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bravo-four-seal-team · 3 years ago

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Email From the past brought to the present.

Co-Written Series with @disasterfandoms Tags:

@galaxysanduniversesinmymind @rebelwrites @chibsytelford @mrsmarvelous1995 @disasterfandoms @jasonbabymama @velvetcardiganbucky @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @pinkrockstar19 @softi92 @thelovelyleo23 @itsonautopilot @supervalcsi

@abby-splace @theysayitscrazy

Summary: 2019 and Ashley finally reads Trent’s response. Find the first one here: Email with a side of regret

"Ashley"

She didn't like that tone at all, removing her headphones and looking up she grinned "Hey baby what's up?" She asked, "why is there only one unread email from Trent in your inbox?" Metal asked, raising an eyebrow, the marine frowned.

That email was sent in response to her reaching out to the one she held off reading, not wanting to see the 'Stay out of my life' message. She knew her brother took pity on her when he saw the state she was in, sure they spoke and got along with each other.

But it wasn't being siblings, it was more like a friend you didn't want to get too close to.

"Oh that, it's nothing," she said with a shrug, turning back to folding up her things "Ashley," Metal said in a slightly harsher tone "Why haven't you read this? It's dated 2017"

"Uhm… because it was in response to an email I sent Trent, after being freed from Captivity"

Metal fell silent. Looking at her, trying to figure out if she was being serious? “Why haven’t you read it?”

“Dude, you are just back. Get off my back about it.” she snapped getting up from her spot on the floor “It’s not your business” she says, going to grab the tablet, but Metal held it up higher.

“Are you ever gonna trust me enough to let me in?” Metal states “Ash it’s 2019. This was what? Almost Two years ago.” he says, watching her, he would have made a comment about his ‘kids’ being his cats following her like ducklings but was more focused on the fact she was avoiding this “You should read it” he urges.

“Scott Enough” She states turning to glare at the taller man. “I have to prepare to leave for base, you and your SEAL buddies are meeting with that blondie, who got hurt in the Philippines.” she says, moving past him only to be stopped “damn it, Scott, that's playing unfair!”

“Baby calm down, you don’t gotta rush, you’ll get to base in plenty of time” he states, keeping his grip on her “Take a breath, calm down and talk to me about what's going in your head,” he says, feeling her stop trying to pull away “It’s nothing ok? That email is from 2017, I got a response to an email I sent after my captivity...I don’t want to open it to find out it just says F off” she whispered. “Don’t wanna see what it said. I already know he took pity on me, when he saw me in the street that day.”

“Your brother cares about you, it won't say that '' Metal says.

“Look I know you're just back from deployment and helping get the guy who hurt Spenser, and I'm preparing to leave, 6 months away from here, I just can’t read that email ok?” she says, glancing up to meet his gaze.

“Then what about I read it, and let you know if it's ok, then maybe you’ll work on your relationship with him more?” the SEAL suggests, Ashley sighed, nodding “ok but I need to go now, see you when I see you,” she says.

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She's sitting on the plane, scrolling through her mail on her tablet when she sees the new message from Metal with: read it as the subject line, taking a breath she clicked on it, watching the words come up on the screen, slowly reading through it, she could feel the anxiety making itself known.

People are sleeping around her, unsure of how to react, she would need to talk to Trent about it, but she knew one thing, both Amelia and Scott were right - Trent Cared.

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The Response To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: RE: Surprise Bitch I lived. (plz open this)

Ashley.

First, the subject line? It is unprofessional...Somehow very you.

I don’t even know how to start, I am very happy that you are alive, which means I can let that worry go that I’ve been carrying for the past 5 years, I can stop checking obituaries, memorial plaques, and the Marine fallen sailor pages. My girlfriend Amelia (who you met! You followed her home, Ashley! Are you insane?!) telling me how you visited her, how you told her that you’ve worked with Bravo and been on the same base and avoided me. You should have just spoken to me, kid.

Thank you for apologizing, but I know the whole truth. When I divorced her, she told me everything that happened, but a year had passed, and you had changed your contact numbers. Because of her, I lost my baby sister.

Mom told me about your falling out, in 2013, god Ash, you’ve been alone all this time with no one to lean on or come home to, I can’t imagine how difficult that would have been. I’m sorry, I wish I had tried to find you sooner.

I’m glad you were rescued, that you are safe, I heard chatter around the base from Marines for the past few months, but no names were mentioned, and working the job I do, we weren’t given any indication of who was taken. When you are clear to return to Virginia, give me a call, my number is still the same, I’ll pick you up and you can spend the rest of your recovery with myself and Amelia.

I think you two will get along great, and yes, I am happy, I don’t feel like I need to pretend to be someone else, my teammates can crash here with no judgment from her, then again, she understands the lifestyle I live, her brother is also in the Navy.

Of course, I want to have our relationship back, you are my sister, nothing will ever change that, I want to know everything, where you have been, people you met, tragedies you encountered, things you learned, I want to know how you have been, relationships. No matter what Ashley. You are my sister, you are my family.

I know you joke about things with Mom and Dad, I know they disowned you, but you always have me. No matter how mad I am at you, or upset, I will always be there for you. I’ve missed having my little sister around, it would be nice to introduce you properly to some friends and Amelia, I told her about you, things you did as a kid, things I taught you.

I know you didn’t expect a reply, if roles were reversed, I’d be the same. I can’t lie, I thought about not responding, the thing is, we lost one of our teammates 4 days ago, I can’t go into detail. But your email was a surprise, and when I received this it was about 5 am.

Take care kid. I'll see you soon. Give me a call when you can, if you can.

Do not punch your Gunnery Sergeant.

Trent.

#Trent Sawyer #OC: Ashley Sawyer #scott full metal carter #OC: Amelia Carter Mention #Seal Team #ao3 series #No Beta we die like men. Lol.

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babyjiminiexx · 4 years ago

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Angel On Fire (Chapter 1)

Sinopsis/Chapter 1/ Chapter ?

Demon!andBisexual!Jimin X Demon!reader (Mention of the other members)

When you fell in love with him you had never thought you would get caught and pay for it. But here you are now, body fuming with hate and ready to sow the pain with every step you take.

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Warnings: mention of sex, swearing and mature language, mature topics...

Author's Note: i just wanted to say a quick thank you to every single one of you for sharing and leaving kind messages about AOF!! i didn’t expect any of this and i am SO GLAD!! that you’re liking the idea and the direction it’s taking!! 💖

Also, this is kind of a chapter 0, it’s to put in situation so i’m sorry if this doesn’t have the drama y’all were expecting, i want to slowly build it and put my readers in situation so this can last as long as i can write about it and so you can really get that conection that i wish i can give you!! but anyways, i hope you’ll like this and again, thank you so so much, i’ll try to do a proper post about this!! 💖 💖 💖 💖 💖 💖 💖

————-

"Wow... That was... Like... WOW!", you couldn't help but laugh at the comment, "Seriously! It was the best sex I've ever had!"

You get up from the bed that was now witness of the many sins you had committed during the night and turned your head to the young boy that was laying on his back, still naked.

"Why are you so surprised?", you ask while lightning up a cigarette.

"I-I don't know! No woman has ever done the things you did to me!", he said, still trying to recover his breath, "Don't be so dramatic", you laugh.

Slowly, you make your way back to the bed, leaning your body over his and caressing his cheek, "You're actually cute, do you know that?"

"Did you came?", the boy asks. Of course you didn't. "It was great", you say placing a peck on his lips.

Humans... Specially men, always trying to do their best, but still failing at it, how sad... But what counts is the intention, they say. He was just a boy in his early 20s, you found him alone trying to get your attention at the bar a few hours earlier. It was cute how much effort he would put in his actions to see if you would notice him, and the way his blood made a single turn all over his body when you finally approached him was even cuter. You needed a distraction, again. It wasn't that hard to get one anyways. As a demon, you could make any woman or man fall for you whenever you wanted to, and you soon found that eternity could feel pretty lonely, so that came in handy. At first you weren't really down for that idea; your Master insisted that a few of his disciples showed you that being on the otherside of Heaven wasn't that boring after all.

When in the Land of Gods, any contact with the human world was totally forbidden; in the Netherworld... Boy that was a different story...

Demons found fun in playing with the human race, distantly or near them. They were so innocent, so ignorant, so... human, that living amongst them turned into your favorite pastime.

And this boy was a pretty good pastime.

"Can you stay the night?", the boy asked you with puppy eyes. Again, he's so damn cute.

"No baby, I have grown ups things to do..."

"Now? It's 4AM! Don't you ever sleep?"

"Darling, the Devil never sleeps", and with that, you got out of the apartment, going straight to yours.

Forgetting about why you were out in the streets at this time, you actually enjoyed late night walks like these. The silence. It was really nice when you spent your whole day in between noises of cars, people complaining and others. You could use this silence admire things that simple humans couldn't see, and it was beautiful.

You weren't that far away from your apartment, on your way there you just crossed the path of a drunk homeless man that kept ranting about not having wine anymore, so you being you, you gave the poor man a few gallons of it, just so he could have a little more fun out there. He was too drunk to notice how you managed to make appear the wine anyways.

Not even a second in your home, you start to feel strange. Not strange in a bad way, but surprisingly good; everything was feeling so peaceful, maybe too peaceful, way too good to be real. That strange feeling had been following you all day, you couldn't perceive what it was, but you knew it was there. A warm and peaceful feeling. You double checked your apartment, not really sure about what you hoped to find...

"So, Paris, huh?", you sigh in relief and smile at the sound of that familiar voice, "I can't say I expected to find you that far away"

"Jimin...", you left your coat on the kitchen counter and went straight to give the blond boy a hug, "Feels good to see you..."

"How long was it? 18? 19 years? Let me see you...", he took your hands and made you turn around, "2020 looks amazing on you, glad you abandoned these thin eyebrows and cowboy boots from the 2000s", he laughed.

"Come on, full denim boy, you thought you were the top in the 2000s!"

"And I sure was..."

It was good to see him again, you didn't actually realize how much you were missing Jimin until now. He was the first person to not look at you like he was about to eat you raw when you fell into the Netherworld. And he was one of the firsts to show you all the pleasures of that world too, every pleasure. You can say that all you are today is thanks to him; he was your best friend, and that explained the feeling that accompanied you the whole day.

"So, what did I miss?", he asks you while taking a bottle of red wine from your shelf.

"Nothing much...", you sigh, "the usual, I'm always here and there, trying to get fun from now and then..."

"I saw that...", he said with a smirk. You obviously knew he was there, he would never miss seeing you in these kinds of situations, you even thought you had seen him smiling at you in the corner of the dark room of the boy's apartment. You chuckle at that thought. "The boy was very handsome, very very handsome... A pity he wasn't that good..."

"What can you ask from humans?", you laugh, clinking your glass now half full of wine with his, "but i'm sure you're not here to tell me how much you like watching me get fucked by cute boys, am I wrong?"

He laughs slightly, "You're right..."

"So, what's wrong?", you could see his eyes darken at the question, which made you worry a little bit. Jimin wasn't the type to get upset or annoyed by things that easily.

"I'm worried about you, y/n... I’ve been watching you...", you didn't need further explanation.

" I don't know what you are talking about, Jimin", of course you knew.

"Y/n... Stop trying to find him... He's older than you, more powerful, more cunning... He knows you're looking for him, he has known for the past 373 years... Stop wasting your time like that..."

"If you came here just to tell me to stop you can go through that damn door and go back to where you come from. He has to pay", you said, starting to feel your body heating up in anger.

"I know you're still in pain, but it has turned into an obsession, and he will always be ahead of you..."

"I know that! I've been behind him for years!", you yell. "Jimin, baby... it's been 20 years, please can't you just forget about that for a moment and recover lost time?"

"I know...We just worry about you, we don't want to see you ruin your existence on Taehyung...", he says warmly taking your hand in his.

"Jimin, I love you, you know that, right?", he nods, "So please, understand that I cannot stop, because what you can't understand and will never feel is the pain that I've been enduring for the past 400 years, it's more than physical pain, it's more than my scars. It's my whole self burning alive from the inside every damn day."

"I know... I just want to let you know that I care about you, and even though Taehyung is who he is, I understand, and I won't stop you... Just take it easy, for you. How long have you not enjoyed things?"

"Well, twenty minutes ago actually...", Jimin sighs and laughs,"I'm not talking about that kind of enjoyment"

You knew how worried he was, and you understood it. Him and the rest of the boys back home had seen you cry tears of blood and experiencing madness at its pure form for months after you fell into the Netherworld. You remember seeing Taehyung in your dreams and waking up screaming and debating yourself so hard that Yoongi and Namjoon had to go to your room and try to calm you down by force. These two... You also spent all these months hating them for that, for using force on you, for tying you to your bed and immobilizing you for hours. But when you finally accepted everything, the situation and your current life, you found yourself apologizing to them for making them go through a few rough months. At the end of the day, they had no other choices than trying to quiet you down, otherwise the Master himself would have taken care of you, and that wouldn't have been a pretty thing to see... Tortures in the Netherwolrd were never pretty...

You never understood why amongst all the demons, these men were the only ones that showed interest and care for you; the others would just stare at you like their future meal, or try to sneak out behind you, just for the fun of tormenting you. But soon enough, your friends showed you how to handle things, and most importantly, they showed you how to be aware of your own power, your own capabilities, which came in really handy as for the Netherworld as for the human world.

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You don't know how long you've been talking to Jimin now, it just feels right. You missed him so much and now him being here with you is the most amazing feeling ever.

"Are you going to leave?", you ask, sadness suddenly invading your body.

"Probably..."

"Where are you going to go this time?"

"Well", he sighs, "I have some place I want to visit, people I want to meet, you know, the usual... I don't really want to be bothered by unfortunate visits by the others so I was thinking about Madrid... or the Philippines... or even Hawaii..."

"These are... three completely opposite places", you laugh.

"Yeah... I would like to try my luck there though, remember I have all the time I want to discover and rediscover the world, just like I’ve been doing”

“I guess you always have new people to meet and new things to see... Crazy how the world can change in a few hundred years...”, sometimes you found yourself remembering how the world used to be like. How different and great it was, even though each era had its difficulties and wars, or even pandemics, each one had its charm... You kind of missed some of these eras.

You and Jimin stayed looking at each other for a while, in silence. You don't want him to leave and you know he doesn't want to leave either, but you know he has to. It's sad though, now that your best friend found you after almost 20 years, for him to leave like that... You hoped he would stay a few more days at least, but you also understand why he wants to leave so fast. No one wants to stay in the same place for too long.

“I’ve missed you, you know?”

“I know”, Jimin answers, taking your hand in his, “but I you know I’ve never liked this frenchie style of life...”

You both laugh looking at your apartment. It was indeed the most cliché apartment in the most cliché place on Earth. It was nice though.

“Just... Be careful... Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”, you ask.

“When did I stopped making stupid things?”

“That’s true...”, you laugh. At the end of the day, you guys were still demons; any thing you did didn’t matter, at least while you don’t piss the Master off, that would be the end of you. “Will you stay here for the day at least?”, without realising it, you suddenly turned into the cute boy you left alone in his room earlier this night, and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

“I guess I can... What about a tour of this beautiful and not full of piss at all city?”, he proposed, to which you accepted right away.

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

It was actually a great day. You and Jimin had been outside all day and it turned surprisingly well, or maybe it was the fact that you were finally reunited with your best friend that made everything look fine.

“I think I know this guy...”, Jimin suddenly said while looking at a painting in one of the many halls of the Louvre.

“Oh, come on! How can you know this random dude on a 250 years old painting?”; you laugh.

“Laugh all you want, darling. I think this guy died from the Plague and is still now to this day running naked through the Master’s mansion”

“You’re fucking playing with me! I’ve never seen this guy!”

“No, I swear! I took him infront of the Master and he went completely mad!”

You continued your walk through the museum while laughing and, even though it sounded crazy, talking about the people in the painting, actually recognizing a few of them. It was a random though that crossed your mind, but it was really crazy yet amazing how you knew at least half of these people, painters and painted, and humans had no idea.

“I tell you, if anyone knew that Van Gogh was busy doing lines with Pablo Escobar in Hell, they would be surprised!”, you say thinking about it.

You kept talking and walking with Jimin until noon, not seeing the time pass. You finished you visit in the museum, took an Uber and went straight to the Eiffel Tour park, since Jimin had insisted to go there to see how the Tour would light up just after eight o’clock, even though he had seen it in the past.

You would always get surprised by the amount of tourists that would be there for the same thing, fortunately, you found a free spot. Both of you sat there and just like that, Jimin took out a bottle of wine for you.

“I’ll start thinking you have an alcohol problem...”

“Yeah, probably, but who cares?”, he laughed before opening the bottle like a pro, “honors to the ladies...”

You took a sip of the red wine, suprised by the taste. It was different, you weren’t a wine expert but you could tell it was an expensive one.

“Why do you look at me like that? If we’re going to get drunk at the feet of the Eiffel Tour, at least let’s do it with luxury...”, the dark haired boy took the bottle.

“Do you know anything about the others?”; you ask after a few minutes admiring the view.

Jimin took a deep breath and started looking through his memories, “Well, I don’t really know much. I haven’t seen them in a few years now...”

“Same... Last time I saw Jin was at an ABBA concert... 1982 I believe...”

“Ah... ABBA 1982 in Wembley Arena... What an epic concert...”

“Surely was...”, you chuckled, “But yeah, that was the last time... From what he told me Hoseok had apparently left for India in 1974 and never appeared again, so I assume he stayed there for a while, and maybe he’s still there; Jungkook was permanently staying in the United States, he got there in 1953 after touring through Europe; Namjoon, strangely, ended up being present for the sinking of the Titanic in 1912, thing that I am strangely not surprised about, he obviously survived to it and directly went to America; and Yoongi, no one knew about him, everybody started losing his tracks around 1834 when he sailed for an unknown destination...”

“Well... I can tell you that Jungkook and Namjoon are indeed still in America, from what I know Jungkook is kind of a famous social media influencer or something like that... Namjoon is currently working in a big advertising company... And for the rest, I know Jin is now in Japan, but I’m not really sure why though; and for Hoseok and Yoongi, no idea... I last saw them together in 1998 I think, they apparently missed me and wanted to grab some coffee all three of us and talk about the past, and them they just vanished again”

You were not really surprised to hear that, Hoseok and Yoongi had always been the most secretive ones when it came to their private life in the human world. They showed you and educated you a LOT too, but never went too far into explanations or anything. Obviously you loved them so much too, but you weren’t surprised at all about what Jimin just said.

“I guess Jungkook and Namjoon would be the easiest ones to get in touch with then...”

“Yeah. If you want to see them or call them you know they would always answer”

After a minute of thinking, you kind of felt bad about not really knowing anything about your friends, and it felt even worse that another friend had to update you. You knew how they were, you knew that seeing the circumstances of literally everything, everyone would have went their way. But it felt weird, you guys were so close once and now everybody was separated, ad two of them were basically missing.

“Don’t think about it too much, I can see smoke going out of your ears”, Jimin’s voice took you out of your own head, “You know they still love you”

“I know”, you sigh, “It’s just that I feel bad about not being there for them or not knowing about them...”

“Y/n... We’re fucking demons, and we’re way older than you, don’t you think we couldn’t sneak out and literally just spy on you whenever we want to?”

That... was actually true.

You never really realized that, because you couldn’t really use that power, so you just forgot about it. But if Jimin could appear just like that in a random room while you were having fun with someone, without making a noise, you supposed any of them could.

“Why spy on me when you can knock on my door and take me out or something?”, you asked; for you it was obvious, it wouldn’t make sense to spy on someone or take care of them in the distance or make random objects in their rooms to manifest their presence, like they did in the past.

“You know how they are, they’re enjoying their stay here, they’re just doing their thing, just they want to make sure you’re okay without intervining in your life just like that”

“I guess... I miss them though...”

And it was true, you missed them more than anything.

“Stop being sad and get up”; your friend said after a few moments of silence.

“What? Why?”

“We’re going to get fun”, he extended his hand and you didn’t even had time to think, you just took it and followed him to the nearest metro.

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You could feel yourself float to the sound of J Balvin’s voice. The discotheque was full of people and you were having the time of your life; way funnier than you going hunting alone...

Jimin and you had your eyes on a group of boys for a while now, and you were playing with them in the distance, teasing them. You obviously knew all of this was a show, because you both had them in your pocket since the first moment you entered the party, but like a lion with a gazelle, you liked watching your prey from far and play with them a little bit.

It didn’t need much for you to be stamped against the wall of the small bathroom by one of the boys with your dress up your ass. You assumed Jimin was having his fun with one of them too, so you didn’t worry too much about him, you just let yourself flow. The guy was handsome, just like the perfect mix between a young Johnny Depp and Keanu Reeves, exactly your type. And fortunately, you could see he knew what he was doing... But bad luck to you, I didn’t last as long as you wanted.

You adjust your dress, leave a last kiss on the Johnny Depp guy and leave the bathroom, looking for your friend. He apparently finished earlier than you because he was already half done with his drink.

“So?”, he ask.

“Well, let’s say I had my fun... What about you?”

“Nice guy...”, he smirks, “Come on, it’s getting late”

You could understand how what you guys were doing with people was not exactly THE THING to do for humans, they had more morals than you when it came to that, and during your life you had had bunches of arguments with passenger friends about that, but that’s just how things are. You know who you are, you know the power you have, you don’t care, that’s it, end of the conversation.

It was nearly 4.30AM when you got out of the discotheque, the streets being full of drunk people either puking or singing with their friends.

“Y/n...”, your friend called you; you didn’t realized he stayed behind you, “I have to go now...”

“Already?”, you fake cry.

“Hawaii is not the nearest place from here, you know?”

“So you’re going for Hawaii then?”

“Yeah I think so... You know you can always come visit me...”, he pulled you for a tight hug.

You knew it wasn’t really a goodbye, it was more like a “see you soon”, but you couldn’t help feel horribly sad, and you hated that feeling. The only ones capable of making you feel what you call “human emotions” were your six friends. And you hated them for that.

“Thank you for today though, I had the best day I’ve ever had in a long time”, you smiled against his chest.

“Same for me... I’ll miss you... But seriously, come visit, I won’t be able to not see my best friend for another 20 years, I’ll go mad before that”

He laughs and when he starts pulling his body away from yours, you know it’s the goodbye.

“I love you, okay?”, he says. “I know, I love you too...”

And before crossing the street and disappearing behind a building, he gave you a last passionate kiss that left you hungry for more. It was your ritual, a last goodbye kiss that meant that you’d see him again.

Yes, Jimin was your best friend, but you couldn’t deny the numerous feelings between you two, just like with the other five. But you just couldn’t let them flow. It’s not that you didn’t want to, it’s just how things are. One of the punishments of the Netherworld were to not being able to properly love someone. You felt love for Jimin, of course you did, but not the love you WANTED to. It was a big difference, what you wanted to do and what your body was able to do. And while you felt bad about it in the past, you have it like it’s the most normal thing in the world now; but still, you couldn’t stand the image of Jimin leaving you.

MASTERLIST

#bts #bts series #angel on fire #aof #bts x reader #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #namjoon #yoongi #hoseok #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fic #bts imagine

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valentino-red · 5 years ago

Text

sinnerman

Chapter 1

coney island queen

Why Sol didn’t just walk out of the cineplex after Murray asked her to choose what ‘movie’ to star in was beyond her. Not taking part of all this madness was the smart, rational thing to do-- and then she saw tawny eyes across a smoky room, and suddenly she forgot what it meant to be rational.

Nicky Valentino. It was obvious that he was a gangster. There was something in the way he looked across the room that spoke of a man protecting his spot at the top. Then there was his cousin, Ralph della Rosa, who was acting much too cautious to just be ordinary family. And finally, Floyd Capo; he stunk so much of tobacco that Sol’s late grandfather, who himself smoked cigars, would have blanched.

“You gotta get your arms around this lifestyle and embrace it.”

Sol snorted. Only a person with one and a half braincells wouldn’t figure out what lifestyle Floyd was talking about. If Sol was smart, she would run to the nearest church and beg to enter a convent.

But she was still stunned by the roses in her room and the gorgeous breakfast. It was embarrassing to realise just how easily she was won over by opulence. These were things that she didn’t let herself enjoy in the twenty-first century; her bed was way too soft to be comfortable, and the housekeeping staff was suspiciously polite. Sol remembered her old room fondly; a cheap mattress on the floor for a bed, a threadbare blanket to fight the heat of tropical nights, and instant coffee to go with a piece of pan de sal, her favorite bread.

“Miss Diaz? Mr. Valentino is on the line.”

Sol looked up from the cup of coffee she was drinking. The bellhop, standing as though he were a statue, gestured at the old-fashioned telephone. “He wishes to speak to you.”

Nodding, Sol took the telephone receiver from the bellhop.

“Good morning, love. Hope I didn’t wake you.”

Sol didn’t notice the smile on her face when she heard Nicky’s voice. “Don’t worry about it; I’ve been up since five.”

“Oh?” Nicky’s voice was smooth like scotch. “Had a hard time sleeping?”

Sol rolled her eyes. “Force of habit,” she replied. “I rise with the sun.”

“A man would reckon that a broad like you got a lot of beauty sleep.”

She couldn’t help but snort. “Yeah, and I bet you’ll find my eye bags real attractive.” Soledad took another sip of her coffee. “Anyways, thanks so much for the breakfast. I don’t think I’ll be able to walk today.”

“That good, huh?”

“I usually have a piece of bread in the morning, so this was really… a lot. Makes me wonder if someone has ulterior motives for the food and flowers.”

“Maybe someone was trottin’ around like a horse’s ass last night, and wanted to apologize.”

Sol laughed, a deep sound from her belly. “Don’t worry about it, Nicky. I understand.”

“Well. I just wanted you to know when I tell you ‘I’m sorry,’ I really mean it. I know I was out of line leaving you in the cold like that, but it couldn’t be avoided.”

The grin on her face couldn’t be helped, and Sol felt her face heat up.

“Thanks, Nick,” she said. “But really, I know that men like Floyd can be difficult. Besides, Ralph set me up in a really fancy place. Sorta makes me wonder if a certain someone would need to rob a bakery after he sees my bill.”

Nicky laughed at the other end of the line. “Don’t worry about it, kid.”

“Are you sure?” Sol smiled. “I’m pretty great at worrying.”

“And I’m pretty great at making money.” Sol could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “How about the flowers? I was dreaming about you all night, so I woke up at the crack of dawn to pick each one.”

“Nicky,” she said. “I don’t think I have a heart anymore. It just melted.”

He laughed again, and Soledad imagined him-- the brunette hair in a razor cut, tawny eyes crinkling at the corners and sparkling in dim lights. The way he tilted his head back to let out a laugh. She wanted to make him laugh again.

“I’m afraid that I’ll have to let you go for now, toots,” Nicky said. The smile in his voice was still there. “Enjoy your breakfast and meet me outside in an hour. Capisce?”

Soledad suddenly realised that she had no clothes, and only a small makeup bag that she had in the purse she was carrying to the cineplex. She sighed.

“Capisce.”

She handed the telephone over to the bellhop, mind still running. The majority of the hotel staff were still in the room, trying to look like they weren’t eavesdropping. Oh, well-- it couldn’t be helped.

“Mr…”

“Jonathan Smith, at your service,” the bellhop said.

“Mr. Smith, I have a few requests,” Soledad said. “First, I was wondering if you could procure me a fresh set of clothing-- in yellow, if available. Please charge it to the room. And if I could have a fresh cup of coffee, that would be wonderful.”

Jonathan Smith, the bellhop, did a small bow. “Of course, Miss Diaz. And how would you like your coffee?”

“Black, Mr. Smith.”

“No sugar or cream, Miss Diaz?”

“Have you broken up with a lover before, Mr. Smith?”

“Yes, madam,” he said in a straight face. Sol nodded in approval at his professionalism.

“I want the coffee to be as black as your ex’s soul.”

Jonathan Smith’s stoic demeanor broke into a grin. “I see, Miss Diaz. Your clothes and coffee will be brought to you right away.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Smith. And do take a croissant. If I try to eat everything, perhaps the bed will become too small for me.”

Even when the bellhop left, Soledad chatted a bit with the remaining staff. By the end of it, two other busboys got their own shares of roses to give their wives, and the maids had a sample of some of the food. As Sol went to the bathroom to take a quick shower, she felt a little bit confident that maybe her telephone call with Nicky wouldn’t be the talk of the Waldorf Astoria’s help that afternoon. Or at the very least, they wouldn’t say that she was a bitch.

***

Ralph didn’t expect Soledad to be chatting his head off about the Rolls Royce’s specs, and he didn’t expect her to clean up so well. She was in a yellow dress with long sleeves and a sailor style collar, curly black hair brushed neatly, framing her long face. The kid wasn’t Ralph’s style in any stretch of the imagination-- she had a face that could have been a man’s-- but he could see how Nicky would fall for her. She was sun touched and radiant. When the kid walked, it was as if she had already conquered the world.

The plan had been to let the kid in, and to drive off to Nicky’s surprise, but the girl had been talking his head off about the car for a minute already.

“Listen, Sol,” Ralph said, cutting off another of her questions. “The Royce is a sweet ride, and the sooner you get in the back seat, the sooner you can see how she drives.”

Jesus, he thought to himself. And I thought I liked cars.

Sol slipped into the backseat, and the sudden luxury of the car’s interiors flooded her senses. The seats were in a plush camel colored leather, with intricate flower embroidery. She ran her hand on the seat, looking up to see a certain someone looking at her with warm eyes.

“There she is,” Nicky Valentino said. “The sweetest of the sweet.”

Soledad did her best not to blush. She failed. “Hello to you, too.”

She settled into her seat, trying not to notice how close she was to Nicky. It was a bit crazy; she had hung around good looking men in bespoke suits before, and never had she felt as woozy as she did now.

“You sure did take your time out there with Ralph, didn’t ya, toots? Made me sorta feel like you were a bit sore about last night and was tryna not see me.” Soledad rolled her eyes. “Your car is beautiful, Nicky. And frankly, I’d kill to take her for a spin.”

“Oh, yeah? You’re only finding the car beautiful?”

There was a challenge in his eyes, and Soledad couldn’t help her raised brow. Nicky was smirking at her, a blush on his face, and it was obvious that he was fishing for compliments. She wouldn’t give him any.

“Well, Ralph looks better in the daylight.”

The two men broke into laughter, with Soledad joining them after a beat. The mischief in Nicky’s eyes only became more pronounced.

“Hey,” Nicky said. “Just so that things are clear-- I really do feel bad for leavin’ ya on your lonesome last night. So what’d ya say? Would you let this sorry sap do something nice for you?”

“If you’re talking about lettin’ me have a spin, then absolutely,” she laughed. “But it’s still a yes for me with anything else. I’m not mad, Nicky. I’m really not.”

“Thank God,” he replied. “I’d drink to that. Hey, how about that? Care for a drink, sugar? They call these things mimosas.”

Soledad shook her head. “I would, Nicky, but I’m running on four cups of coffee. Liquor is the last thing I need. Besides, isn’t that illegal?”

“It’s illegal to drink. Period.” Nicky winked at her. “But you wouldn’t be here if it was, would you?”

“If it was legal to drink? What are you talking about?”

Nicky’s smile stretched to a Cheshire cat grin, the entirety of his focus on Soledad. If she felt lightheaded before, now Sol felt like she could faint.

“You think that guys like me are a dice roll away from getting bumped off or going to the big house. And I think there’s a part of you that likes that. Otherwise you wouldn’t have decided to be in this movie or whatever you think this is.”

The smile from Soledad’s face faded, and she couldn’t help but reach for Nicky’s hand. His eyes met hers, surprised by her sudden seriousness.

“Nicky, remember what you told me last night, when I gave you my hand?”

“I do,” he said. “You feel like home.”

Soledad nodded, lost in thought and looking at their now entwined fingers. “I’m in this for you, Nicky. I’m not here for the money, the power, or the thrill of it. If I wanted that, I would have stayed back home in the Philippines. But for some reason, I went back here to the past and met an amazing man that I feel I’ve known all my life. If anything, you being a gangster worries me more than it excites me.”

Nicky brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “There ain’t no reason for you to worry ‘bout me, sweet thing. I got ya by my side, and you’re my lucky charm.”

The ride continued on, with Nicky teasing her with his ‘surprise’, and the pair of them almost getting a poor puppy off the street. Soledad almost wanted to get it, before thinking that it might actually belong to someone else. Nicky had been a bit distraught at the thought of leaving the little thing by itself, but they continued on with their banter, with Ralph sometimes chiming in.

“Hey, Nicky,” she said, eyes flickering to his. “I was hoping that you’ll help me get something.”

“Alright,” he replied, without missing a beat. “What is it?”

“A job.”

“A job?” He raised his eyebrows at her. “Why would you want that?”

“Well,” Sol said. “I’m practically destitute--”

“No, you’re not.”

“Look, I’ve got no job, no home, and no money to buy my own food. I am destitute.”

Nicky frowned, clearly not liking the idea.

“Hey, Nick. It’s alright. I’ve got a wide skill set. I’ve got a degree in financial management and law-- I mean, it’s Filipino law, and the constitution I know is the 1987 version, but I’ve needed to do more readings anyway.”

“I don’t really think that you need to work, toots. Trust me, I’m more than capable of providing for you.”

Sol laughed, a sound that came deep from her belly. “A hotshot gangster like you. Of course you can.”

Nicky exchanged a look with Ralph, their mood sobering. Sol noticed the pair, snorting at their surprise.

“I ain’t no gangster, toots.”

Soledad shot him a dirty look, only a bit annoyed that he wasn’t coming clean. “I know a lie when I hear it, Nicky.”

He raised an eyebrow at her in response, but the mood got heavier anyway. “Look,” he said, voice dropping a few octaves lower. “I’m from a town with rules that cutthroats invented four hundred years ago in the old country. And I still got friends who think that’s the only way to live. But I ain’t one of them. I never broke the bank by breaking someone’s bones.”

“And Floyd Capo is one of those friends.”

“Yeah,” Nicky sighed. “Ya know, toots, before you showed up, I was a wheeler dealer who made his money in real estate and spent it faster than he could count it. I ain’t no gangster.”

“That was a weak close,” Soledad sighed. “You’re not exactly subtle. Anybody that knows what a mobster is could tell, Nicky.”

“Huh. You wasn’t so prickly last night.”

“I was boozed out, confused and touch starved.”

“And now?

She smiled. “Caffeinated, confused, and touch starved.”

“And why is a pretty lady like you so prickly?”

Sol snorted, looking out the window. “You don’t get to be single for twenty-nine years without a bit of paranoia.”

Nicky was going to say something until he caught her reflection in the mirror. Her eyebrows were drawn tight, and her mouth was set in a thin flat line. There was something that was bothering her, and he wanted to know what it was. He squeezed her hand.

“Hey,” Nicky said as she looked up at him. “You got me, kid. Before you waltzed into that speakeasy, I was a mobster with the world at my feet. And now I’m something completely different, ‘cos of you.”

“And what are you now?”

Nicky smiled at her and it put all the stars in the world to shame. “Now, I’m a romantic.”

***

When they got to Coney Island, Soledad’s face lit up like the Hollywood sign. Nicky smiled down at her; the kid was so small she didn’t reach his shoulders. He could pick her up easy, like a child.

“Omigod, Nicky,” she squealed. “We have to ride everything.”

“I’m not quite sure I can handle the carousel, toots.”

Sol snorted. “‘Cos those horses are gonna take a bite off your ass.”

“Haha,” Nicky said, offering his arm. “You’re a riot, ya know that?”

She slipped her hand into his instead, and when he looked down at her in surprise, he caught her blushing. Nicky could feel his own ears heat up.

“I know,” Sol said. “I know.”

They spent the rest of the day going to the rides. Nicky liked the way Sol’s eyebrows raised when she noticed him bribing the ticketmasters. He had asked her about it, and with a shrug she replied that he grandfather would bribe his way out of speeding tickets all the time. Nicky had laughed, noticing the way Soledad would preen at the sound. By the looks of it, she enjoyed making him laugh. The thought made Nicky want to go to the nearest stranger and tell them that he was crazy for his little lady.

They went and rode the Ferris Wheel, with Sol still tucked under his arm. Her short black hair tickled, and he couldn’t help but smile at the feel of it.

Nicky thought that telling Sol about his sister would be a hard thing to do, but the doll was patient and understanding, giving him none of her pity and all of her empathy. She was quiet while he told her how they’d slip over to the rides, and how his sister spent a night in jail.

“My pops cleaned my clock fierce that night,” Nicky said. From their height in the Ferris Wheel, he could see the whole of Coney Island. “But that wasn’t what got me. It was that I abandoned my sister when she needed me the most.”

Nicky did his best to crack a smile. “But to save you from seeing a grown man get all misty eyes, I’m gonna save that story for another day.”

He threw his arms around Sol’s shoulder as the gondola swayed. She leaned into him.

“You know,” she said, “I don’t have any siblings. Sort of wish I do, but I had this little cousin, Micky, who was three years younger than I was, and at the time we lived close to each other. One day I saw him at an empty lot crying his eyes out, and he told me that his friends bullied him, telling him that he was a nobody and couldn’t do anything right. They told him that his family had no money, which was stupid because we’re were old money rich.”

Sol was looking at him, a fond smile on her face. “I took a stick and went to the kid’s house. Tampered with their water line. The next day, their house flooded. Man, my grandfather was so angry at me, I think I spent a good ten minutes under the belt. My tito was mad at me too. He never let me see Micky again.”

Nicky drew her closer to him. “I guess we’re really written in the stars, toots.”

She laughed, high in his embrace. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess so.”

The rest of the day was filled with banter. Nicky kept her under his arm, and she kept him laughing. They were strolling on the boardwalk, and he couldn’t help but notice the way her hair curled under her ears. She was blushing and fumbling over her explanation of how the bracelet was lost, but Nicky couldn’t care less. He used to think that the bracelet was important, but seeing her in the daylight and in his arms was worth fifty of those bracelets.

“Hey,” Nicky said. “I noticed that you ain’t wearing those rags you had on last night.”

Soledad blushed. “Oh, uh. Well, I figured that a hotel as swanky as the Waldorf had some clothes lying around.”

“And let me guess,” Nicky said in a deadpan. “I’m paying for it.”

She answered with a shrug. “What can I say? I don’t have a job, so you’ll have to be my keeper.”

“Then I guess you won’t be prickly when I tell you that ya don’t have to ask a hotel for new clothes no more.”

“Nicky,” she said, eyes wide. “Don’t tell me you bought me clothes.”

Nicky leaned against the railing in a knowingly devious pose, winking at her as the noon time sun made his tawny eyes look like molten gold.

“Let’s just say that your wardrobe is gonna be full of designer dresses, stilettos from France, diamonds, minks--”

Sol dropped her head on his solar plexus hard enough for it to almost hurt. On reflex, he put his arms around her. She hugged him back.

“Why are you spoiling me so much,” she mumbled into his shirt. “I just met you last night.”

“You don’t have to know someone to know that you want them.”

There was a true heat in his voice and gaze. Soledad swallowed hard as he pulled her close. They were just a few inches away from each other, and she could see the small mole under his left eyes and his beet red ears.

“‘Cause I know what I want.”

Soledad thought that they were going to kiss, until Ralph came up to them, coughing into his hand awkwardly.

“Sorry to break you two lovebirds apart,” he said. “But there’s some coppers by the docks.”

“There’s always going to be some flatfoots in this town,” was Nick’s answer. He sighed in frustration. Soledad took a few steps away from him to catch her own breath.

“They’re looking for you, Nick.”

In a few quick heartbeats, Nicky spilled out orders to Ralph, and the two of them were on the run. They were able to get past a few officers, but a big man in the blue uniform saw them and gave chase.

“Meet me at the alley, toots,” Nicky said, before sprinting away from the police officer. Soledad looked at the man grimly. She could outrun him, or she could buy Nicky some time.

“Hello, officer,” she said, as the burly man took a pair of handcuffs out.

“You’re under arrest.” His voice was gruff, and his moustache was severe. Soledad almost wanted to laugh; he looked like a caricature of a policeman.

“I want my rights read to me,” Sol replied. “Mainly because I have no idea what you’re arresting me for.”

“Nobody is reading anyone’s rights,” he said, handcuffing her. “Besides, I saw you with Valentino on the dock.”

“Then it’s your word against mine, Detective.” The man huffed. “I ain’t no detective. Just an honest officer doin’ his job, and you’re a no one, kid.”

“Then,” Sol said, “I’m really sorry that I have to do this.”

There were three things that she did in quick succession. First, she spun around and kicked him square in the jaw. He fumbled back, surprised. Then she kicked him again in the solar plexus, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Finally, she kicked the back of his knees, sending him to the ground in a loud thud. The policeman groaned in pain, and when he tried to get up, she kicked him in the stomach again.

“I’m a twenty-nine year old captain of the Philippine Commonwealth’s army, not some kid,” Sol said, foot on his chest. “And between you and me, there’s no such thing as an honest officer these days.”

She could see a familiar black beauty roll into the street-- it was Nicky’s Rolls Royce. Sol took her foot off the officer’s chest.

“Just for the record,” she said. “I’m retired. And we both know what retired army captains are asked to do by their governments.”

The officer’s eyes widened, and Sol resisted the urge to smirk. She was a professional, after all.

“I’m not on the wrong side of the law.” She stepped away from the police officer. “Anyway, if you want to get promoted, remember this: have as many good friends in high places. Stray dogs turn into hungry wolves very quickly.”

The officer groaned, trying to sit up. “Is that a threat, or a warning?”

“It’s advice,” she replied. Sol bit her lip as she looked at the officer’s broken nose. “I’m really sorry that I had to hit you,” she said, voice soft, “but circumstances called for it, Officer…”

“Marquez,” he replied. Soledad nodded.

“If I ever see you again, I hope you won’t try to handcuff me,” she said.

The older man grunted. “Try not to hang around shady characters, Captain, and then we’ll see.”

She gave a quick nod before jogging to the Rolls Royce. Ralphie opened the door for her, and Nicky gave her a look that turned her knees to jell-o. But this was a look that was heated for all the wrong reasons.

“So,” he said conversationally. “What does the government ask retired army captains to do?”

#fictif #tatw #nicky valentino #fanfiction #nicky valentino x oc #nicky valentino/oc #two against the world #pls go easy on me this is my first fic uwu

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skywalkerbc · 6 years ago

Text

Mads’ massive bellarke rec (pt.1)

So I’ve been asked a couple times to make a bellarke fanfiction rec list so here it is! (Okay so I realised that I had way too many bc our fandom is filled with so many talented authors so even though this is actually massive, there will be several parts)

(Also- I don’t know everyone’s tumblrs so if you know any of these author’s tumblr accounts, please lmk so I can link them properly!)

In no particular order, here are some of my all time fav blarke fics:

MODERN-VERSE AUS

I dreamed you a sin (and a lie) by monroeslittle

“If I do this,” Blake said, “how are you imagining it’s going to work? I can’t just knock on his door, and say I want in again. It’s been eleven years. And even before I left, I never cared about the business. Do you have a plan? You say you want me to open the door for an agent. How? What’s that mean?”

“You’re going to get in touch with your grandfather again at your wedding,” Clarke said.

He stared.

“I hope you don’t have a girlfriend, Mr. Blake.”

fake!married AU. Clarke's in the FBI, Bellamy's the grandson of a mobster, and they've got to work together.

Lines in the Sand by @fen-ha-fuck-you

“You looked like you were gonna hurl when you got up,” Raven said, pausing for a moment. “I’m not sure this is better.”

Clarke shook her head minutely, finally looking up at herself in the mirror. She quickly wiped away the tears that had fallen. She hadn’t even noticed. “I’m fine.”

“No,” Raven replied, her eyebrows scrunching together. “You’re not.”

“I just… had a little too much to drink. That’s all.”

“That why you’re strangling that poor sink?”

i’m not asking much of you by emmylou

When Clarke gets invited to her ex's wedding- her CHEATING ex's wedding- she knows she can't go alone. She's not dating anyone, so she has to find a boyfriend, real or fake, fast. Luckily, Octavia knows just the guy.

I’d Promise You Everything (But I’m Not Sure How Much Good There Is In That) by @talistheintrovert

Bellamy has never been a huge fan of Valentine's Day, but Clarke outright hates it. Her father died at the start of February when she was in high school, she found out her first boyfriend was cheating on her two weeks later, and then almost exactly a year after that, her girlfriend dumped her to travel around Asia.

But now they're in their 20s and Bellamy finally admitted that he loved her a few months ago. He knows this is the real thing and he absolutely knows that she feels the same way, but he also knows how miserable Clarke gets around Valentine's, and he's determined to cheer her up this time.

hold me in your beating heart by amberwoods

He’d got out of bed and walked to the nursery to console his youngest child. When he’d been shushing and cradling her for about twenty minutes, he noticed a silhouette hovering in the door opening. Clarke.

“I’ve got her,” he’d said softly, his voice rough with sleep, “Go back to bed.”

She just stood there. When he took a closer look, he noticed she had a strange expression on her face. She was looking at Madi.

“Clarke?” he asked carefully.

And There’s a Hand My Trusty Friend by Who_Needs_Reality

He sighs dramatically. “Can’t believe you’re not gonna let me kiss you until next year.” That sends a sudden, sharp jolt of sadness through Clarke, the realisation that they’re going to be spending another day spent pretending that she’s not his; it means ushering in their first year together… by, well, not being together.

Or, {NYE fluff where Bellamy and Clarke are together, but since they're keeping it a secret from their friends, they run into an unforeseen complication.}

A Little Bit of Something (God, It’s Better Than Nothing) by @grumpybell

“-Clarke.” He sounds alarmed, suddenly, none of the casual, arrogant, amusement that had been in his voice moments before. “What?” “Why is your mom calling me?” “Shit. Don't answer that. Listen, okay. She and I kind of got into an argument today-” “-what else is new?” “Shut up. Anyway, she told me she's getting married and there was just so much subtext about my failure at relationships and my lack of love life, and I might have told her I'm engaged too.” There's silence on the other end of the phone. “To you,” Clarke prompts.

I Don’t Need Your Love (I Just Need You Now) by @talistheintrovert

“What was the worst part?” Raven asked.

“Probably when he shoved me against a wall and stuck his tongue down my throat,” Clarke admitted, sipping her hot chocolate, which she quickly realised was spiked with rum. God, her friends were perfect.

Octavia and Raven both gasped, but it was Bellamy’s reaction that she found the most interesting. He didn’t say anything, didn’t look up from his book, or even alter his expression, but his hand balled into a fist on the arm of his chair.

OR: The AU where Clarke and Bellamy hate each other until Bellamy realises she's being mistreated, and does his best to protect her.

Come Close (And Then Even Closer) by sheryl_sems

Clarke thinks about Octavia and how her best friend had stormed out of the house earlier that day, furious at Clarke for taking her brother's side in their argument. She thinks about Raven, and Monty, and Jasper, and Wells, and Lincoln but in the end, she really only wants one person by her side and it's fruitless to fight herself on this one.

"Could you call Bellamy?" She finally says in a soft, hoarse whisper.

Or the one where Clarke is attacked and the only person she wants by her side in the aftermath is Bellamy Blake.

You Look Like a Movie. You Sound Like a Song. by lordmxrphy

She knows shouldn’t care. She and Bellamy were never together. They never dated. But for as long as Clarke can remember, Bellamy’s held her heart. Even if he’ll never know it.

(a modern au inspired by when we were young by adele)

What We Do to Each Other by marauders_groupie

A Bellarke AU in which Bellamy and Clarke are childhood best friends, separated by life and trying to relearn each other again.

A Symbol of Goodwill And Love by LayALioness

“So when you said we need a good tree, you meant,” he hedges, and she huffs, little clouds of steam escaping her mouth.

“One that needs a good home,” she says, like it’s obvious. “Shopping for a Christmas tree is like going to the pound—you don’t look for a purebred at the pound, Bellamy. You look for the puppy with a missing eye, or mange. One that needs us.”

“If this is code for wanting us to get a puppy,” Bellamy muses, reaching out to tug on the tassels of her hat. “I think we should probably live together, first.”

We Have to Stop Meeting Like This by @goldenheadfreckledheart

Tumblr prompt: “We both have friends who party too hard and we keep running into each other in the bathroom while we hold their hair back.”

Aka, the three times Bellamy and Clarke meet each other while taking care of their friends + the one time they don’t.

Christmas Sweaters by lightyears

Clarke's upset that she won't fit into her Christmas sweater this year. Bellamy surprises her with a new one.

Ladylike by Who_Needs_Reality

Bellamy stares at her. "You want me to make out with you. Platonically."

Clarke very resolutely does not panic. "Do it for the views, Bellamy."

(Or, an AU in which Clarke works for a Buzzfeed-esque company, and has to kiss someone in order to test lipstick durability for a new video. Feelings and decidedly non-platonic nonsense ensue.)

Love Is Not a Victory March by @asroarke

“You could have been here four years ago,” she reminded, raising her eyebrows at him.

“No, I couldn’t have. I needed to be here with you,” he replied, and Clarke felt like the breath had been knocked out of her. It wasn’t the first time he said something like that, of course. But it caught her off guard every damn time.

“Was it worth the wait?”

“Yes, you were,” he replied, and how could Clarke not kiss him after that?

Olympics AU where a knee injury kept Bellamy and Clarke from making it to the Olympics... the first time around.

the tie that binds me to you by glowinghorizons

“we’ve been pen pals for like hella months and we finally decided to meet up and damn you’re cute, also did you break up with your jerk bf/gf yet?” au

or:

bellamy and clarke finally meet after months and months of hand-written letters, phone calls and text messages.

you bring me honeysuckle by caramelle

It suddenly strikes Bellamy, one day, that his girlfriend is in possession of what has to be the best hair in the entire cosmos.

Or, the one where Bellamy's fixation with Clarke's hair is totally normal and healthy.

Walk With Me by arysa13

Bellamy is pretty sure you aren't supposed to hit on the people you're supposed to be getting home safely, but he kind of wants to anyway.

Prompt: Bellamy works at safe walk and Clarke keeps falling asleep studying. And is the last one to leave the library every night!

Sugar, Spice, and All Things Nice by Who_Needs_Reality

Clarke just really wants a peppermint mocha. Breaking into the apartment of her ex, with whom she may-or-may-not still kind of be madly in love, is an unplanned side effect. Mostly.

Based on the prompt "listen i know i can’t just show up at your apartment at six in the morning but i need coffee and no one makes it like you do”

time flies but you’re the pilot by @onemanbellarmy

“Wait a minute, your new art teacher is Clarke Griffin?”

Gus paused to consider. “I think so?”

A huff of a surprised laugh escaped Bellamy. He hadn’t talked to Clarke since college.

(or, single parent x child's teacher AU)

the girl next door by funfanfin

The first time he hears her, he’s making his grandmother’s afritada recipe, a dish that reminds him of long, lazy, hot summers in the Philippines.

The first time he learns her name is on a Tuesday so ordinary and average he wouldn’t have remembered it otherwise.

The first time he realizes he loves her is during the early hours of a cool morning, with her curled into his side.

-OR-Bellamy hears singing from the apartment next door. It isn't long before he meets the girl behind the smoky, haunted voice, and it isn't long before he learns the reasons for her sorrow-filled singing.

only fools rush in by @chants-de-lune

based on the tumblr prompt:

"just drove a guy home from a bar and for the whole 15 minutes he talked about how excited he was to see his wife"

the fuzziest of woodland creatures by tempestaurora

“it’s 2 in the morning and i was just trying to get home but i left my sunroof open all day and now there’s a squirrel in my car and it scared me and i drove into a pole – would you please stop laughing you’re a cop. you’re supposed to be helping”

Settling Debts by indygoh

"Um. Thank you. You didn't have to," she peeked up at him, suddenly shy for some reason. "I can pay you back."

Bellamy just chuckled, already shaking his head before she could finish her sentence.

"I've got a little sister. She probably would have kicked my ass if she found out I didn't do something to help you out back there."

Clarke raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Do you always rescue strange girls in desperate need of tampons?"

"Only the really cute ones with crowns on their butts."

when love hits (better make it worth the fall) by kay_emm_gee

Summary: Four times Clarke gets hit on the head (+1 time she doesn't) during her last semester of high school, and every single time, Bellamy Blake is somehow involved.

Turn the tide on my losing side by Lalalli

Clarke doesn’t know why Thelonius Jaha keeps posting really random shit to her Facebook wall, but whatever. It’s fine. It was weird at first, but she’s used to it now.

And then Bellamy gets involved and it gets weird again.

My Soft Place to Land by Who_Needs_Reality

Bellamy's happy to be back. He's even happier to see who's waiting for him.

{Or, soldier!Bellamy comes back home after being deployed and meets someone special}

We Keep it a Secret (You Leave Me Dying to Know) by @ringsabellamy

Bellamy doesn’t claim to be the greatest at dating, especially considering he’s been quietly in love with his best friend for the past six years, but hey, at least he’s been /trying/ to get over her. Not, of course, that this current situation is helping.

Or: Bellamy just asked Clarke to fake being his girlfriend for one date, honest. But then things got a little...out of hand.

If You Like Your Coffee Hot by marauders_groupie

They haven't been friends for a very long time but Bellamy still can't ignore Clarke acting out and getting into fights when she was a model student just a few months ago. They might’ve kept each other at distance for years but she is still his first best friend.

Calm my tears, Kill these fears by @goldenheadfreckledheart

Prompt: I somehow always get you as a cashier at Walmart and it's always when I’m buying the weirdest shit at the weirdest time. “A head of lettuce at 3am?” "It's a long story”

bit of a disaster, aren’t we? by katsumi

Clarke breaks her ankle and really would prefer that Bellamy not find out about it. She has a feeling he's going to get mad. (She's right.)

~~~

CANON-VERSE AUS

Meet Me in the Morning by monroeslittle

“I guess one of us is messed up,” he said, “and it’s part of our hallucination that the other is, too.” He paused. “Seems appropriately hellish that my mind sticks me with you.”

She pursed her lips. “Likewise.”

AU. Clarke is trapped in a stupid time loop, and guess who's trapped with her?

I Miss Our Little Talks by @chants-de-lune

“Wow,” she breathed out. “I thought that one would have done me in.”

Bellamy didn’t smile, shaking his head and taking the slightest edge of coldness off his glare.

“You took a bullet for me.” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t ever do that again.”

Today is Dying by theprincessandtheking

“Look, sorry, but it’s an emergency,” Harper said, eyes firmly fixed on the wall ahead of her.

The tea he’d downed at the bar was still in his system, as evidenced by the way the room spun when he reached for his shirt a few feet away and struggled to pull it over his head.

“So much of an emergency that you couldn’t knock?”

“It’s Clarke.”

That I Will Never Escape by @talistheintrovert

“Execute me; I poisoned you. Let Clarke live."

“Very well,” Octavia raised a hand and a soldier with a gun pointed it down at him. He steeled himself for the bullet that would end his life, but before it left the chamber, Clarke yelled out.

“No!”

He jumped, surprised, when she moved suddenly, and he registered in his periphery as she snatched the sword from the floor and spun it in her hand deftly.

“Clarke, what are you doing?” Bellamy frowned, his gaze switching to her, but a part of him already knew. His body was reacting to it before his brain could catch up – he felt his breath catch in his throat, and his heart-rate speed up.

we were nothing more than stardust by cresswell

"I'm going to kill that bastard," he says quietly, bent close to Clarke's ear. "He's not going to touch you again, and I'm going to kill him."

Her pinkie finger extends, brushing the waistband of his jeans, and he carefully pushes their palms together, lacing their fingers. He thinks she smiles in her sleep.

Love is Not a Whisper (or a weakness) by monroeslittle

"There was a strange, muffled snap, and the tentacle around her middle was retracted. The hold on her ankle was gone, and Bellamy was pulling her up through the water. She began to pump her arms, and they broke the surface; she gasped, and coughed.

He pressed a gun into her hand. “If you see a ripple, shoot,” he ordered."

AU. The dropship doesn't land on land. The next seven years are a little bit different.

Astraphobia by @chants-de-lune

The fear of thunder and lightning. In other words, rainy day cuddling with a bit of angst.

Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat by islabbe

There was blood everywhere; some of it red, but most of it was black. Bellamy wrinkled his nose at the metallic smell as it filled his nose. Pushing down the reflex to gag, he quickly made his way over to the tent.

“Clarke, stay with me,” he said gruffly, his voice straining as bent down to enter hers and Madi’s tent. She was drifting in and out of consciousness and Bellamy knew the longer he dawdled, the less time she had.

We Can’t Leave Us Behind by @ringsabellamy

"I don’t blame you for that, not anymore. I understand why you had to leave. But it still hurt, Clarke. And I guess...I think your goodbye reminds me of how I felt. Of what it was like to lose you.”

“The kiss,” she says, eyes full of sudden realization. “You think when I kiss you, it means I’m going to leave you.”

Or: Bellamy has a lot of healing to do, one try at a time.

Set The Dark On Fire by @talistheintrovert

Clarke isn't coping well with peacetime on the Eligius ship, and while Bellamy has woken some of the others (mainly spacekru) and tries to organise a trip to the ground, making decisions and considering all the variables, Clarke makes a choice of her own:

She'll take herself out of the equation.

OR: the post season 5 idea I had to write because all of the unresolved emotional turmoil this season is actually killing me and someone needs to notice that Clarke is in pain, for the love of god.

for everything unsaid (there is a flourish of my pride) by theprincessandtheking

“I don’t know,” he says. “I guess I just didn’t really care either way anymore.”

She pauses, and from the corner of his eye he can see the odd expression on her face.

“So in the middle of wartime, when everything is going to hell around us, shaving is still a priority. But you spend six years with all the free time in the world for it, and suddenly you don’t care?”

He tries to smile at the joke, but he thinks it comes out as more of a grimace.

“I guess down here it was more of a sense of normalcy,” he explains. “But with you gone—”

He pauses, clears his throat in an attempt to keep his voice steady.

“Without you there, nothing really felt normal.”

I can never be alone when all gods keep calling me out by angel_deux

Raven fixes the radio after a few years, and Clarke can talk to them again.

they will see my strength (in this love i’ve found) by glowinghorizons

“If you’re married they won’t let you go alone.”

The silence is deafening. Bellamy braces himself for the slap he knows is going to come his way any second, but it never happens.

“You--” she sounds breathless. “You don’t even know me.”

Bellamy shrugs. “Look. I-- this is crazy. I know. I just know that I can’t let my sister go to the ground without me.”

OR, Clarke finds out she's being sent to the Ground only days after her Dad dies. Bellamy is determined to go to the Ground with his sister. They need to fool everyone to make it work.

Like a Second Heart by Who_Needs_Reality

She’s hardly surprised, the first few times it happens. The hallucinations are vivid, but not long, not much, just short, staccato bursts of him, tiny pieces to keep her going -- his hand extended out to her to help her up from the rubble, his voice a soothing murmur in her ear telling her she’ll be alright until she finds water… of course she sees him, of course she hears him. It’s Bellamy -- who else would her mind conjure up to help her survive? There are worse symptoms praimfaya has left her with than a few too-real imaginings of her best friend after all.

{Clarke's not worried when she starts to hallucinate Bellamy. It's only when the dreams continue to haunt her even after the real Bellamy comes back that she's concerned}

We Sure Know How to Run by winterwaters

While attempting to get Jaha farther from the AI and the nuclear warhead, Clarke, Murphy and Emori run into trouble from another tribe and Clarke is injured. Bellamy and his group happen to be following that tribe and help take care of her. On the way home, she confronts her feelings for Bellamy - with a bit of help from Emori.

darling, just hold my hand by killianslonghaul

“I know you don’t like public displays of affection, but… you’re really not going to kiss me goodbye?”

Bellamy doesn't really do PDA, but he might make an exception.

baby on board by katebishop

As a soon-to-be father, Bellamy thinks he's feeling the appropriate amount of worry and concern for his pregnant wife.

Clarke thinks he's utterly ridiculous.

~~~

Other AUS

Forbidden Words by onceuponahundred

we’re in between classes, and we both hear a fourth year calling a first year a mudblood, and neither of us are having any of that prejudiced bullshit. unfortunately, my impulse was to hex them, and yours was to punch them in the face, and my jelly-legs curse hit you instead, i’m really sorry, and we both are probably getting detention now, but hey, plus side, you’re kind of cute

{Bellarke in Harry Potter}

Name One Hero Who Was Happy by Who_Needs_Reality

Clarke huffs again, and he glances at her.

“The Curse of Achilles, Bellamy? Do you know how risky that was?”

“I got the idea when I felt my soul being torn from my body.”

She sniffs, imperious. “How did you do it?”

“Huh?” Her voice is smaller when she speaks again. “How did you...not get your soul...y’know?”

“Oh,” he swallows. “I had some help.”

{Bellarke in a Percy Jackson/The Last Olympian AU}

Don’t Think I Want What I Used to Want by arysa13

Bellamy has a compass that points to what his heart most desires, which, as a pirate, must be treasure, obviously.

can’t control my feelings, can’t control my thoughts by katsumi

When Jasper accidentally gifts Clarke a love potion, everyone she interacts with starts acting...weird. Everyone, that is, except Bellamy. [Hogwarts AU]

~~~

#bellarke fanfiction #bellarke #The 100 #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #there's a looooott #this should keep you busy for a while lmao #(there will be more parts)#(I have read wayyyy too much blarke fic)#also i am so super sorry if the continue reading link breaks oml #that would be so much scrolling lmao #im sorryyy #but bellarkeeeee #mads fic recs

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

Text

811

What do you like to drink in the morning? I’m not really a drinks person and I’m fine having all my meals with just water. I like coffee, but I usually drink it in the afternoon or at night. What color is your favorite hoodie? Don’t have one. My favorite sweater is gray though. Do you have a string of lights in your room? No. I remember wanting those as a teenager but I figured it was such a waste of electricity just to make my room look a little cuter, so that turned me off from the idea lol. Do you know what you are going to do today? Yeah, well today I was going to finally register for a social security number online, but given that I’m from the Philippines and the government only gives their 15% in everything they do, the website is absolute garbage and I can’t get past the first step of the process. Not surprising anymore. Other than that, I don’t have anything else to do. Does your heart hurt? My heart is missing so many people at the moment, but it’s not really hurting.

Who is not in your life that you wish was? I wish that my late maternal grandfather was still alive, if he counts. Who hurt you last? Probably Gabie. She doesn’t have a good hold of her emotions when she’s mad and tends to spit out hurtful things without thinking if it would affect me. I plan to have a talk with her about it once we can see each other again because it’s beginning to suck. Can you see the moon out your window right now? Continuing this survey four hours later, except now I’m tipsy as fuck haaaaaa. I dunno, I probably won’t be able to. It’s been raining all day and evening so I might only see clouds if I look out.

What makes you feel inspired? Seeing other people with insanely good work ethic. Are you mad at a friend right now? Nope, no reason to be. Do you have a friend who hurt you and doesn't care? I mean I’m pretty sensitive, so yeah I’ve had some friends say stuff to me that they probably didn’t think anything of, but hurt me in actuality. Is your room clean? Sure, it’s not too cluttered at the moment or anything like that. Can you see the sunrise from your window? No, it doesn’t happen on my side of the house. If you were a writer, would you have a pen name or use your real name? I’d use my real name. Idk, I’ve always found pen names to be a tad bit confusing. Did you go to Goodwill yesterday? I didn’t, and I don’t, because we don’t have whatever that is here. What is your friend's cat's name? I don’t have friends who have cats. Do you celebrate your pet's birthdays? Continuing this survey 15 hours later because I was too dizzy to continue typing, lmao. I typically buy him a dog-friendly cupcake from the pet supply store at the mall near my school, and I serve him more food than usual for lunch and dinner. March is a busy month for me with school and stuff, so I haven’t gotten the chance to throw him a party. :( As a kid, did you celebrate your dolls' birthdays? (if you're a girl) I never liked playing with dolls. But no, I didn’t celebrate the ‘birthdays’ of my other toys. None of them lasted that long with me anyway haha. Are you wearing a hoodie right now? Nope. It’s chilly right now, but it’s not wear-a-hoodie cold. Did you ignore the last facebook post that bothered you, or did you comment? I had to ignore it because it was from my grand-aunt, and old people like to throw fits when you call them out so it was going to be a waste of my time if I commented. Do you need to go to the pharmacy today? No, no need for meds anymore yaaaaaay. Are you realizing that one of your friends isn't a real friend? Not at the moment. I’m happy with the circle I currently have. What was the name of one of your stuffed animals as a kid? I didn’t like stuffed animals either. This is more of my sister’s turf. Do you have a car? If so, did you give it a name? I do have a car but I’ve never given it a name. With my dad having plans to sell it soon, I’d rather it stay nameless for the remaining time it has with me so that I don’t get any more attached to it. If you were a famous singer, what would you want your hit song to be about? I’d want it to have an important message so I’ll probably write something about the bullshit that the government keeps pulling on us.

Did you skip church last week? No, unfortunately my mom makes us watch YouTube recordings of masses from a certain church. I usually hold up one of our couch pillows so that I don’t have to see the TV screen, but nevertheless I’m part of the audience and 30-45 minutes of my time are always wasted every Sunday. Do you have any big regrets? Just one big one. If you had to re-design an alien, instead of making them green with slanty-eyes and an egg-shaped head, what would you make it look like? I’m not creative enough for this question, so pass Do you have anyone who loves you, besides God? Do you have anyone who cares about you, besides God? Do you have anyone who you can go to for support? Yes, there’s a number of people I can think of. Do you normally write in cursive or print? Print, I write faster that way. Does your heart ache for something? Right now I’m kinda wanting pizza actually lol. Do you fit the millennial stereotype? I’m not even a millennial, dude. Would you want your first child to be a boy or a girl? Girl. I don’t want sons. If you were to write an article for a magazine, what would it be about? I’m in the mood to write an opinion piece about, again, the government. Do you have a blog? I have this Tumblr but it’s really more of a journal than anything else, so no, I wouldn’t say that I have an active blog. I did have several classes where our projects required us to make blogs and I never deleted those, so those blogs are still up albeit untouched for years now. If you were to start a blog, what would your first post be about? I can see myself starting a food review blog where I journal all the restaurants I dine in. Do you think you are good at writing poetry? I absolutely suck at it and hate when I’m required to make poems. Have you ever tried a science experiment that didn't work? I don’t think so. Have you ever had a teacher who looked like an alien? I dunno what an alien is supposed to look like but I also haven’t had a teacher who I thought looked weird. Do you take gummy vitamins? Not since I was 14 or 15. Are your feet wide? No. At least I don’t think they are lol. If you could do research right now for an essay, what topic would you choose to right about? Welp today is our Independence Day, so keeping in line with the timing it’d be nice to do a paper on something about Philippine history. What are your strongest attribute? Personally, I like the fact that I’m detail-oriented. That trait has been responsible for presentable Powerpoints, has saved otherwise careless co-workers, and has made sure that all research, written articles, etc. are free from critical errors, be it in data or grammar. Have you ever been tempted to commit a crime? Of course. I think we’ve all been tempted to do something like that at least once. Have you ever started writing a suicide letter? I’ve written a couple ones throughout the years. ...and then realized you wanted to live? No. Do you know anyone who had to evacuate for the latest hurricane? Not the last typhoon, no. But my friends in Marikina have had to evacuate for past calamities many times because they live right beside a river, and one that easily overflows at that. Do you write letters to friends? Only for special occasions, like for Christmas, retreats, if they were graduating, etc. Do you like to write letters? I do but it can get so tiring, especially because I prefer handwriting my letters. I used to write 40+ handwritten letters, one for each of my classmates, every year when we would go on retreat. The practice was super tiring though so now I typically just write letters for Gab. As a kid, did you find diagramming sentences fun? The what sentences??? I’ve no clue what you’re talking about. Whatever those are, I’m positive we never did that in school. What is your dream? Money. Where would you travel if you could? I’d go absolutely everywhere, but I’d start by finishing off Asia first. When it comes to traveling, I’ve always imagined myself taking my sweet time going local first before venturing out to farther countries. That being said, I’d love to go to Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia, and Brunei. Do you feel all alone in the world? No. Do you own a piece of jewelry with an owl on it? Haaaaaaaaa, no. That’s such a Tumblr-in-2010 trademark. I did have owl stuff before, though. If you have a class ring, what color is the stone? Not a thing here. Does looking at the starry sky make you feel peaceful? It does. But if I’m really hellbent on feeling peaceful, I’d rather look at either a skyline at night OR into the sea during the day. Do you have a pen pal? If not, would you ever want to have one? No and no. Like I said, I’m pretty much retired from handwritten letters after writing 40+ of them every single year for around a decade lol. Do you drink hot chocolate? Only La Creperie’s San Gines hot chocolate. Sometimes I’ll drink hot chocolate at hotels too. Do you like apple cider hot or cold? I don’t drink that. Are you hurt by something a friend did to you recently? No, none of them have done or said something hurtful to me lately. Are you under 30? Yeup. Have you made a "30 Things to Do Before I'm 30" list? No. I don’t like keeping myself under a deadline. Do you paint rocks and hide them in your town? I’ve never done that before. Do you have a secret crush? Nope, am very vocal about my crush heh. What was the name of your first crush? Andi. Have you ever had a crush on a teacher? Yes, groan. Do you like parodies? Not always. Some of them can be a little too cheesy for my liking. Are you a Taylor Swift fan? Not a chance. Have you ever kissed a picture? I probably have. Do you use window clings (stickers for your window)? No. Do you decorate for fall? We don’t have fall. What do you want to be for Halloween this year? Not really sure yet...I don’t even know if we’re getting Halloween this year. Has suicide crossed your mind a lot lately? [trigger warning] Not these days, and I’m really thankful for that. I’ve self-harmed twice during the course of the quarantine and while that’s disappointing at least I haven’t thought about being dead, and that’s what matters to me. Do you have supernatural abilities? ............No. Do you get enough hugs? Definitely not these days. I haven’t been hugged since March. I think I might cry when I get my first one. What labels do people try to put on you? I don’t know. You’d have to ask others because this isn’t the sort of thing people say to your face lol. Who do YOU (or rather, who does God) say you are? Are you happy? I’m not happy with the Jesus questions on here lmao but kidding aside, I wouldn’t say that I 100% am. I just feel like I’ve only been floating or existing recently, but not fully happy. Have you asked yourself recently, Why am I here? I hate questions like that, so no. What family member did you get your hair color from? Everyone of them. Filipinos have the same features. Have you ever found a secret compartment? No. If you designed a house, would you give it a secret room? I’ve seen some interesting ones on the internet that make me want a secret room of my own, but I think it’ll stay as a fantasy. Do you read horror stories? When I come across them, sure. I don’t actively look for them though. Do you ever comfort eat? Yeah, I did it a lot before quarantine. Yabu’s a great example of me comfort eating haha. Does stretching feel good? Yesssss. Do you have your wedding planned in your head already? I have scenarios that play in my head but I don’t have the specifics – color scheme, flowers, centerpieces, location, etc – mapped out yet. Would you ever adopt a child? Not my first choice. Are you ok today? I’d say so, yeah. It’s not hot today so that’s already good enough of a day for me lmao. Was the last book you read good? It was okay. It holds a great life story with okay writing. Wrestlers write autobiographies ALL THE TIME which means that not all of them will be a home run, and AJ’s was neither earth-shattering nor bad. I definitely didn’t appreciate the unintended-but-casual sexism/misogyny in it or the extreme hyperboles, but it’s AJ and I love her work nonetheless.

#survey #surveys

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lowtldes · 6 years ago

Photo

GUN FOR HIRE OC ↠ Tristan Ong

MELEE / “The Up-Close and Personal” / Fights because he doesn’t want to move. Again.

AGE: 27

HEIGHT: 5′8″

SPECIALTY: The Brawler

WEAPONS: an engraved 1911 / his fists

OCCUPATION: Freelance Photographer / Fall’s End General Store Employee

LOCATION: Fall’s End, standing outside the General Store

SHORT BIO: Tristan is a freelance photographer, new to Hope County. Tristan’s spent the last few years of his life moving from couch to couch, place to place. He needed something stable, so when his younger sister Thea got a job at Hope County Police Department, she suggested he move there with her since they could both use a change of scene. Tristan didn’t have to follow, but after their mother died and their father abruptly moved back to the Philippines, he wanted to be close to the only family he had left. He got a part-time job in the General Store at Fall’s End, which gave him a lot of time to hike around the county and pursue his work in photography. Then, barely two weeks after moving to the county, the local cult got violent. He hasn’t even unpacked all of his boxes, and now he’s getting into fistfights with every cultist that crosses his path. When Tristan wanted a change of scene moving to the county, he never thought it would have meant getting into fistfights with crazy religious cultists. Makes for good pictures, though.

RECRUITMENT MISSION: Shutterbug -- Help Tristan get his camera equipment from Deep North Irrigation Reservoir. [Talk to Tristan / Follow Tristan / Eliminate all Peggies / Pose for photos / Talk to Tristan] "Hey, I’m Tristan. Still new in town and boy is shit crazy right now, huh? I used to work at the General Store... well, I worked there for like five days and now, ah, I think my boss is dead so does that count as working there? Never mind. You look like you can fuck people up. I left some of my camera equipment on the roof of Deep North, could you help me get my shit back? The place is crawling with Peggies. I got some money from the register I could give you as a reward, just don’t rat me to my dead boss, heh... Oh, and I can snap some pictures for you too if you want.”

SPECIAL ABILITIES: MEAN SWING -- Glass jaw or not, if Tristan gets close enough he can down enemies with a single punch. Angels? Three punches. His hand wraps are always bloody for a reason. CAMERAMAN -- Tristan will randomly snap photos while he travels with you. Yes, even in combat. [pictures are located in the same folder as screenshots]

RELATIONSHIPS IN HOPE COUNTY:

Mary May -- He tried to apply for a job bartending at the Spread Eagle, but Mary May laughed at how terrible his bartending skills were. She still wanted to help him find work so she pointed him towards the General Store.

Jerome Jeffries -- Complimented Tristan on his photography once and Tristan was head over heels for the guy for the next three days. A little guilt about it too, the man’s a Pastor, after all.

Joey Hudson -- Tristan admires her, she’s a survivor. She’s pretty hot too, but he’s not gonna comment on that or try to ask her out. She looks like she just needs space, and Tristan steers clear.

Nick Rye -- Tristan thinks the guy’s okay, Nick won’t let him take pictures of Carmina, though.

Sharky Boshaw -- Tristan sees him set a guy on fire and thinks yeah, i’d tap that. Then Sharky opens his mouth, says something dumb and becomes another person Tristan is kind of in love with.

Hurk Drubman Jr. -- Same as Sharky. Turns out Tristan likes jolly idiots, Hope County is truly taking him through a journey of self-discovery. He’d join Hurk’s Gate.

Jess Black -- Scares Tristan a little. But she’s a great photograph subject, it takes him a long time to convince her to let him take photos of her.

Grace Armstrong -- The second Tristan saw Grace, he was fucked. Totally in love. She’s so awe-inspiring, and he’s pretty sure she isn’t interested in him at all.

Adelaide Drubman -- She looks like a blonde, slightly younger version of his mother. Nope. He stays away from that.

AMBIENT QUOTES:

[getting into cars] “Fuck yeah, let’s Mad Max this shit.”

[picking herbs] “Dude, I don’t think you can smoke that... but you do you, I guess.”

[in a church] “I grew up Catholic. Sunday pants and everything. Now I don’t know if I believe in God. If he’s real, he definitely doesn’t give a shit.”

[getting headshots] “What are you, an aimbot? God. I miss video games.”

[blowing up stuff] “Ah, it’s moments like these that make me miss Vine.”

[looting bodies] “That guy shat his pants and you’re going through his back pockets? Brave. I respect that.”

“Hey, can you kill that guy again? There was dirt on my lens.”

“God, I wish I could post stuff online. My photos about this war crap would get so many hits.”

“I really don’t know shit about guns. Seriously, if you even ask me what kind of gun I’m holding right now, I have no idea. I just took it from the store because I thought the engraving was pretty. Pretty. I don’t know shit. But hey, as long as I can shoot it, right?”

“All the Seeds are kind of hot, don’t you think? Crazy, of course, but hotter than they have any right to be. Except for Joseph, though. I mean I can see that he’s hot too, but the whole Jared Leto look doesn’t do it for me. That’s just me, though. If you think he’s hot, I support you.”

“You know, when my sister and I moved here, I really thought I was gonna be bored. I was scared I’d turn into a farmer or something. But nope, now I do murder. Life’s funny. Really makes you think.”

“I wonder if this shit’s made it to worldwide news. I wonder if my dad thinks me and Thea are dead. Dunno if he’d care, to be honest. That’s not who he is now.”

“Well, will ya look at that? My hands are shaking so much I can’t hold my camera properly. Maybe I should stop punching cultists in the face for a while, it’s really hurting my artist hands.”

QUOTES IN JOHN’S REGION:

[at Fall’s End] “Ugh, just thinking about unboxing the rest of my shit from the move makes me wanna take a nap. Seems pointless too. Why would I bother unpacking when there’s a war going on? Yeah, I know I’m procrastinating. But God.”

“John Seed. Sadistic motherfucker, isn’t he? Hot though, I’ll give him that. Definitely the kind of guy I’d blow in a nightclub bathroom stall and never see again.”

“Dude, we gotta stop that John Seed. Let’s blow up some silos and shit. That’ll get him pissed. Maybe he’ll tattoo us. Which I’m... definitely not looking forward to, I mean. Shit is fucked up.”

“So John was a big city lawyer, right? Why the fuck would he come all the way here? It’s just... cows and shit. But--ah, yeah, I can’t say shit about that though, can I? I moved here from the city too. I’m a dumbass.”

QUOTES IN FAITH’S REGION:

[at Hope County Jail] “Time for some prison photography, I guess. Never thought I’d get here.”

“Oh, you know that guy Tweak? Wonder if he’s alive. He gave me some good weed my first week in town. Don’t tell my sister.”

“Um, I’m not the only one seeing hippie Seed frolicking in the grass, right? Right?”

“Faith Seed is what happens when you go through your pretty princess phase and zombie apocalypse phase at the same time. Next thing you know it’ll be an emo phase.”

“Let’s run through some Bliss fields! The flowers would be beautiful props for portrait photography. Though, I wonder how good my photos’ll be while I’m Bliss high. The angles and focus would probably be all wrong. Yeah, never mind let’s not. The composition in my head will get so fucked... Actually, fuck, let’s do it.”

“Those angels, man, I swear I clocked one in the face and she bit my hand. What if it spreads like an actual zombie disease? Promise me you’ll kill me if I ever go bald, Deputy, promise me.”

QUOTES IN JACOB’S REGION:

[at the Wolf’s Den] “Is there only one bathroom here? Do they all share the same bathroom? That’s a lotta people for one bathroom. Eugh.”

“Oh god, we’re hiking this place, aren’t we? My legs are gonna kill me tomorrow. The things I do to keep my ass tight... And save civilians, yeah. That too. That’s also important.”

“The views we’re gonna see up here, oh man. I hope my camera’s got enough battery for today because I am not putting this bad boy down.”

“Jacob Seed is a goddamn fool. If he wants to put people in cages, he doesn’t have to kidnap them. There’s a whole community for people who are into that, someone’s gotta tell him. Not me, though. I like my balls where they are, thanks.”

“I think my sister’s kind of into that Jacob guy. Which is fucked up and stupid, but I’m the self-destructive idiot in the family so she’s not gonna listen to me. As her big brother, should I be worried? I can’t threaten that guy, I’m pretty sure. I think I’d die, but shit, I really feel like I’m supposed to have some kind of brotherly obligation here.”

“Those wolves--those Judges--that shit is so wrong. If we run into one I’m gonna piss myself. I can’t punch a wolf, can I? Oh wait, I have a gun. Right.”

#far cry 5 #gun for hire #gun for hire oc #far cry 5 oc #he might actually be useless but he takes pics prompto ffxv style so there's a reason to keep him around #also. this got so long. my bad.#anyway here's my disaster son #oc: tristan #my edit

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inkundu1 · 6 years ago

Text

The stages of grief when you mourn the loss of your Filipinx culture

October is Filipinx American History Month.

I am a Filipina American and came to the United States when I was seven years old. Since then, I've tried to assimilate into white American culture, forgotten how to speak my native language of Tagalog, and haven't learned anything about my history.

I didn't grow up around other Filipinos, but even if I did, they probably would have also been trying to “fit in” to this mold: lose the accent; don't eat white rice and chicken adobo during school lunch. We were only taught the sunny side of white American history. World history, diverse stories, and indigenous voices were practically nonexistent in the schools I attended.

But the most heartbreaking thing is that I didn't even see this as a loss-and neither did the people around me.

It took almost 30 years of living in the U.S. for me to realize that I needed to mourn.

The loss hit me not too long ago-right after I visited the Philippines for the first time since I was 7 years old. There was a world I left behind 28 years ago that I didn't even know I missed. Suddenly, I had grief to overcome. I had to go back and forth through its stages, whether I was prepared or not.

Maika Llaneza

First, I was in denial.

I denied that missing out on Filipinx literature was a problem. After all, I've already listed hundred of “read” books on Goodreads. And I read so many diverse books. I was in junior high when I first found Maya Angelou's I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings in the very back corner of the public library, tucked away on a featured shelf for Black History Month. And since that day, I've been hooked on Black literature. Alice Walker, Langston Hughes, Malcolm X, Ralph Ellison, Toni Morrison-but mind you, none of these were assigned school readings. I've always actively searched for diverse books on my own-yet I had no interest in looking for books written by Filipinos. And I thought that was okay.

Then I became angry.

I thought back to my childhood. Why didn't any of my teachers share any books by Black authors? Why didn't my classmates and I learn even a tidbit of information about the Philippines from our teachers? Why did my parents move us here? Why don't white people value diverse voices enough to include us? When I discussed these feelings with a white colleague, he actually said, “Well that's because there are hardly any of you in the U.S. Most of us are white, so of course most of our books are going to be by whites.” I wanted to yell. “Majority white so everyone gets white?!” How could he dismiss us entirely? There are literally millions of us. I was so livid, but I honestly couldn't put the words together. All I wanted was for him to see the value in diverse authors, but I was too mad to communicate it to him.

View this post on Instagram

It's the last #filipinofridaysarelit , for which I've reserved a post about two Filipina authors I adored as a young reader. . . . . When my mother and I were living in a van, and when my family was cleaning houses on Long Island, and we had nothing, I had Jessica Hagedorn's books. Her novels were the first that I read that had characters who experienced transcontinental life like I did. Her books show social stratification based on social circles that my family bounced in and out of, and immigrant life as lived and understood by a young girl. When Trevor Noah was asked how he decided on becoming a comedian, he said that his father made a joke in the middle of a protest once, a joke that made everyone, including the opposition, laugh. He thought, “I want to do that when I grow up.” I had the same experience reading Hagedorn's books in the 90s. I remember dog-earing pages and underlining sentences, and thinking, “I want to do that.” . . . . Then there's the beautiful, kind, intelligent, fierce, I'll-take-you-in-with-open-arms @mevelinagalang . I read her stories as a college student in New York, so imagine how I felt meeting her (and @apostol2408 ) at AWP two years ago. Evelina was on a panel about, I think, world themes in literature, but I can't be sure now because I was CRYING so hard in the back, overwhelmed by her proximity. When the panel ended, I wiped off my snot, huffed, puffed, said every prayer I knew, and worked up the courage to walk up to her and shake her hand. Man, when it was my turn to say hello, I forgot all my English and Tagalog, and I must've said something like “Hi um your books me read umm writer me too” or something unintelligible and stupid like that. And you know what she did??? She smiled and asked to take me to LUNCH. Lunch is sacred to Filipinos, if you didn't know that. I had LUNCH with Evelina Galang, and a year later, I would study under her and her colleagues at @vonacommunity at the University of Pennsylvania. And that summer would solidify my allegiance to the literary arts and to the empowerment of people of color through the written word. #filipinoamericanhistorymonth #faihm #philippines #filipinx #filipinxlit #filipina

A post shared by Cinelle Barnes (@cinellebarnesbooks) on Oct 26, 2018 at 5:54am PDT

Next came depression.

A few weeks ago, I posted on social media to ask my followers the most current literature they've read by POC. The responses were basically, “White is a color too…here are 10 more white authors for you. You're welcome.”

I cried and cried for days. For some reason, I expected a list of comments about wonderful POC authors I'd never heard of. I was excited to see a few comments like “Oh, I just read Jhumpa Lahiri.” Or, “Have you heard of Rupi Kaur?” But instead, my white friends wanted more validation, and to feel included in the phrase POC. I took it as another rejection from my white counterparts. Not only were they going to ignore my question about multicultural books, but they were going to take my identity, change it, and use it to benefit themselves. I was no longer angry; I sulked, I couldn't move, I was so unmotivated, and I wanted to give up.

A few days later, I did some bargaining.

Okay, I told myself, I'm going to deactivate Facebook for a little bit and go on Twitter. I'll only follow strangers who fight for social justice and inclusion. I'll try not to read the comments in their threads because every progressive tweet comes with trolls and naysayers. I will stop reading the news and only talk to people about the weather. I figured that if I just avoided any type of real discourse, then maybe the pain would go away.

Turns out it doesn't quite work like that. Ignoring the pain doesn't make it stop.

Nowadays, I'm working on acceptance.

I've been thinking about how this is what has happened in my life, and I can't change it. I can only move forward. I must move forward, and I will desperately try to “catch up.”

That has looked like immersing myself in YouTube videos about the Philippines, watching Philippine news in Tagalog, practicing my Tagalog on WeChat, bugging my family for stories about or past, Googling Filipinx American organizations, e-mailing other Filipinx American academics, reading Philippine history books, looking for Filipinx American authors, and writing about my Filipina American experience. I've started asking my family that still lives in the Philippines for recommendations of books written in Tagalog.

I even changed my Master's of Arts thesis to include mythological folklore of the Philippines. The work is limited and I've had to do some digging, but that's okay. I know it is part of my healing process.

Ernesto Cimatu Jr / EyeEm / Getty Images

As I've started moving forward from this loss, I've began growing as a person. I started enjoying the journey to discover myself. I learned that lack of exposure to the work of marginalized people prevents us from growing as individuals.

We don't learn about ourselves and other people to the point that we hurt each other. To the point that we don't even find the absence of our voices to be a loss.

I don't solely place the blame on literary agents, publishers, teachers, professors, librarians, mentors, public school administrations, the media, or myself. It's such a pervasive, deep issue throughout our entire society. But we do become responsible for our own actions once we are aware of this injustice.

Luckily, it wasn't too late before I realized how disconnected I'd become from my culture, and I still have time to do the work. Now I can join forces with others who are changing the narrative, creating new ones, and multiplying, sharing, and spreading it. We will help Filipinx American youth know their heritage, know their parents' and ancestors' language, know their history, and ultimately know themselves.

The post The stages of grief when you mourn the loss of your Filipinx culture appeared first on HelloGiggles.

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cowgirluli-blog · 6 years ago

Text

The stages of grief when you mourn the loss of your Filipinx culture

October is Filipinx American History Month.

But the most heartbreaking thing is that I didn't even see this as a loss-and neither did the people around me.

It took almost 30 years of living in the U.S. for me to realize that I needed to mourn.

Maika Llaneza

First, I was in denial.

Then I became angry.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Cinelle Barnes (@cinellebarnesbooks) on Oct 26, 2018 at 5:54am PDT

Next came depression.

A few days later, I did some bargaining.

Turns out it doesn't quite work like that. Ignoring the pain doesn't make it stop.

Nowadays, I'm working on acceptance.

I've been thinking about how this is what has happened in my life, and I can't change it. I can only move forward. I must move forward, and I will desperately try to “catch up.”

Ernesto Cimatu Jr / EyeEm / Getty Images

We don't learn about ourselves and other people to the point that we hurt each other. To the point that we don't even find the absence of our voices to be a loss.

The post The stages of grief when you mourn the loss of your Filipinx culture appeared first on HelloGiggles.

0 notes

valentino-red · 4 years ago

Text

sinnerman

Chapter 2

take me to the hamptons, bugatti veyron

Ralph looked over at the backseat, where Nicky was looking at Soledad like she was a mountain he needed to move. It wasn’t a pretty sight, and the kid seemed to know that she was in a pickle. It wouldn’t do to have a government agent so close to Nicky; Ralph knew this, which is why he had brought out the gun he hid in the Royce.

Little Miss Diaz-- Captain Diaz, who would have thought-- sighed; and suddenly, Ralph could see it. There were the tear-troughs, the eye bags, the stress lines; Soledad suddenly looked older than him.

“I have to admit,” she began, “that I have worked as an… intelligence officer after I was promoted to captain.”

“You mean a spy.”

Nicky’s voice cut through the tension and he was suddenly the head of the Valentino Family, not the love stricken puppy of ten minutes ago. This was the Nicky that Ralph dealt with everyday, and it was the Nicky that he saw the most of right until last night. But now that Ralph knew how his boss could be (a little bit soft, yeah, but so much happier) he sort of wished that he never saw Nicky Valentino, mafia boss extraordinaire, ever again.

“Not exactly,” Soledad said, “but that’s close enough. I would go to the indigenous tribes and make deals with them on behalf of the government, try to make sure that they wouldn’t side with the communists in the region, or ask if they knew the whereabouts of the New People’s Army. So it wasn’t really spying, it was… negotiating. Investigation, if you will. Intelligence gathering.”

The kid was eerily calm, with no trace of emotion on her face or voice. Ralph supposed that maybe this was the Soledad that existed before Nicky.

Her gaze flickered to the gun as Ralph’s side. Her eyes didn’t widen, and she didn’t panic. No; she seemed to relax at the sight of it.

“Threats and guns,” she sighed. “Brings me back to my glory days.”

Nicky shared a look with Ralph that said ‘she’s crazier than I thought.’

“Marone,” he muttered. “Look, Sol. I don’t wanna hurt ya, ‘cos I know that I’d regret it. So give your story to me straight.”

“Fair enough,” she said, settling into the plush leather seats. Sol was the most relaxed of the trio even with her hands cuffed behind her back. Ralph had to respect how composed she was, seeing to the fact that she was unarmed with two men that she barely knew, and was in possession of firearms.

“I guess I should start from the top. My grandfather was a general, so when I was a child I wanted to be just like him. This, of course, led me to the army; except I was twenty-one with an inferiority complex, so I decided to join the Marines.”

Nicky watched her smile, as though she was recalling fond memories.

“We were the elite; the best, the brightest, the few. I saw the frontline three times in my career, where the army had skirmishes with rebel groups. These are the NPA, the New People’s Army-- communists that tell poor farmers and idealistic college kids that the system is corrupt and the only way out is a makeover. All good and well, except their leader isn’t even living in the Philippines, and their higher-ups are just as corrupt as government officials. So they’re a bunch of rapists and thugs that profit from their hypocrisy.”

Ralph glanced at Nicky, who had his complete focus on Soledad. The Rolls Royce had been at a standstill for five minutes now.

“Then,” Sol said, “the rebels attacked a city in the south of the country, Marawi. I served there, got promoted to captain. My grandfather died shortly after, and that’s when I was offered a slot in the intelligence division. I agreed, got new assignments. Usually, the army uses ‘retired’ officers to gather data and intelligence. Like James Bond-- he was a commander.”

“James who?”

“Oh,” Soledad said. “He’s, uh, a fictional character. Hasn’t been created yet.”

Nicky gave a slow nod; it was surprisingly easy to believe everything that Sol told him, so easy that it felt almost like cheating. But everything she told him was too bizarre to be anything but true.

And he knew what she looked like when she told the truth; people lie in many ways, but tell the truth in one. Nicky noticed that she spoke slowly when she was talking about herself, as if she wanted to be clear and concise-- as if she didn’t want to be misunderstood.

‘I’ve got a wide skill set.’

Well, Nicky thought to himself. I guess I know what her skill set is now.

And to wrap his head around the fact that she had seen war-- it felt like having a secret that they both shared, a sudden kinship. Because Nicky himself had been at war, and had led it, had scars from it.

He didn’t know if this was what drew him to her-- but then, there were many things about Soledad that he adored. Nicky loved the way she made him laugh; he loved how her hair curled under her chin; he loved how she said the plain truth, how she didn’t mince her words. Nicky didn’t know everything about her, but he could spend his lifetime doing that.

So did he mind that she didn’t tell him about her past? No, not at all. There were things that he did that he didn’t tell her yet, and somehow, Nicky knew that Sol would understand his silence on a few spots in his life.

“Hey, toots,” Nicky said. “Ya need a pin? ‘Cause those handcuffs don’t look like they’re gonna unlock themselves.”

“Oh,” she looked surprised. “I forgot about that.”

Nicky snorted, “how could you forget being handcuffed?”

“I don’t know, maybe I was worried about the fact that a certain someone was maybe mad at me?”

Nicky got a pin that he had in his jacket, and Sol turned her back to him. He was touched at how ready she was to trust him with unlocking her handcuffs, even after his open hostility.

“I already told ya, sweet thing.” There was a metallic pop, and the handcuffs were out. “There’s no need to worry. I got you.”

She turned to face him, and the afternoon sunlight that came in through the car’s window somehow made her look more golden, made her brown skin look deeper. For the first time since he met her, Sol looked like she didn’t know what to say. Nicky placed his hand on top of her’s, both sticky from sweat; suddenly, he couldn’t see anything but her dark eyes and the curl of her hair. All at once, he realised that she had been what he was waiting for, body and soul.

“Looks like we need ‘ta get outta here,” he said, voice lower than he intended. “What do you say, toots? Wanna go to my place at the Hamptons?”

***

If Sol was going to ask if she could drive the car one more time, Ralph would explode. He had a little vein in his forehead that didn’t exist until last night. It was crazy, how bullheaded someone could be; crazier still that Nicky was looking at her like she hung the stars and the moon.

It was dark already outside, and the air was getting colder, whipping at cheeks and turning exhales into wisps of smoke. Outside the world of the Rolls Royce trees were shedding their leaves into dark green heaps that could barely be seen in the lack of light. Inside the Rolls Royce, at the backseat, Nicky had his arm over Sol, and she was resting her head on his chest.

Ralph rolled up to the driveway, noticing, somewhat smugly, that Sol barely batted an eyelash at Nicky’s mansion. He had been waiting for some girl that wasn’t impressed with Nicky’s spending habits.

Said man nudged Sol at the ribs, smiling. “Do I know how to spend money, or what?”

Said girl chuckled. “I’d go for the ‘or what’, but I don’t wanna hurt your feelings.”

Nicky put a hand on his chest, acting as if someone stabbed him. “Too late,” he rasped, collapsing into her. “I may never recover.”

Sol pecked his cheek. “There,” she smiled widely. “A kiss to make it better.”

Ralph gagged, parking at the entrance as quickly as possible.

“Get out,” he said. “I got a date with a pair of dancers tonight, and I don’t wanna have to explain why I got a toothache.”

Nicky raised an eyebrow, but Soledad slid out of the car laughing. Ralph wanted to snort-- at least someone knew how to take a joke. Nicky could be a bit sore sometimes.

“Have fun, Ralph,” Sol said. “Don’t stay out too late, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That’s not much,” Ralph rolled his eyes, walking to his car and leaving the two love birds behind. Nicky gave a small wave, his eyes warm and smiling. Sometimes the man showed his affection in small ways.

Sol paused to look at the house, with its cream colored bricks and French design. Somehow, it reminded her of her family, and a way of life that was lost to her. Homesickness settled at the bottom of her gut; that’s how she knew it was shit.

“Honey,” she said, “it ain’t that bad, but I gotta tell you. It's pretty obvious that a young man with new money owns this place. But not to worry, when the ivy grows it will look distinguished. Ivy gives everything an air of gravitas.”

Nicky peered down at her. “And how exactly are you an expert on gravitas, toots?”

“Well, I’m with you aren’t I?” Sol said it like it wasn’t flirting, but a fact. “Besides, my family is so old money that we have no money. I saw it, but it never reached me.”

“Well, honey,” he grinned, “you can reach for all the money you want. My treat.”

She punched his arm playfully, and Nicky winced at the force of it. Sol was an army captain alright.

“Hey,” he said. “I’ve got a swell place that’s perfect for stargazing. You can see entire galaxies up there. Wanna check it out?”

Sol shook her head, and Nicky tried his best to not feel disappointed.

“It’s a cold night,” she replied, “and I am physically, psychologically, socially, culturally, genetically and spiritually unable to stand the cold. I’m from the Philippines, and that’s at the middle of the equator.”

Nicky chuckled. “Well, I have some mink that I could lend you for New York in the winter.”

Soledad groaned. “Just throw me to the sun, please. I hate winter.”

Nicky didn’t mean to grin at her despair, but he couldn’t help it. “Too bad, toots, ‘cause I love snow.”

“Hay, susmariosep,” she muttered to herself. Nicky blinked at her, and she sighed, stepping into the house-- she was cold already, standing in the evening air.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” she clarified. “But we Filipinos take revenge on our colonizers by bastardising their language, hence: susmariosep.”

Nicky led her into the mansion, and Sol was struck with how immaculate everything was. The marbled floors were shinier than a brand new Ferrari, the decor was a tasteful creme color, and the chandeliers gave a welcoming golden light to everyone under it, with Nicky’s brown eyes looking like a setting sun over still waters.

“Care for a quick drink?”

Soledad nodded, and her favorite mob boss led her to a study furnished with heavy mahogany shelves and plush velvet seats. She carefully mapped the layout of the house in her head, a habit of her’s that was born from paranoia and grew into a faint buzz at the back of her mind, like how some people ran their hands through shelves in the grocery.

Nicky mixed her an Old Fashioned as she sunk into an armchair, tucking her legs under her. It was difficult for her to be on her guard with Nicky for too long; there was something about him that made her feel at ease, like how one feels after a good massage.

Soledad nursed her drink in its perfect crystal tumbler as Nicky told her of his place, his position, before she stumbled into the Twenties. His eyes were a hard amber as he talked about being the head of one of New York’s Five Families, of being on the cover of every paper in town, of being young and dangerous and flaunting cash. Soledad could see it happening; she could see how the very same man that made her drink and called her cute pet names was also the kind of man that dipped more than his toe in bootlegging and crime. Maybe it was in how he carried himself, or the way he talked-- whatever it was, Sol knew power when she saw it, and Nicky Valentino oozed it.

“Look, Sol.” His brows were set and stern. “I got a lot of regrets about the things I done. There’s a lot of wrongs I can never right, and that’s why I got out. The big house never scared me more than the big sleep.”

His face softened a bit, as if he was sharing a fond memory. “But becoming a man; seeing the consequences of my actions…”

Nicky Valentino’s wandering eyes settled on Sol’s, and she could see forests of unexplored secrets in their depths.

“That’s why I left. Easier said than done, though.”

Sol watched his face get flustered, ears heating up, as she took a final sip of her drink, tilting it back.

“Trouble just seems to find you, huh?”

“I have myself to thank for that. But worst comes to worst, I still got my secret headquarters.”

Sol smiled, cradling the crystal glass in her hands. “You’ll have to show me, someday. Just in case.”

Nicky returned her smile. “Of course,” he said, almost whispering. “I got one last place to show you, if you’d let me.”

Their footsteps were quick in the quiet night, as if they were teenagers slipping from shadow to shadow, scared of being found out. Nicky held her hand like it was glass, idly taking note of how light it was, and where her hands were calloused and where it was smooth.

The night breeze was fierce, blowing white curtains into the house like spectres, half-alive and half in love, reaching for something. Soledad walked beside him, and under the moon she looked like she was dreaming, in another place that didn’t exist. He brought her to a swimming pool, smiling under the stars.

“I’m going to dip my feet in for a hot second,” he said. Soledad followed him, and they sat at the edge of the pool’s deep end together.

“Trust me, Nicky,” she muttered. “Every second with you is a hot second.”

“Yeah,” he blushed. “But you’re cold aren’t ya? Here, take my coat.”

He took his black coat off, wrapping it around her; Sol was grateful for the sudden warmth that it gave her. She breathed in deeply; it smelled like smoke and cognac.

They spent a few minutes in silence. Sol knew that there wasn’t a need to say anything. It had been a long day, and she was grateful for quiet moments like these. The oceans in her stomach settled when Nicky held her this way, when they both looked at the deep blue pool together.

“My ma used to tell me, ‘Your soulmate is somewhere out there looking at that same moon.”

Sol smiled. “Oh? And did you listen to her?”

“I was more concerned about finding out how I could sneak into the Polo Grounds and catch a ball game.”

They shared a smile.

“But now,” Sol said, “you’re a romantic.”

“Yeah, now I am.” They were both quiet for a heartbeat. “What about you? Is you a romantic?”

Sol looked away from Nicky and the moon, her smile getting sadder. “I never let myself think about romance,” she said. “Like I said, you don’t get to be twenty-nine years old with no boyfriend, ever, without a bit of paranoia.”

“How about me?” Nicky’s gaze was heated, focused on her.

“What about you?”

“What happened? You met me and figured out the power of true love?”

Soledad snorted, rolling her eyes. “Not everyone goes out and buys jewelry for their future lovers, Don Juan.”

“When it comes to love, everyone’s got a chip and a chair,” he chuckled. “So long as you got a single chip and a seat at the table, you still got a shot.”

“You really are a romantic,” Sol huffed, grinning.

Nicky wrapped his arm around her; there was something behind her eyes that was still closed off to him, but he could see that she was keeping something close to her chest. He had seen that look before in the mirror, and he knew that whatever she was keeping close to her, she didn’t want to let go of yet. Nicky didn’t want to take it from her hands.

“It’s been a long day,” he said, not noticing how his voice dropped to a lower octave. “We should both hit the sack.”

Sol nodded, and the new goosebumps on her arm were not from the cold. “Where’s my room?”

“Take a hard left down the hall,” he replied. “You can’t miss it.”

***

Soledad had changed into an oversized polo shirt and baggy shorts that she had found in the dresser, and had already settled on a makeshift bed on the floor. There was something about fluffy mattresses that made her feel like she was drowning, so she took the heavy comforter from the bed and a pillow, fashioning a spot that vaguely resembled a sleeping bag.

There was a gentle knock on her door, and Nicky’s face peeped in. Surprise colored his face, and Sol smiled back sheepishly. She didn’t know why she felt embarrassed at being seen trying to sleep on the floor-- she did it many times back home, never caring about other people’s perception of her. But the way that Nicky looked a little bit concerned had her face flushing.

It’s because it’s his house, she thought to herself.

“Force of habit,” she explained, sitting up from the floor. “I, uh, don’t really like soft beds.”

Nicky nodded, pretending as though he understood. “Army training, huh?”

“Army training.”

He hummed lightly, rolling on his heels. “Would you like a quick nightcap?”

Nicky showed her the two mugs he was holding.

“What’s that? Coffee?”

“Coffee? At this hour? Do I look like a barbarian to you?”

“Sorry if I have a caffeine addiction,” Sol muttered. “It takes three cups to wake me up. Besides, coffee can be had any time.”

“Not if you’re Italian.” Nicky looked mildly embarrassed. “No coffee after breakfast. That’s how it’s done in the old country. So what will you have? Tea or hot chocolate?”

“The hot chocolate, please. I may be a coffee addict, but my true love is hot chocolate. I should really make you a cup some time. My recipe predates the Americans.”

Nicky smiled at her rambling as he walked over to her and gave her the cup. “Something sweet for my something sweet,” he said.

Soledad took a sip. “It’s good, but trust me when I say that mine is better.”

“Oh? And what’s it like?”

“Thicker.” Soledad blushed, hoping that he didn’t notice the double entendre. “Less sweet, more bitter. But the cacao from Davao? The best, the absolute best, I tell you.”

“My ma used to make hot coco, too.” Nicky sat on top of the bed, which was stripped of its blankets. “And I remember that she did make it thick. But my pa didn’t like it, because apparently anything that brings any kind of joy didn’t make you a man in his eyes. The irony, coming from a man whose soul was crushed by the factory.”

Nicky’s eyes were still tender, and Sol was jealous that he was able to talk about his father that easily.

“Well,” Nicky said, standing up. “We best get to bed already. It’s going to be busy tomorrow.”

Sol remembered some things that Ralph had mentioned on the trip to the Hamptons. “Long day at your lawyers’ office?”

Nicky shrugged. “Can’t always be getaway cars and police men on your tail.”

They shared a look with each other before Nicky headed to the door. He opened it, and Sol memorised the way he looked like, before pausing. Nicky held her gaze one more time.

“I’ve chased it before; that danger. You can get hurt. Go after it long enough and you will get hurt.”

“I know,” Soledad said. She said it so quietly, she wasn’t sure if Nicky heard her.

“I just wanna be honest with you, as someone who’s been there, done that. I just don’t want to put you in harm’s way.”

Soledad sighed, sitting up straighter. She wondered what he thought of her, sitting on the floor wearing what might be his shirt.

“I’m here for you,” she told him, and it was as simple as that. “I’m not here looking for a thrill, or for money. I’ve had enough of that in my old life, and I’m used to it and the demons that come along with it. So I’m here for you, Nicky, and I’m ready to stay with you.”

“You’re one of a kind, you know that?”

They smiled at each other, and Sol forgot how to breathe.

“Takes one to know one.”

Nicky turned off the light, closing the door behind him as gently as he could.

***

That night, Soledad dreamt of the midday sun on the top of her head. There were gunshots, but she couldn’t hear them. She only knew how they felt, because with every beat of her heart a new one was fired. There was a familiar weight in her hand, and her trigger finger squeezed. Bullets flew and people died like leaves falling from acacia trees.

***

She woke up to orange stains in the sky. The sun greeted her, as though they were lifelong friends. Her hands folded blankets and fluffed pillows with no thinking on her part. This was routine, and Soledad knew the rhythm of it. The only thing that was missing, she thought to herself, were small lizards and the occasional cockroach. Sol smiled; she didn’t miss those things.

She changed back into her yellow dress, for propriety’s sake, before setting off to the direction that she deduced the kitchen was. As luck would have had it, she was right, and before she set foot in the place she could already smell breakfast.

“Good morning,” she said softly. “Can I help you in any way?”

A stout woman with wild curly hair came up to her, wiping uncooked batter on her white apron. “And who might you be, missy?”

“Soledad Diaz, ma’am.”

The older woman shook her head, muttering something about a new hire, before ordering her to chop onions. Soledad smiled, not wanting to correct the chef, and got to work.

There was something about holding a knife that she enjoyed, and she did her part in making breakfast. There were four of them working; the stout woman, a younger black man, an old hispanic lady that spoke in broken English, and Soledad. She had traded a few words with the woman (“de donde eres?” Sol asked. “Cuba,” the old lady replied, smiling through the steam that rose from a nearby pot. “Cuba.”).

Bridget, Joshua, and Mamita. Soledad enjoyed working alongside them, but soon excused herself, saying that she needed to go to the bathroom. Bridget had let her go with a wave of her hand, not taking her eyes off the sausages that she was frying.

Sol went back to her room, humming a song from her youth. She idly wondered if Mamita knew any Spanish songs that she knew, and suddenly Sol missed the guitar that she left back home in the Philippines.

Her thoughts came to a stop as she spotted a familiar face holding a basket full of petals, back facing her.

“Nicky?”

He turned to look at her, blushing harder than he ever had since she met him. It was adorable, and she laughed, only a little bit sorry that it was at his expense. He scratched the back of his head, and Sol idly looked him up and down. He was only wearing dark blue slacks and a white button down, but he looked good. Better, even.

“I didn’t know you were already up, toots. Army training?”

Soledad nodded. “Army training. Anyway, what are you doing? That’s going to be a pain to clean up.”

Nicky crossed his arms, and she could see his muscles underneath. “I wanted to surprise you when you woke up, but I guess you’re the one that surprised me. Breakfast’ll be in an hour yet, so maybe we can move to the veranda? It’s got a view of the pool.”

“Trust me,” she smiled. “I know that breakfast is coming in an hour.”

...

A/N: no beta we die like men. literally just finished this five minutes ago. i have no idea where this story is going, so i’m just sprinkling seeds for future angst that may or may not sprout. uh, in this chapter i tried to go for a more prose-y style, and i wanted to sort of start a bit the nationalistic streaks of sol here, since i figured that she’d have to be somewhat in love with her country, since she was a soldier.

i’m a little concerned that the romance part between sol and nicky is fast, but since it’s fast in canon, i suppose it’s alright for now. especially since they both have skeletons in their closet, that again, may or may not pop up later.

if yall have any suggestions, or anything that u wanna see, please tell me!!! do yall want scenes that are mainly canon compliant, or divergent? should i include more of the canon dialogue? i love feedback, mainly because i don’t have a lot of people to brainstorm with, so pls dont hesitate to drop me a dm!!!

Prologue | Chapter One

#nicky valentino #nicky valentino x oc #nicky valentino/oc #nix hydra #fanfiction #nicky valentino fanfiction #tatw #two against the world #hay salamat thank the lord this is done #for now

23 notes · View notes

ungracefulswan-blog · 6 years ago

Text

The stages of grief when you mourn the loss of your Filipinx culture

October is Filipinx American History Month.

But the most heartbreaking thing is that I didn't even see this as a loss-and neither did the people around me.

It took almost 30 years of living in the U.S. for me to realize that I needed to mourn.

Maika Llaneza

First, I was in denial.

Then I became angry.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Cinelle Barnes (@cinellebarnesbooks) on Oct 26, 2018 at 5:54am PDT

Next came depression.

A few days later, I did some bargaining.

Turns out it doesn't quite work like that. Ignoring the pain doesn't make it stop.

Nowadays, I'm working on acceptance.

I've been thinking about how this is what has happened in my life, and I can't change it. I can only move forward. I must move forward, and I will desperately try to “catch up.”

Ernesto Cimatu Jr / EyeEm / Getty Images

We don't learn about ourselves and other people to the point that we hurt each other. To the point that we don't even find the absence of our voices to be a loss.

The post The stages of grief when you mourn the loss of your Filipinx culture appeared first on HelloGiggles.

0 notes

gayyogurt-blog · 6 years ago

Text

The stages of grief when you mourn the loss of your Filipinx culture

October is Filipinx American History Month.

But the most heartbreaking thing is that I didn't even see this as a loss-and neither did the people around me.

It took almost 30 years of living in the U.S. for me to realize that I needed to mourn.

Maika Llaneza

First, I was in denial.

Then I became angry.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Cinelle Barnes (@cinellebarnesbooks) on Oct 26, 2018 at 5:54am PDT

Next came depression.

A few days later, I did some bargaining.

Turns out it doesn't quite work like that. Ignoring the pain doesn't make it stop.

Nowadays, I'm working on acceptance.

I've been thinking about how this is what has happened in my life, and I can't change it. I can only move forward. I must move forward, and I will desperately try to “catch up.”

Ernesto Cimatu Jr / EyeEm / Getty Images

We don't learn about ourselves and other people to the point that we hurt each other. To the point that we don't even find the absence of our voices to be a loss.

The post The stages of grief when you mourn the loss of your Filipinx culture appeared first on HelloGiggles.

0 notes

typhoonprecious-blog · 6 years ago

Text

The stages of grief when you mourn the loss of your Filipinx culture

October is Filipinx American History Month.

But the most heartbreaking thing is that I didn't even see this as a loss-and neither did the people around me.

It took almost 30 years of living in the U.S. for me to realize that I needed to mourn.

Maika Llaneza

First, I was in denial.

Then I became angry.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Cinelle Barnes (@cinellebarnesbooks) on Oct 26, 2018 at 5:54am PDT

Next came depression.

A few days later, I did some bargaining.

Turns out it doesn't quite work like that. Ignoring the pain doesn't make it stop.

Nowadays, I'm working on acceptance.

I've been thinking about how this is what has happened in my life, and I can't change it. I can only move forward. I must move forward, and I will desperately try to “catch up.”

Ernesto Cimatu Jr / EyeEm / Getty Images

We don't learn about ourselves and other people to the point that we hurt each other. To the point that we don't even find the absence of our voices to be a loss.

The post The stages of grief when you mourn the loss of your Filipinx culture appeared first on HelloGiggles.

0 notes

fuckyeahslightlyamusing-blog · 6 years ago

Text

The stages of grief when you mourn the loss of your Filipinx culture

October is Filipinx American History Month.

But the most heartbreaking thing is that I didn't even see this as a loss-and neither did the people around me.

It took almost 30 years of living in the U.S. for me to realize that I needed to mourn.

Maika Llaneza

First, I was in denial.

Then I became angry.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Cinelle Barnes (@cinellebarnesbooks) on Oct 26, 2018 at 5:54am PDT

Next came depression.

A few days later, I did some bargaining.

Turns out it doesn't quite work like that. Ignoring the pain doesn't make it stop.

Nowadays, I'm working on acceptance.

I've been thinking about how this is what has happened in my life, and I can't change it. I can only move forward. I must move forward, and I will desperately try to “catch up.”

Ernesto Cimatu Jr / EyeEm / Getty Images

We don't learn about ourselves and other people to the point that we hurt each other. To the point that we don't even find the absence of our voices to be a loss.

The post The stages of grief when you mourn the loss of your Filipinx culture appeared first on HelloGiggles.

0 notes

tothe-tooth-blog · 6 years ago

Text

The stages of grief when you mourn the loss of your Filipinx culture

October is Filipinx American History Month.

But the most heartbreaking thing is that I didn't even see this as a loss-and neither did the people around me.

It took almost 30 years of living in the U.S. for me to realize that I needed to mourn.

Maika Llaneza

First, I was in denial.

Then I became angry.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Cinelle Barnes (@cinellebarnesbooks) on Oct 26, 2018 at 5:54am PDT

Next came depression.

A few days later, I did some bargaining.

Turns out it doesn't quite work like that. Ignoring the pain doesn't make it stop.

Nowadays, I'm working on acceptance.

I've been thinking about how this is what has happened in my life, and I can't change it. I can only move forward. I must move forward, and I will desperately try to “catch up.”

Ernesto Cimatu Jr / EyeEm / Getty Images

We don't learn about ourselves and other people to the point that we hurt each other. To the point that we don't even find the absence of our voices to be a loss.

The post The stages of grief when you mourn the loss of your Filipinx culture appeared first on HelloGiggles.

0 notes