if he’s going to aim for banning it outright next?”

“That would be nice, but I don’t think the Empire is quite ready for that big a change yet.” Asta stirred her tea and drank.

“So… What happens now? You going to head back north, now your old owners are out of the way?”

“Well… Yes. There are things to arrange, though. Moving out, tendering my resignation, arranging transport…”

“On that last point,” said Calburn. “A couple of the Portallists up at the College do owe me a favour. The rest seems easy enough to handle – even easier if you’re prepared to leave the stuff in your flat behind. But… I hope we can stay in touch.”

The very next morning, Asta rode up to the College and led Pardus through to the School of Portals’ territory, where an empty archway of solid stone waited in the centre of an otherwise empty room.

“You’re quite sure about this?” asked Master Gwen, reading over Asta’s letter of resignation for the third time as a Portallist prepared to open a gate to Duncraig.

“Yes.”

Master Gwen turned a careful eye on Asta. “I think,” she said, “I will consider you on leave for the next few weeks. To leave your options open for a while. And if you don’t come back,” she waved the letter in the air, “then I will file this.”

Asta frowned, but nodded. “Thank you.”

“But since you’re going up there anyway – this portal will take you to the University of Duncraig. Can you drop this off with the rector on your way through?” She held up a bag of correspondence.

Asta laughed and took it from her. “Yes, of course. Thank you for all your help.”

Calburn sidled around the door, moments before running footsteps sounded in the corridor and Ari skidded through behind him.

“Good, I caught you,” she said, panting for breath. She straightened up and laid both hands on Asta’s shoulders. “You’re really going back to the Sea Lochs?”

Asta nodded. “Yes. I… I’ve liked living in Stormhaven. I really have. But I don’t think it’s where I belong.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Well…” Ari pulled her into a robust bear-hug. “You’ll always have a place here if you want to come back,” she said. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Thank you. Say goodbye to Fayn for me when she gets back from the coronation.”

Calburn joined the hug, lifting both of them off the ground for a moment. “Safe journey,” he said. “I’ll miss your help with my lessons – I think the kids will too.”

The Portallist cleared her throat and raised her arms. The space within the archway shimmered and distorted, until with a flash of light and a puff of displacing air, the view changed from the other side of the room to a snowy courtyard. “Duncraig portal open and holding,” she stated. “Step through whenever you’re ready. Preferably soon, though – I can’t hold this forever!”

Calburn let go and drew back, patting Asta on the shoulder. “Go on, then,” he said, sniffling a little. “Go find your barbarian.”

Asta smiled, waved a last farewell to everyone, and led Pardus through the arch into the chill of a Duncraig winter. The portal closed behind them without a sound. The rector’s office was not far from the quadrangle where the gateway had opened; it only took a few minutes to drop off Gwen’s letters and head out into the street. Another half-hour saw them crossing the great bridge north of the city and riding along the bank of Loch Gorm, southwest towards the sea.

Asta took a deep breath of the cold, sea-scented air as Pardus ran. She was going home.

~~~

Zar is not, in fact, completely above looming imposingly at people to get his way, but he prefers to try the diplomatic path first.

#az writes stories

1 note · View note