#somehow i always have a busy social day right after finishing a draft

[vinelark]

ok. ok. chapter 4 draft is: drafted. and 23k. i can sleep now

[ruelknudson]

Slow start

Day three.

Well, day 2 was kind of a bust, but I had already expected that. While I am writing as a full-time job, there is a bit of flexibility in it. I knew yesterday, and the next few days, will have no progress. Before I put my notice in with my employee, I had 12/19 as well as 12/21-12/22 requested off. I have personal days, just like anyone else.

As far as "the job" is concerned, Monday was very productive. Only a single page written in a 9-hour workday. Sounds horrible, doesn't it? Well, there is a business side to this as well. Reactivating social media accounts and updating my website took up the first two hours. I have about an hour a day allotted to social media. I might take it each day; I may do a couple of hours here and there.

The rest of the day was reviewing the current rewrite. The first draft of this current piece was finished about ten months ago. Since then, I have been treading water on the rewrite. I may get into the nuts and bolts of "my process" in another post. But, for now, consider it loosely defined like this:

Basic Outline.

Vomit out a first draft. Ignore being good, and just get the important parts nailed down. It'll be sloppy, and barely worth calling writing, but it is the foundation.

First rewrite: do the writing. This is the mechanical part of it. Make it good.

Second Rewrite: Self-editing of content. I.e. trim the fat.

Third - Fifth Rewrite(s): Grammar, spelling, structure, themes all get a final review. These are usually very fast. I usually need a few of these. As this blog will attest, my grammar and spelling are terrible.

Send to the editor. Thank God for editors. By the way, they're always right. Ignore them when you absolutely have to. I will limit myself to one "I'm not changing that" per story.

Revise based on editor notes.

Final editor pass. Be prepared to justify the thing you kept which your editor said to change. Smile broadly when the editor doesn't tell you to remove it the second time.

Release.

Number 3 is the longest, and most arduous step for me. However, this is where the book starts to actually resemble something worth reading. I am about 40% of the way through this rewrite, but I had to reread all of the previous work. This reflects how unfocused the process had been while I was working full-time on my previous day job.

This draft is still a mess. Luckily the core themes are properly worked out, and they evolve as I was hoping. My worst fear was repetition. I had to be sure the core ideas weren't creeping back into the piece later on. The themes need to evolve through the story, even a non-fiction story. Somehow, even as disconnected as those rewrites were, the themes are moving forward through the book at a natural progression.

If I stick with this format, I should finish two to three chapters a week. This doesn't look like it will be longer than my previous books. So. it looks like a month before the narrative is finished even with the holidays. Then I do the follow up rewrites. I also have appendices to write, but these are more academic than narrative, so they should go pretty quick and will only have one or two rewrites (if that).

During this process I will journal my thoughts and feelings here. I don't know if anyone will care. That's not the point. I think of it like those behind-the-scenes extras for films. Mostly, they are self-gratifying, but if you are interested in how the sausage is made, then its available.

I also want to use this to document how this process may change from story to story. I am curious how it might look after a few years. Will I have refined my process, or dumped it altogether? I wonder what future me will think of this. I bet future Ruel will take a look, get through the first half, delete it, and hope no one scraped a copy or thinks to look at the way back machine's archives to dredge this up.

One last note. I am rereading "On Writing" by Stephen King. I started in my final week of employment. I highly recommend it for any author, aspiring or not. While it has some advice, it is more of a peek into Stephen King as a writer. I am not a huge fan of King. I like many of his stories, but I don't go running to by a new book of his just because it was released.

However, I always find this book to be reaffirming, and inspiring. I don't agree with everything he says, but that's ok. I think the core value of the book isn't the advice. To me, it feels like he is sharing his experience and passing it along in case what works for him can help other writers. That's not to say one should ignore the advice. Its good advice. But that doesn't mean it works for everyone.

I don't expect the same fame, or any fame. I don't even know if writing will be profitable yet. But there is this sense of kinship when you read this book. I can relate to him, and much of what he says. The first time I read this I found myself nodding at a page like he could see me agreeing with him. It's like a conversation with King. "I totally get where you're coming from, Stephen. Telepathy."

Anyways, it's not a revolutionary book that will suddenly make a writer out of anyone. It's not designed for that. But, if you are a writer, it's a good read, and I recommend it. It's great for slumps. For me, I just needed another writer's voice to tell me I'm not crazy.

Welcome to your first day on the job, Ruel. Did you bring your toolbox?

[tsuumu]

good intentions.

kuroo x reader

your long-term boyfriend is perfect. i mean perfect. he excels at basically everything he does. well, except one thing. at least he has good intentions, right?

based off of a request found here.

word count:

tags/tw: y/n & kuroo are uni students, lots of playful insulting, kuroo is perfect, well not really, y/n is a mess, y/n is me doing any kind of work, domestic x1000, kuroo cooking is so cute.

You know those people who just seem to have it all?

No, not literally, but it’s so sickeningly easy for them that they might as well be arms reach of anything they want.

Usually we tend to dislike people like that, mainly because... well, we’re not them (much to our abysmal dismay, too). They end up taking a spotlight of jealousy in our lives and we find ourselves constantly thinking: Man, i’d love to kick their asses, but would alternatively jump at the oppertunity to switch lives with them ‘Freaky Friday’ style.

These people are the embodiment of admiration.

Young. Good looking. Fit. Successful. Socially conscious. Killer smiles. Can always hold a drink. Never seem to embarrass themselves even a little, but on the off chance they do, everyone adores them more and sees it as a cute little incident or quirk of theirs.

Just thinking about it makes you want to build yourself a bunker, deep underground, just to sulk in for a decade or so, lamenting angrily at the dusty walls.

Yes. You know the truth is that there will always be someone better than you at simply existing, but that doesn’t stop that simmering of content from rising within. Realistically speaking, you’d avoid these people like your life depended on it because they’re so... detestable.

So who would have known that you —of all people— would end up falling in love with one?

Well, you did. As much as they repel you, you find that they weirdly attract you too.

That’s right.

The man who stole that pretty little heart of yours, who’d caught your attention indefinitely with his cut-throat prowess and charisma. He’d approached you one fine evening at some bar you’d never been to before, ordered you your favorite drink because he’d seen you order it twofold previously (vodka cranberry, heavy on the juice) and chatted you up the way you’d always wished a guy would.

The appalling epitome of cliche.

The whole encounter practically ran like he’d planned it before-hand. It’s almost infuriating, how easily he swept you off of those tipsy feet of yours.

Something bumps lightly over your head as a shadowy figure passes by. You groan lightly in response.

“Hey, cut it out!”

Somehow, you’ve found yourself on the floor, crossed-legged, pen in your mouth and both your hands. One is furiously scrawling something down, the other flicking the cap off to highlight. It’s an understatement to note that you look like a bit of a mess, brows scruched up in an untidy pile in the middle of your forehead, dead-focused on the first draft of your thesis that was due weeks ago.

Yeah, you were one of those people.

A mocking string of apologetic noises come from the figure in front of you as he chucks his keys onto the kitchen counter.

Kuroo Tetsurou. That’s your A-list Boyfriend.

A-list of what? Of life, for god’s sake.

If it were him that’d been assigned a task with this ridiculous deadline, he’d probably have handed it before it was fucking given to him in the first place! Not only is he academically adept to the point of pure indignancy (on your part, of course, you’re too prone to jealousy for your own good), but his organisation is nothing short of freakishly unnatural.

He says he’s minimalistic, you say he’s an alien.

If someone had told you that the man you loved was actually some kind of secret government- made equipment to survey you, you wouldn’t bat an eyelid. He’s that good.

He chuckles at his own jeers, slipping a hand through the fridge handle. It unlatches with ease and he takes a cold can of beer out, pulling the tab back and allowing it to hiss open satisfyingly. Your eyes flicker upwards, gnawing at your knuckle, you’re not only stressed out, but unbelievably embarrassed that you’re at it again. He’s seen you like this countless times, after promising to clean up your act and follow in his footsteps.

Following in his footsteps. Well, that’s how he described it. You were close to socking his arm.

“Shut up.”

Tetsurou tilts his head back, drinking to his heart’s content before catching your eye. You’re correct. He has seen this before, so he knows not to take your off-handed comments to heart. Instead, he’s rather bemused.

“Your scruched up nose.” He begins, setting the can down to the side, crossing one leg over the other. “That’s your classic concentrating face.”

You’re not even listening if you’re honest. You’re trying to understand what this section of the task even means after re-reading it for the fifteeth time. The responses you give are made absently.

“Hm.”

“You look like a cat that’s been forced to wait to eat. That little glare. It’s cute, kitty.”

Your head jerks up questioningly. Did he call you cute?

His head tilts.

“Oh, you’ve relaxed your face now. It’s gone back to being ugly.”

You scowl and throw the highlighting pen at him.

“Go away! I’m almost done!”

Your fingers move to your lower back, pressing on your spine in hopes it’ll crack and relieve some of the tension in your body. Kuroo retrieves the pen, sweeping the can up with his spare hand. He plods over, craning his neck down to study whatever it is that you have on your lap.

“It’s too dark in here to see that properly.”

“I’m fine!”

“Well—“ He leans back to switch the overhead lights on. “—now you’re finer.”

You turn to him, pausing for a moment.

“Oh, thanks.”

It’s like you fall into this crazed state when you’re overworked. Frantic. Snappy. Cowering in the dark like some sort of parody Dracula— that is, if Dracula were three weeks late on his university assignment worth a disgustingly high percentage of his final grading. If Kuroo came too close, or said something a little too sly, you’d probably bite him. He knows this too, opting to keep quiet from now on. Instead, he sits leisurely on the floor, just behind you, placing his hands against your propped up body and gently pressing his thumbs into the blades of your back.

“Drop it a sec, yeah?”

Your body’s stiff, but you can tell he’s shocked at just how stiff it is. For a moment, you’re caught off guard, before rolling your shoulders back forcefully.

“Can’t... gotta finish—“ and you gesture wildly at everything around you. That answer was to be expected. You weren’t as academically driven, sure, but you weren’t one to give in easily. Or fail, for that matter.

Tetsurou plants a gentle kiss onto the nape of your neck, mumbling into the ridge of your spine.

“That—“ he copies your movements. “Can wait. I know you think it can’t, but it can. And you’re going to stop now.”

Your eyes lower a little, vision blurring.

“But—“

“Nope.”

You twist yourself to look at him, giving him another sour look.

“I’m serious!”

“So am I.” It rolls off the tongue so easily for him. He’s utterly calm. But then again, he’s not the one that needs to be on bloody ‘X-Games’ mode.

He’s never the one. Damn it.

You lift yourself up a little by placing your palms under you, wincing at the twinges of pain it induces. You’d made friends with the floor for a little too long, butt totally numb.

“Fine.” You resign, suddenly falling back onto him. “I’ll email my professor for the tenth time this week and wait as he rips me apart. Shall I?” Kuroo tuts, snaking an arm around your upper-body, the other brushing at your baby-hairs so he’s able to see your face a little clearer.

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“Uh— yes he would. Would you like front row seats to my untimely demise?”

“You’re so dramatic.”

For the first time through that entire day, you smile, even if it’s just a little. And to him, he’s managed to fish you out of that downward spiral you’ve been plunging into. Job well done on his part. He softly runs a his palm down your side.

“Your professor covers mine when she’s busy.” He states matter-of-factly. “Let me email him. It’s not ludicrous to say that i’m your boyfriend and you’re a little troubled at the moment.”

You’re slumped over, at the moment, chin buried into your chest.

“Troubled sounds like i’ve lost my mind.”

“Well not like that—“ The eager boy begins sifting out your laptop from under the seemingly endless piles of paper. “Let’s think of a better excuse.” Your body doesn’t move an inch, fiddling with the cap of the pen lid. You throw it by accident and it bounces too far to reach comfortably. Shit.

“Mmm.” He buries his nose into the crown of your head. “Shall I tell him you got into a car accident?”

“What? Tetsu, that’s stupidly unbelievable. I don’t even drive.”

“I guess... maybe not a car.” His fingers teasingly splay over your stomach, body bent intrusively over yours. They move against the softness of your flesh, dipping down slightly.

You suck in a breath.

“I’m sure I can do something for you that’ll keep you from walking for quite some time.” Tetsurou hums deeply, and it feels like he’s talking directly into your brain.

Your fingers fumble for the pen he just gave back, before hitting him square on the forehead with it. It ricochets back perfectly onto your chest with a loud snap.

“Ow!”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Geez.”

“I don’t need excuses. I’ll just come back to it later.”

“Oh— yeah. That too.”

With a heave, you sit up, rubbing the side of your head as the blood rushes back.

“I’m kinda hungry.” You’d been so distracted with this work that even simple, human needs took a backseat.

This is why Kuroo doesn’t like it. At times like this, you’d barely eat, sleep, breathe. Seriously. Sometimes you’d hold your breath for absurdly long periods of time whilst reading, only to hack and gasp and apologise because you were so into it.

That’s... extreme. And he does not approve in the slightest.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm...” Your eyes sparkle hopefully. “Did you get me something to eat?”

Tetsurou scratches his neck timidly.

“Well, not exactly.”

Immediately, your face drops and he protests wildly.

“Don’t look at me like that!”

Well— well— you couldn’t help but be disappointed! You were starving and tired and ready to email your professor a string of rather unpleasant curse words instead of another half-assed excuse. Your fingernails had been worn down considerably from all the abrasive biting you’d done, aching and red.

Being a full-time student was covert self-destruction. You heavily relied on your boyfriend to bring in food because you didn’t have the time to do so yourself. This had been discussed and agreed upon prior though, since along with Tetsu’s many formidable talents, a balanced work to school life was yet another.

He ambles back to the kitchen area, gesturing to the island smack bang in the middle.

“That doesn’t mean I came empty-handed.”

Oh. You hadn’t noticed it before, but he’d come home with groceries. Um. Groceries?

“What’s that?”

“Stuff I picked up on the way back.”

“Like, ingredients?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

The both of you are quiet for a moment, and you’re eyeing the bag like it’s appeared out of nowhere with something potentially life-threatening inside it. Yes, that sounds stupid. But the truth is... you guys never really got groceries. Not actual groceries with actual ingredients. Because that is a strong indicator that they’d have to be cooked.

And god, neither of you knew how to do that.

You’re a student who’s barely stepped into adulthood, not Gordan Ramsay.

Okay. You sound ridiculous. Cooking isn’t that complex. It’s actually quite simple if your heart’s in it.

“I figured i’d be able to do something with these.” Kuroo pats the bags and they crinkle a tad.

Of fucking course he’d ‘be able to do something’ with them.

He’s Kuroo-Genius-Tetsurou!

CEO of doing things with other things and it actually working out. Building cabinates, lock-picking, gardening, guitar, skateboarding, poker. Since you’ve been together, these are a few of the varation of things he’s naturally picked up.

You? You’re a more do-it-once-it-fails-and-never-do-it-again type.

In your mind there’s literally no doubt he’d ace cooking and list it under the other fifty(billion) things he’s also capable of, just so he can mention it off-handedly to other people at parties or something.

If there’s something to criticise about your boyfriend, he’s awful at shutting up about himself. He’ll go on forever, as if he’s showcasing his entire life to strangers in some desperate attempt to sell them his excessive excellence.

Is he arrogant? Maybe. But is he able to do it in a manner that’s utterly bewitching? Absolutely. He’s not gloating, you see, he’s ‘modestly sharing’. And you find yourself wanting to praise him, you want to hear about how much better he is than you.

Let’s be honest. Kuroo and modesty were not made to be placed in the same sentence, any humble talk of his is utter bullshit.

But everyone loves it all the same.

That’s what you mean about perfect people. They spark something in others. It’s almost hypnotic. And when you snap out of it, it’s like it’s been confirmed that you’re undoubtedly inferior. Post-Kuroo-Encounter depression. PKE. You having a devastating case of it.

Maybe you have a bit of a complex about this. Ugh.

He’s lucky he’s so damn loveable.

And that you’re so damn hungry.

“Okay.” You state.

Plus, you are a little curious to see what exactly will unfold with his newfound persuit in the culinary arts.

You haul ass to get up, audibly cursing, hopping around from foot to foot to get your blood-flow back in action. Eventually, you’ve nestled yourself onto a stool, hands propping your chin up, observing expectantly.

“What are you making, chef?”

“Uhh..” He’s rolling his sleeves up, eyes glued to the screen of his phone that’s placed facing upwards. “Chicken Alfredo.” Tetsu sounds a little uncertain but you’re staring into his head and you can almost hear the cogs turning. Really, it’s only a matter of time until the bastard works his Area 51-esque magic and concocts the dish.

He takes a little more time to familiarise himself with the recipe, before looking up, giving you a wicked grin.

“I’ve got this.”

You’re sure he does, smiling back.

Whilst he’s preparing god knows what, you peek into the grocery bag to see if there’s anything you can nibble on. You recieve another gentle smack to your head. Tetsu’s holding a packet of dry pasta.

He’s hit you with pasta.

“Nu-uh. I didn’t bring any kitty treats for you, be patient.”

“Stop hitting me like i’m a fly, or a cat!”

“Don’t be silly. I’d never hit a cat! They’re precious, adorable, i’d protect one with my life. And you—“ He hits you again. “—well, you’re you, baby.”

You snatch the packet forcefully and lob it at him again.

“You have a death wish, Kuroo-san.”

“Eesh. The formalities! I’m kidding!”

You cradle your cheek in your palm, sighing tiredly. The two of you usually ordered in, or got something you’d be able to set up pretty easily. Neither of you were particularly passionate about cooking, hence its absence in your routines. Yes, it’s excessively healthier than your current lifestyle, but you weren’t suffering. And even now, watching Tetsurou fill a pan with water, muscles firm against the shy of his shirt. You know he isn’t either.

Now that you’re looking, and looking some more, it’s pretty hot, seeing a guy cook.

“You know, you should make breakfast shirtless so I can tell my friends my hot boyfriend cooks me breakfast shirtless.”

He laughs.

“You’d enjoy that too much.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Yes. I can’t keep indulging you.”

He means that your desire for immediate gratification is your biggest weak-point. Kuroo’s recently been trying to teach you the art of patience. Abstinence. You don’t get it. Apparently perfect people believe in ‘self-control’ crap.

“Also, oil.” He adds.

“Oh, I suppose it’d hurt, right?”

“Mhm.”

Your boyfriend alternates from his phone to the actual practice in short cycles. To you, he looks like he’s on track, though you’re not quite sure what to be looking for in the first place. These things usually came ready and steaming on plates in restaurants. Even now, having to wait, it’s so difficult. But you’re enjoying the light conversation it brings, so it’s whatever.

Though, that lasting etch of confusion and concern on the boy’s face leaves you wondering if actually, this is proving slightly difficult for him.

“Is everything okay?” You pipe up.

He doesn’t answer at first.

“Think so.”

“Oh— i’ve never heard that from you before.” It’s usually straight confidence from this man.

“Shut up.”

From the stool, you slip, dragging your hand over the counter as you walk around to see it up close. You don’t really know what you’re expecting, but... it’s not this.

“Tetsu, that’s boiling a little violently, don’t you think?”

“...No?”

“Yeah. It is. That’s not a good sign.”

He bats you away.

“We can’t both stand here!”

“Why not?”

“Spaaace.” He whines. “And if we both stay crowded around it’ll—“

And it happens, exactly what you’d predicted.

You, of all people, had made an assumption your boyfriend hadn’t. Ain’t that crazy? The water rises up too high, boiling over and spilling absolutely everywhere. The gas flame heightens all of a sudden, curling up next to the fabric of a dish towel next to it. In a panic, you pull him back.

“What the fuck—“

There’s no time for you to think, your hands fumbling to close the stove, you hadn’t realised the water had seeped over it, causing you to cry out in pain in the process, hand burnt silly.

But you do it. Quickly too. And Kuroo’s utterly dazed, like he hadn’t even thought to react. Your immediate response post-injury is to suck on the wound, trying to suppress the pain with the soothing movements of your tongue. That doesn’t do much, so you flap it about like a mad man, that only instigates more irritation.

Tetsu snaps out of it when he hears your hissing, grabbing onto your wrist and pulling you to the sink forcefully, apologising profusely as he does.

Cold water hits you. It’s instant relief.

“God— i’m so sorry, (y/n)—“ He stumbles, still panicking, he seems to be experiencing everything five minutes too late. “I don’t know why that happened, I swear to God i’ve done that before but it just—“

You let out a giggle, and it shuts him up.

Another one slips. It gets louder and louder, harder to suppress until you’re full on belly laughing, hunched over. He stares at you, wordlessly surprised.

“T-Tetsu— you burnt water—“ You try and stifle your laugh but it only shakes your body more. His deep shame morphs into relief when he sees you’re okay. Tearfully making fun of him, but okay. He pulls you into a tight embrace, ignoring your remarks and still feeling unbelievably guilty.

It’s okay. You’re still chortling, holding him just as tight.

“Here, let me— let me bandage this.” In a cupboard somewhere, he pulls out a small wrap of fabric, proceeding to do just that. You watch happily enough, before turning to the boiled water that had completely stilled.

“Thanks. Let me do this.”

With considerable time and effort, you’re able to clean up the haphazard mess and start afresh, filling his place. Yeah, Kuroo is pretty humiliated, but he was more concerned about your wellbeing at the time than anything else. Seeing you unwavered was enough to make him feel like things were good.

It’s a miracle really, that you do end up filling two plates with delicious smelling pasta.

That lingering look of sorrow is still plastered all over the poor boy’s features, watching you with wide eyes.

“How did you manage that?”

You just shrug, licking a smidge of sauce off of your thumb.

“Dunno. Guess I have potential.” Your gaze moves up to his, pinching his cheek and blubbering jokingly. “Baby. What’s with the long face?”

“Feel bad.” Tetsu looks so glum. It’s adorable.

“Hm.”

The scrape of the plate against the counter is clear as bells as you urge him to eat.

“I should thank you, dumbass.” Admiring the bandage work, a grin settls upon you. This ordeal helps you to see that, actually, Tetsu wasn’t good at everything. In fact, for once, you were better.

And God. That’s— that’s different. You don’t want to be as cocky as him, but it feels nice for a change. He admires you.

“Got an excuse for that late assignment now.” You muse.

“Oh my god.”

You’re always going to be a handful.

“Ugh. Tetsu. Something good always come out of your actions. It’s sickening!”

“I hurt you, silly!”

“I’m feelin’ pretty good about it, regardless. Plus—“ You jump up, leaning over the counter to flick his forehead. “—i’m going to tell everybody this pretty little golden boy set our kitchen on fire because he tried to boil water.”

“Cruel. You’re cruel.”

“The cruelest.”

[sleekervae]

The Neighbour [2.1]

Masterlist

A/N: OH MY GOD I LIVE!!!! Also, spoiler ahead for The Bastards graphic novel; not so much plot-wise but there are a few lines from the book. Indented paragraph is credited to Emerson Barrett and XoBillie.

“I have loved you from the moment you first smiled at me,

Giddy, mischievous, not ever looking for trouble yet somehow

Trouble has a way of always finding you.”

Remington stared wistfully at the view from Eva’s balcony, knowing how self-conscious she was when he watched her as she read a piece. In his lap sat Pluto, satisfied to have his ears stroked while he took his afternoon nap. 

He couldn’t explain it, but somehow Remington found he was always transported to a new dimension when he heard Eva’s poetry. It was so soft and delicate, he could appreciate it the same way one does the petals of the first flowers of spring. Everything about her writing was so soothing, now a familiar notion that he never wanted to let go of.

“You’ve ignited a fire in my belly with embers sparking and popping

Under the intense pressure of your dark eyes 

And the bubbling pearls of your laugh.

I loved you when I first ran into your open arms and marvelled

“My God, you feel just like home”

And with a few simple touches the open sores on my skin 

Recede and heal, and their pain is a faint memory in comparison

To the electricity your fingertips carry. 

I loved you when we were flying over the streets,

Vibrant yellow, orange and purple coating my eyes and

Painting you into Monet’s Twilight, Venice.

You’re a renaissance masterpiece that has been imprinted

Into the soft folds of my brain...”

Eva set her book down having finished the incomplete piece, watching her boyfriend with a dazed smile on his face as the echo of her prose sunk in. She simpered to herself with giddy.

“You know, I always have mixed feelings about reading you my poetry,” she said.

“Why’s that?” Remington asked, “It’s very good,”

“I know that. And you know that,” she smirked, “And I know that you know that I’m low-key inflating your ego with this shit,” 

Remington chuckled, reaching out across the small table to take her smaller hand in his, “Would it put you at ease if I told you my ego is too far gone?”

Eva rolled her eyes and snapped her notebook shut, “Maybe I should start writing poems about the things you do I find annoying?”

“You say that like it’s bad,” Remington shrugged, giddy when she shook her head in dismay at his teasing. 

Pluto continued to lie motionless in Remington’s lap, assuming the sphinx position as he had his ears rubbed. However, the tabby’s eyes sprung open when a guttural vibration shook through the small wooden table, disturbing the peaceful afternoon. 

Eva glanced at the familiar glare of ‘Blocked Caller ID’ appearing, refraining from showing little disdain as she declined the call. Remington however was curious; for the past few months he’d seen Eva decline calls like that over and over again. The first few times he figured it was telemarketers, or scam calls. However, he noticed how they came frequently in the weeks; more prominent on Wednesdays and Thursdays. 

“Who is that?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Eva shrugged, “It’s blocked for a reason,”

“But if you blocked the caller... then you have to know who it is so you could block them,” he reasoned, “Right?”

Eva responded in silence, taking her phone and quickly tucking it beneath her thigh. Remington stared at her pointedly. 

“Eva, you get these calls nearly every day,” he said, “If it’s something bad... you know you can trust me with anything,”

“I know...” Eva nodded slowly, exhaling, “It’s my mom,”

Eva had been exceptionally non-forth coming when it came to her life back in Seattle, only remembering hearing about her friends and family once or twice. He respected her privacy, though he couldn’t help but be a tad curious. She fit the overall profile as someone who was running away from her problems.

“You blocked your mom?” he asked, somewhat in disbelief though from what he understood of their relationship he shouldn’t have been surprised.

Eva nodded, “Yep. Either she can’t take a hint or she’s way more stubborn than I am,”

Remington looked across the street to his own house, the gentle breeze billowing through the sheer curtain in the living room he remembered his mom helping him and Emerson pick out. 

“Why don’t you speak to her?”

“Why don’t you speak to your dad?”

“I told you already,” 

Pluto then leapt off of Remington’s lap and landed on the table, crossing over to his owner and staring at her with his big, soulful eyes. Eva smiled and gently scratched his ears.

“She showed up to my graduation, which would have been fine... but she showed up with her new husband and a kid,” she admitted.

Remington raised his eyebrows, “Her own kid?”

“Yeah. She got married to her co-pilot and they have a ten-year-old son together. She abandoned our family and started a new one,” Eva shook her head, “I guess being married to a chem teacher wasn’t as exciting for her,”

“What did your dad do?” he asked.

“That’s the best part. He knew about it and chose not to tell me. I just couldn’t believe it,” she replied, “But the fact that she just... she disappeared for years and then showed up again with a new family -- at my college graduation! How could I possibly celebrate after seeing that?”

“And you haven’t spoken to her since?” he asked tentatively.

“No. The way I saw it, she walked out of my life with no qualms. So... I walked out of hers. And it doesn’t matter how much she phones me; I don’t have time for disingenuine people,”

Remington reached over to take her hand that was resting on the table, stroking gently over the bumps of her knuckles, “Did you... did you meet her son?”

It was then Eva looked truly bummed out, “I think that’s the part I regret most. I mean -- he’s a kid. It’s not his fault his mom is a flake,” 

Remington nodded, “Do you still love your mom?” 

“I don’t know,” Eva shrugged, “Call me a coward, but avoidance is just easier to deal with,”

“You’re not a coward,” Remington assured, “I get it. But... speaking from experience, you can only avoid your issues for so long. As hard as it may be, you might want to address these problems sooner rather than later. I promise you won’t regret it,” 

“Rem --”

“She’s your mom. And obviously the fact that she’s still blowing up your phone should tell you something,”

Eva sat quietly, letting his words sink in. She knew Remington was right; knowing what she knew about him she also knew that he wasn’t just talking out of his ass. She appreciated that he understood where she was coming from, she just wished that his solution could be as easy as it sounded.

“I will call her back... eventually. My dad wants me to come home for Christmas, I guess I have to,” she chuckled sheepishly, warranting a sympathetic smile on his part, “Just... not today,”

“That’s okay,” Remington said, gently squeezing her hand, “It’s all gonna’ work out, Eva,”

“You can’t promise that,” she pointed out.

He shrugged, “Let’s not call it a promise, then. Let’s call is a whim,” 

July had faded into August, as did pandemic fatigue. The streets were becoming busier, the business’ were seeing more intake in revenue, and people were slowly coming back out to try and enjoy was little of a summer was left.

And while most people were doing their best to social distance and keep safe, the cases continued to grow. Safe in the confines of the house, Eva sat at the table and read over the final print draft of the band’s graphic novel. Eva was blown away, completely immersed from the plot line to the artwork. She was supposed to be working with Emerson on his latest project, yet afforded herself a small break. 

Across from her, Emerson was reading through Eva’s Tumblr blog, blown away at the amount of work she had posted since mid-June. Every prose and line was so vivid, painting a clear picture of her emotions. On the one hand, he couldn't help but be a little uncomfortable, knowing the sensual poems he was reading was about his older brother. On the other hand, everything was so poised and punctual -- he figured he may borrow some stuff to try on Shy some time. 

Eva turned to a new page littered with more text than it was visuals, but on the edge of the left page was a stunning, very accurate sketch of Remington. His hair looked so different in the form of a basic sketch, yet those eyes, that face still captured all the majesty and curiosity within. She was unable to help that her fingers glossed over the lines that made up his torso with all his tattoos visible, tracing down the length of his arm to the vanity beside him and back up again. The cold paper singed her fingertips as she read the prose beside the sketch, a small smile creeping onto her lips with every word that echoed in her brain.

“...Emerson thought that if hell and heaven had a bastard son, that it would be Remington. His brother had an angelic-looking face with big almond-shaped eyes. His eyes were brown but could shift into black, and melt into the iris. It was a look that Emerson though the angel of hell would be proud of. But then, in the right light, those dark eyes changed and came to glimmer like the purest of gold - a look angels would swarm for. Apart from the eyes, his face was the feature of him that seemed to never change no matter how brutal this world was to him...” 

Eva had to give credit to Emerson for his writing, capturing his brother in such a way that she herself would have. And like the flip of a switch, the memory of Remington’s eyes flashed through her mind, shining of gold and beauty the way the words had echoed to her. 

In another blink his eyes turned into the eerie shadow of black, flashing a look he’d throw her way when his lust for her consumed him. In one paragraph, Remington had been portrayed as a killer from hell, offering flowers to his peers instead of knives.

Though, all romanticism was put aside as Eva read the paragraph again, noting the last line she had skimmed over quickly:

“...his face was the feature of him that seemed to never change no matter how brutal this world was to him. The rest of him was not...”

There as no denying how cruel the world had been to Remington and his brothers, though the more she pondered the more she realized she had never seen the type of dejection in his face the way Emerson had described. He always appeared -- not happy, per say -- but content with his life. 

Emerson looked up from his tablet, noticing the way Eva’s eyes were glued to her own reading, her hand placed protectively over the sketch of Remington. 

“You okay, Eva?” he asked. 

She glanced at the youngest brother, shaken by the break in silence. But she smiled reassuringly and flipped the page, despite not having finished reading the last. 

“Oh, yeah,” she nodded, “It’s absolutely beautiful. I did make note of a couple grammatical errors... I hope you don’t mind,”

“It’s fine,” he grinned, “Deadline for rewrites is on Friday,”

“If you'd like, I could go through the rest for you. I’m in between articles right now,” she said.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. Promise I won’t post spoilers for fans,” 

“Might have to get you an NDA,” he giggled merrily, “I’ll send the file over. You ever work with InDesign?”

“A few times, yeah...” she trailed off, a new train of thought lingering in the back of her mind, “Emerson... can I ask you something sorta’ personal?”

Emerson raised an eyebrow, “How personal?” he asked. 

She breathed out carefully, “Remington had told me about your dad --”

“What did he say?” Emerson asked quickly, his cheerful demeanour quickly souring.

“Just that he hadn’t been in the picture for a while,” she said assuringly, “Nothing else,” 

Emerson began to relax a little, “Okay. What’s your question, Eva?”

“Say he out of the blue started making an effort to get back in touch with you... would you take that offer?” she asked.

“Nope,” he replied shortly, “Because if he wanted back in our lives, it would be for his own gain,” 

Eva stayed silent, his quick answer all she needed to know that she shouldn’t push the envelope. Emerson saw the fall in her face, feeling a tad bad for being so short with Eva. 

“Sorry...” he grimaced, “I just... I don’t like to talk about my dad,” 

“I understand,” Eva nodded, “I’m sorry I brought it up,”

“... Why did you?” Emerson asked curiously.

Eva exhaled, her fingers picking at the edge of the glossy page, “Just getting room different perspectives. My mom and I don’t exactly have a Gilmore Girls kind of relationship. I’ve just been thinking ‘cause she’s been trying to get a hold of me for so long,”

“Was she nice to you? When you were younger?” he asked.

“I don’t really remember,” Eva replied truthfully, “She was -- superficial. There but not really there,”

He cocked his head, his wispy black hair falling over his eyes, “So... you’re trying to figure out if you want a relationship with your mom?” 

Before she could reply, they both turned when they heard footsteps echoing in the hall towards them. Michael had appeared, panning his camera around for new footage for the band’s Youtube channel. Eva was unsure whether she pay attention or turn back to the book and pretend not to see. 

“What’re you two working on?” he asked, focusing the lens on Emerson so Eva was just out of the shot. Michael respected that Eva was a touch camera shy. 

“Top secret,” Emerson replied promptly, “And if we told you, we’d have to kill you,”

“I won’t unleash that wrath,” Michael chuckled, “Don’t have too much fun!”

“We’ll try,” Emerson muttered as he sauntered into the next room. 

Eva closed the book and pushed it aside, sighing to herself as she pulled back her laptop and opened Emerson’s project. The youngest brother watched her unabashedly, picking off the air of uncertainty swirling around her. 

“Does Remington know your mom keeps calling you?” he asked.

“He was kind of curious as to why I kept getting all these blocked calls,” she replied.

“What did he say?”

“That everything was going to be okay,” she nodded slowly, “You don’t know how many times I’ve heard that in my life and... it’s not. So, I’m super inclined to believe him,” 

Emerson swallowed, “My brother has a tendency to want to take care of everybody. And it’s not a bad quality. But he also doesn’t know how he can make it better,” he said.

“It’s not up to him to make it better,” Eva declared. 

“But he loves you,” Emerson stated, “And just because of that, he’ll want to help you find your way out of this. When Remington commits to someone, he tends to go one-hundred-percent all in,” 

Eva simpered to herself, “I appreciate him. He’s -- definitely been a plot twist,” 

“Good or bad plot twist?” 

“Very good,” 

Emerson smiled as she started to type on her keyboard, some of Eva’s vexations visibly released when the topic had changed to Remington. As she appreciated Remington, Emerson appreciated Eva for all that she’d done for him. He had this gut intuition, a simmering notion that Eva was going to be sticking around for a long time. And he had absolutely no problem with that.

“Can I ask you a serious question, though?” he asked.

“Of course,” Eva nodded.

“Do you like his blue hair...?” he asked with a drawling disdain.

The young brunette turned her head in the direction of the distant chatter of the boys. 

“I take it by your tone you’re not a fan,” she said.

Emerson scoffed, “He’s taking me back to the Kool-Aid dye trend,”

“Oh, Emerson,” 

[thewayshedreamed]

This Time— Part 2

A Nessian Fan Fic

Fic Masterlist

Alright, here it is! All of your responses to my first post were so encouraging, so I thank all of you for that! I was so nervous to post anything that I’ve written, and y’all made me feel so welcomed. Anyway, here’s the continuation of my angsty Nessian fic, This Time. It’s a long one, but I wanted to give some insight into Nesta’s headspace while also setting the occasion for the next part! Hope y’all enjoy it.

If you missed part one, you can find it here.

———————————————————————————-

A dull throb in her temples caused Nesta to stir in the early hours of Sunday morning. She was vaguely aware that it was raining, thunder rolling in a steady rhythm. She turned onto her back and gritted her teeth at the intensifying pain in her head. It suddenly radiated from her temples, meeting in the middle of her forehead and behind her eyes. For the briefest of moments, she wondered about the luck she had (or didn’t have) to wake up feeling like this. No recent illness, no allergies, no alcohol the night before. She blinked into the darkness as she considered, willing her cognition to catch up to her conscious state. Her answer became apparent when her eyes felt gritty as she blinked, and upon rubbing them, she felt a faint tenderness over and around her lids.

Ah, that’s right. The crying.

The events of the previous night flooded her memory.

I’m so gone for you...

You should go...

We can’t be friends after this conversation.

You don’t mean that...

The maddeningly soft click of the door echoed in her mind repeatedly, emulating the rhythm of her heartbeat. She slammed her eyes shut and turned sharply onto her side to bury her face into the pillow.

So often, people talk about the all-consuming relief that comes with waking from a nightmare and realizing none of it was real. These are the stories told at dinner with family or friends, at lunch with co-workers, or at larger social gatherings. Account after account is shared of cheating spouses, car accidents, home invasions, etc., followed by an expression of overwhelming relief at realizing it was all a dream.

Almost never do people discuss the ugly alternative. The micro-interval of time immediately upon waking where one exists in blissful ignorance, followed by the sudden gut-punch of recollection. The ambush of emotions surrounding some life-altering event.

Nesta caught herself grasping for that tiny shred of time, just moments prior, where she was only navigating a headache.

She felt her pulse quicken and her body start to flush, both being clear indicators of her heightened anxiety. Her heart thundered in her chest, and she felt a slight tremble starting to run through her chest and stomach. She closed her eyes as tears threatened to pool yet again and focused on taking a few deep breaths. She lazily reached out, feeling around until she located another pillow across her too large bed. She clutched it tightly against her chest and abdomen, willing it to ground her somehow. Tucking it close to her body and keeping an iron grip, she started to count her breaths until she finally drifted back to sleep.

———-

She had to cancel lunch with Elain and Feyre that Sunday, having slept long enough that she didn’t have enough time to make herself presentable. After explaining that she was suffering from a crippling headache (with no mention of its origin), they sent their well wishes and told her to call if she needed absolutely anything.

Her mornings persisted in a similar manner for the rest of the week. Usually one to rise on her first alarm, she couldn’t find the motivation to do so no matter how hard she tried. She snoozed her alarm a half-dozen times, finally dragging herself out of bed to dress quickly, grab a protein bar, and fly out the door for work.

Work served as a decent distraction from current events. She stayed busy and engaged, allowing her to completely ignore her phone and avoid any personal questions. She knew her sisters would be worried after telling them she was ill, and it was a matter of time before news of her and Cassian’s fight permeated their group of friends. Her sisters would likely put two and two together. Busy bodies. Fiercely loyal, protective, and supportive, but busy bodies all the same.

Several evenings that week she had received several variations of “check in” texts from them, as well as a couple of their friends.

Elain:

”Hey, Nes! Hoping you’re feeling better. Just wanted to check in and see how you are!”

Feyre:

”Just checking in, sister! I hadn’t heard from you since we cancelled lunch, so I hope you’re doing okay! Love you!”

Mor:

”Hi, love! I haven’t seen you in DAYS. Far too long. Please tell me I’ll see you soon! And that you’re alive and well. <3”

Amren:

“Alright. Spill. What’s going on with you? You haven’t responded to anything I’ve sent you, and I’ve sent you some funny shit.”

Nesta drafted one text, copying and pasting it to each and every one of them. She didn’t have the emotional energy to answer the question at all, much less several times over.

“Hey! Thanks for checking on me. I’m sorry I’m just getting back to you! Things have just been crazy this week. I’ve been busy, but I’m fine! We’ll get together soon.”

She stared at the lie over and over again.

I’m fine...

I’m fine...

Although, deep down, she knew. If she were fine, she wouldn’t keep scrolling to a certain text thread. She wouldn’t be reading and re-reading their previous conversations, and she definitely wouldn’t be focused on the date and time stamp of the last received message from days ago.

———

Nesta had been conflicted about Saturday all week long. She had very specific plans: sleep as late as her body would possibly allow, have coffee on the back porch, catch up on her reading, take a long nap, stream as much nonsense television as she could handle, have a bottle of wine, go to sleep. She had been looking forward to the peaceful oblivion of deep sleep, yet she found herself dreading the passage of her free time. It had taken a couple of days to land on an acceptable itinerary, and she felt better with a certain course of action.

She awoke to her covers being abruptly pulled away and the pillow pulled off the top of her head. She groaned dramatically and turned over to identify the offender, fully prepared to sling insults their way for interrupting her sleep. Before she could formulate a cohesive thought, a deep, familiar voice interrupted her.

“Enough of this, Nes. Get up. We’re going to brunch,” the voice announced, his tone dry and neutral.

Nesta’s eyes shot open, falling on a pair of hazel eyes that dared her to be uncooperative.

“What the fuck, Az? How did you even get in here? And what if I were naked?!”

”Look, I pulled the short straw. You’ve barely spoken to anyone all week. When you did, your responses were short and contrived. Your friends and family are worried, and I got volunteered to enter the lion’s den as the only one who isn’t afraid of waking you up.”

”That doesn’t answer all my questions,” she muttered as she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

“I’ve driven you and your sisters home on enough drunken nights to know where your spare key is. And I saw the sleeve of your sweater before I pulled the covers off. Give me a little credit.” He turned away from her to walk out of her bedroom. As he crossed the threshold, he paused with his hand on the door jamb. He glanced over his left shoulder as he said, “You have 15 minutes. I’ll be in here waiting for you.”

Nesta really contemplated throwing a full-scale temper tantrum by throwing herself under the covers and refusing to get up. A deep rumble in her stomach ultimately made her decide against it, so she stood up and padded over to her closet. She selected her favorite pair of jeggings, silently thanking the Cauldron that she had worn them once already so that they were perfectly stretched. She grabbed a sports bra and a long-sleeved tunic, put on some casual sneakers, and walked over to her bathroom to finish getting ready.

She wasn’t one for much makeup anyway, so she opted to wash her face, moisturize, and apply a little mascara. She brushed her teeth, applied a generous layer of chapstick, and quickly French-braided her hair down the center of her back. She glanced down at her phone; 12 minutes. Suck on that, Azriel.

She walked out of her bedroom, down the hallway, and found Azriel perched on the arm of her sofa, scrolling through his phone. Sensing her approach, he locked his phone and stood.

“All ready?” He grabbed his keys from his front pocket.

“Sure. Whenever you are.” She looked around for her small purse and grabbed it off of the coffee table. “Wait... did you clean up in here?”

She knew there was something different when she walked in, but it had taken her a minute to realize what. Gone were the take out containers from her countertops and coffee table. All the various cups she had left all over her apartment were nowhere to be seen, and her blankets were folded neatly in a stack.

Azriel cleared his throat and looked around. “Not really. I noticed your trash can was full when I threw my gum away, and I thought it would be pointless to bring it out and not get everything.”

She bit her cheek to stop her smile at his sheepishness. He had always been a good friend to her, but she knew he preferred when it went under the radar. No one blushed faster or got more awkward than Azriel on the receiving end of appreciation or a compliment.

“Ah. I see. And I guess the blankets folded themselves, then. Or did you need to fold them to ‘get everything?’”

“Nes, you know I cleaned up in here, so can we go already?” He was already turning toward her door, flustered and mildly irritated with her teasing. She gripped his bicep to turn him around before he made it outside.

“I’m sorry, Az. You’re a wonderful friend, and I don’t deserve you. Let’s go have some brunch and forget it, ok?”

He gave her a sideways smile and playfully shoved her shoulder. “Fine. But next time, you’re walking.”

———-

The drive over to the small cafe was short, so the pair sat in comfortable silence on the way. Upon arriving, Azriel found a small table in the corner of the patio, instructed her to sit, and walked inside to place their order. When he returned, he was holding a mug of coffee for Nesta and a mug of earl grey tea for himself.

“The food should come out in about 10-15 minutes. I couldn’t remember how you take your coffee exactly, so I just brought you a ton of shit.” He wasn’t exaggerating. He placed a handful of different creamers and sweeteners in the center of the table.

Nesta gave a small chuckle at his gesture, noting that it felt good to laugh for the first time in days. She couldn’t help but feel grateful that it was Azriel who had pulled her out of bed this morning, if it had to be anyone. They were more alike than most would assume, and they had made very fast friends all those years ago. She loved the purity of their relationship, built on years of trust and mutual respect, but never crossing beyond anything other than platonic. Cassian had always joked about being “outnumbered” around the two of them, commenting on their likeness and how he managed to find kindred spirits as his best friends.

The thought of him elicited a slight pang in her stomach, and she quickly shoved it down. She was pulled from her thoughts by Azriel’s voice.

“So. You want to talk about what’s going on?”

”Gods, Azriel. I haven’t even gotten the caffeine in my system.”

He took a sip of his tea, only breaking eye contact to blow gently on the hot liquid. He regained eye contact as he set his mug back down.

“We haven’t heard anything genuine from you in a week. Forgive us for being a little worried. I’m assuming it has something to do with Cassian?”

As she suspected, hearing his name struck a nerve and caused a certain heaviness in her chest. She felt herself becoming defensive, and even though her logical mind knew it had nothing to do with Az, she was snapping at him before she realized it was happening.

“Why is everyone acting like I’m off the deep end?! Maybe I’ve just been busy for a week. Cauldron forbid if I take some time for my damn self. And why the fuck would you immediately jump to him? As if my life doesn’t exist beyond all of you? And beyond him?” She felt herself flush out of anger. Or embarrassment. Who the hell knew anymore?

Azriel seemed almost entirely unaffected by her verbal lashing. He took a couple of seconds, leaned forward with his forearms on the table, and clasped his hands in front of him. He looked at her intensely, and she knew she was not going to get anything sugarcoated in this conversation.

“Need I remind you that I know both of you like the back of my hand? I’m not shooting in the dark here. You’ve been essentially MIA for a week, and that timespan directly correlates with Cassian being an absolute terror to be around. The odds of that being a coincidence are incredibly low. So, Nes, I’ll ask you to please cut the shit.” He voice remained even and steady. There was no true malice in his words, just the bluntness that exists between two close friends. He picked up his mug, leaned back in his chair, and waited.

Nesta’s posture softened slightly as she rubbed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and middle finger. She let out a long breath and looked up to meet Azriel’s gaze again.

“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. And I should also realize by now that you notice fucking everything.”

He merely nodded, acknowledging her apology and prompting her to continue with one simple gesture. She blew out another breath, preparing herself to explain everything. In the meantime, their food arrived, so she waited until the waiter walked away before beginning her story. She told him everything, even the uncomfortable details. Cassian’s confession. Her reaction. His anger. Her anger. The devastation on his face. As much as she could remember of their interaction. And finally, the words she couldn’t stop replaying in her mind. This time, it’s on you.

He listened intently, only offering small nods or slight facial expressions during the more intense parts of their conversation. Once she was finished, he let out a long whistle and said, “Damn, Nesta. You’re officially the most savage of the Archerons.”

“I’m sorry... what?”

“I’m not saying that to be insulting. I just meant that you kind of handed him his ass there.”

Nesta started at him, urging him to elaborate before she felt inclined to jump down his throat again. He picked up on her prompting and continued.

“Well, to be fair, Cassian’s full of it. The fact that he thought he was going to be able to sleep with you and continue being friends is short-sighted at best. Can’t blame him for trying, but considering how long he’s been in love with you, he was setting himself up for failure there.”

Now, she was gawking at him. How was he being so nonchalant about this bombshell? How long had Cassian been in love with her? And why the hell had he waited until now to say a damn word about it?

”How long, Azriel?” Her voice was so quiet that she wasn’t sure that he’d even heard her.

It was his turn to look surprised. “Are you telling me you didn’t know? Anyone within a mile of the two of you could have seen it.”

She shook her head, realizing she didn’t think she could handle the direction of this conversation. “Never mind. Regardless, we had an agreement that our friendship was too important to risk on anything serious and that it was supposed to remain purely casual. It’s done now. It’s not like it matters.”

A few seconds passed before she glanced up at Azriel. His brow was furrowed, conflicted with what he was going to say next.

”What? Just tell me.”

“Don’t you think that’s kind of bullshit, Nes? I get that you both agreed on those terms, but I think it’s kind of fucked overall. You’re telling me that the potential of a relationship wasn’t worth the risk but casual sex was worth it? That doesn’t make sense.”

She breathed sharply out of her nose before she responded. “Had the agreement been honored, we could have enjoyed our time together, and we could have stopped once life events called for it. If one of us started dating someone... if one of us moved... things like that. It’s fairly straightforward.” She wasn’t trying to hide the bite behind her words, but he still didn’t seem offended. She tried not to find his level-headedness infuriating, but her patience was thinning by the second. To her surprise, his composure slipped a little.

”And how did you think that was going to play out? You both would shake hands, go your own ways, and continue to hang out with each other as before? You would have been totally fine with Cassian dating another woman? And do you really think Cassian would be a-okay with sitting in the front row at your wedding one day? Has it ever occurred to you that you two always dislike anyone that the other dates? No one ever loves Cassian the right way. No one ever makes Nesta happy enough. Why do you think that—“

”Alright, alright! I get it.“ She held her hands up in supplication. “The fact remains, though, that it’s over. It’s done. We screwed up, and it cost me my best friend. We’ll never be the same.” She felt her eyes brimming with tears.

She was vaguely aware of Azriel apologizing for his outburst and suggesting that they head back. She forced a nod, stood up from her chair, and walked to his car. Once inside and buckled, he turned to her.

”Hey. I really am sorry.”

”Don’t apologize. You were being honest with me, which is something I’ve always valued so much in you. Don’t go soft on me now.” She managed the smallest of smiles.

“Deal. But the same goes for you. Our mutual honesty has saved us a lot of trouble over the years. Makes our friendship easy.”

”You’re right. Why couldn’t it have been us to fall in love?” She huffed a laugh, making sure he knew her comment was in jest. She turned to look at him as he finished backing out of their parking spot.

Azriel hit his brakes a little harder than usual at her words. He chuckled, turning to look at her with a small smile. “What good would that do us? What would we do for fun? Brood?”

Nesta laughed, truly laughed, at the truth in his words. Azriel made a wonderful friend to her, but there would be very little personal growth within their hypothetical relationship. She smiled at him, squeezed his forearm briefly, and said, “Fair enough. I guess we wouldn’t push each other to grow all that much.”

He continued to drive, eyes straight ahead. He still wore signs of amusement on his face, but his tone turned a little more serious. “No. We wouldn’t. I think that’s why Cassian has always been a great balance for people like us. We get way too comfortable in the dark.”

”Mmm. People like Cassian, for sure. Maybe people like Elain, too?” She gave him a knowing smile.

He pulled up in the driveway and placed the car in park before looking at her. She could see the faint blush on his cheeks at the mention of her sister, but she wouldn’t push him. She knew he was smitten with Elain and had been for some time. She hadn’t spoken to him plainly about it, but she could tell by the way they interacted that they were a matter of time. Inevitable, even.

“We’re not talking about me today. Only you.”

She giggled at his deflection. “Thank you again for today. I needed the coffee, the waffles, the venting, and the swift kick in the ass.”

”Of course. Speaking of Ellie, what’s your plan for her birthday party next weekend? You know Cass will be there.”

“Oh, man. I think I blocked that out.” She opened the door, stepped out of the car, and peered down at him before adding, ”That, my friend, is something I will have to play by ear.”

——————————————————————————-

A/N: Sorry for no Nessian interaction this time, but I just love the idea of a Nesta x Azriel brotp. I couldn’t help myself. Nessian interaction to come, I promise!

Tags are below! If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, you can comment, reblog, or message me!

@polireader // @lord-douglas-the-third // @justgiu12 // @notyournymphetish // @sjm-things // @strangeenemy

[thewriting-corner]

Over 1,000 followers. Wow. I never thought I’d get here. And because there are so many new people, I wanted to reintroduce myself for those here who have not had the once in a lifetime experience of meeting the Queen of Burnout herself. So yay for that. I suck at segues, I’m sorry.

I’m Lu, an 18 year old girl who has yet to grow up lol. I’m obsessed with superheroes (DC over Marvel, sorry), as you will (hopefully) see with my book some day. I write mostly sci-fi, though I dip my toes into contemporary and fantasy every once in a while. On this account I do writing advice, writing memes and book reviews so prepare to see me scream over fictional characters.

Some more basic info about me: I’m Catholic, from Latin America (I will not say from where) and I speak Spanish, English and German (though I want to learn at least three more).

My favorite books include the Renegades trilogy by Marissa Meyer (BEST read of 2021), The Yellow Note by MJ Padgett and The Black Reckoning by John Stephens. My current reads are basically a juggle between These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong, Ledge by Stacie McEwan and The Curse of the Night Witch by Alex Aster. Ironic as it is considering the genre of most of those books, I’m not a huge fan of fantasy.

And not as important BUT my favorite shows are Alexa & Katie, Brooklyn 9-9, Modern Family and The Flash. Also Supergirl but only up to season 4 because Lex Luthor?? Genius.

Right now I have two WIPs. One is about a 17 year old girl who discovers she can see the future and the other is about a 17 year old who travels through time to escape a man that’s trying to murder her before she murders him in 7 years. The first one is nearly finished with edits (fourth draft) and the second one is a first draft. [I watched a lot of Doctor Who, Jurassic Park and superhero shows (still do) so clearly I get my inspirations from somewhere hehe.]

Also, I LOVE giving writing advice (I mean clearly, I made a whole account for it) but if you ever need help with anything writing related, feel free to DM me. I might not always reply immediately but unless I’m super busy, I reply after a few hours :)

Lastly, I overshare a LOT on my Insta stories, however, I do not feel comfortable sharing personal information such as name, where I’m from and all that. If you find my personal account somehow, unless we’re close friends, please do not follow it. It’s uncomfortable.

I ALMOST FORGOT. I have a slight caffeine addiction. I love coffee. If there is one thing I relate to Lorelai Gilmore is coffee. But don’t be worried if you see that on my Insta stories. I promise I drink max 3 cups per day (excluding the Coca Cola intake oops).

But yeah. That’s me. A sci-fi obsessed teenager with barely any social life and a tendency to burn out. Nice to meet all you and thank you for 1k!

(And if you want to read more about my WIP I have like one or two posts on it)

[mylifeasevelyn]

Orphan

Hello dear stranger, it’s me, Evelyn. Yeah, it’s been a long time... I’ve written a lot of drafts throughout the past couple of months, but I could never finish them or wrap my thoughts properly... until today.

The past 15 months have all been about rediscovering myself after breaking free from my abuser. I truly thought it was going to be an easy transition, but fuck no, it wasn’t. The first six months were shit ‘cause she kept trying to contact me and trying fuck me up psychologically, and the following months were confusing, to say the least. Too much shit went down and thanks to the few years of free therapy I got from my shitty university, I’ve been processing everything without resorting to self destruction in the process. Ever since I broke contact with my abusive mother/the demon who cannot be named/former wife to my dad, my father and I have been sort of trying to bond as father-daughter. We have never been truly close and I truly can’t remember why ‘cause I cannot remember my childhood or teenage years. My memory is hazy from back then due to all the abuse and trauma I endured at such a young age. Anyways, overall, my life was going from ugh to meh (depression much? Lol)

Shit started to hit the fan on October 30th, 2019. I remember that day clearly because of what happened the following day... anyways, I remember asking my shrink to give a call asap. Within 30 minutes she gave me a call. I was studying at the library at the time. I exited the place and made my way to the closest place where I could speak privately. Long story short, I told her my depression was making a huge return. I was slowly but surely losing interest in the things I was doing, regardless of my feeble attempts to keep myself sane in the process. After she hang up, I kept thinking about how I no longer had anything to fight for. No real sense of family, no real sense of friends, nada. Not even a fucking a pet to come back home and take care of or something (although having a pet while being in this mental state is not my kinda thing to do tbh.) It was in that moment that I remembered that over ten years ago, I used to work as a waitress to grab some cash to eventually travel to Buenos Aires and see My Chemical Romance live, which I did (hell yeah.) Fuck, but that shitty dream of seeing them live again had ended there when the band broke up. October 31st came and well, y’all know what happened already. Having them back shook my world and gave me another reason to keep fighting this mental illness and all the other bullshit I’m still going through. The following weeks became more bearable, but still, something wasn’t right. Another month went by. It was a Wednesday midnight, I was about to get to bed when I got a text from my father, back at it again with the suicidal thoughts. He’s done this for the last couple of years, the first time affecting me so bad that I had a panic attack (fyi, we live in different cities, I can’t just go and see him right away.) Again, thanks to therapy, I’ve learnt how to take a step back and see things with a better perspective. After reading his text, I once again took the role of parentified child and tried my best to comfort him, and insisting on him getting therapy. And as stubborn as he is, he said no and started making excuses and me, as patient and comforting as I know I can be, I kept telling him that I couldn’t always be there for him and it would make me feel more at ease if he would just freaking go and see a professional. I gave him links to read and find the right therapist for him and all that jazz. I also told him that if he wasn’t gonna do it for him, then he should at least do it for his daughter. The following day he sent me pictures of him having a great fucking time with his friends while I was here, back home, fucking worried. So yeah, damn right I got angry at him. I didn’t reach back to him until the following Monday ‘cause he kept texting me and I was getting annoyed by the endless I’m okay pictures he was sending me. I gently told him to back off and give me space. More months went by and we kept being in touch and seeing each other, pretending like it was all freaking peachy, as always. Believe the lie. Remember?

January 2020 came by and a friend told me she was going to see a Queen tribute band with his dad and I thought it would be a great opportunity for my dad and I to properly bond, since we’re both passionate about music. I invited him to the show and he said yes. Another month went by and we met again. I could tell something was off about him the moment he walked through my door, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I was doing my make up while he waited for me to be done. Mind you, we don’t talk much because he is a really quiet man when he is around me, my brother and his ex-wife. The moment he started talking I could tell he was venting, and I was carefully listening and responding when necessary. And that’s when he admitted to me that he was back to doing shady businesses with criminals. Since he knows I’m not a judgy person, he told me everything in detail. The more he told me, the more my body was becoming tense, to the point where I pulled a neck muscle. But my stomach truly turned when he told me, casually, that he had given my security number to a thug as “insurance”. The moment he said that, I remembered when he, a few weeks back, had asked for my security number and I asked why he needed it, and he said it was because he’d forgotten it. I was stupid and naîve enough to trust him and he straight up lied to me, yet again. Whenever fucked up shit like this happened, child me would become paralysed or mute. Hell, I used to stutter and mumble till age 13. My teachers were always nice to me about it ‘cause I was a good, responsible student. That’s all I can remember. So, it’s safe to say that I was in shock. He kept on talking and I could see my reflection in the mirror starting to change. Shit. Not a panic attack. Not now. I don’t know how, but I managed to keep my shit together. We left my apartment. I wasn’t feeling well. Something was wrong. I couldn’t process what had just happened. I was back to being a child. I couldn’t talk. I texted my shrink. It was an SOS moment. She couldn’t call me. Fuck. My mind kept telling me what happened is wrong, this is wrong... but what exactly_ is_ wrong? Why am I feeling this way? A couple of hours went by and I was able to block those thoughts from disrupting me. I slowly started chatting again. My father was unaware of what was happening. I’m pretty sure he thought I was grumpy or something. Besides, it’s not like he hasn’t seen me this way before, lol.Either way, he never asks about me, my life. It’s always been about him since we’ve officially “reconnected.” Well, the more I think about it, since forever.

Night time had finally come and it was time for the show. Things were still awkward between my father and me, but I was somehow more relaxed ‘cause I knew I was meeting my friend and her dad. They were late and my father and I were barely talking to one another, so I said fuck it, grabbed my phone and started checking my social media to make time go by faster. And alas, my friend and her dad finally made it. What a relief. I started feeling my usual self coming back. I was back to talking and being my usual goofy self. Unfortunately, my father was being an asshole, I cracked jokes and tried my best to include him in the conversation but he wouldn’t even laugh. He would just look away, so I retreated a bit and I went back to just being awkward with him. Right before the show started, there were two empty seats with a better view right next to were my friend was sitting, so my father suggested we should go and sit there instead. I gladly agreed. I changed seats right away. I looked back, he didn’t move an inch. Instead, he was signalling me what I think meant something like “yeah, yeah, go ahead” and at this point I was looking at him, confused. I was thinking: “dude, really? We’re supposed to be here and bond. Not sit three seats away from each other. Pff” My friend’s father was cool enough to change seats with my friend so that we could sit next to each other. So, there we were, from left to right: me, my friend, her father, and my father. At the moment, I remember telling my friend: “oh good, I hope they bond and have fun since they are almost the same age and wearing the same coloured t-shirts! Bahaha” The show went on smoothly. 10/10. But part of me was still keeping an eye on my father, making sure he was having a good time. My friend would check on him and tell me if he was having fun. As I predicted, he cried while singing his lungs out to Bohemian Rhapsody. Both him and I miss her deeply. His mother, my grandmother. Anyways, the show was over and I had to get back to my dad. The moment the lights were back on and I looked at him, I could tell he had been crying, so my stupid heart and empathic soul gave him a break and tried their best to get back on more friendly terms. Unfortunately, he was back to being unfriendly with the rest of us. So much so, that he grabbed my shoulder and moved me away from my friend and her dad. Again, it didn’t feel right when he did that. That feeling felt so familiar, but I couldn’t remember why... I eventually lost sight of my friend and we got lost in the crowd that was exiting the stadium. For a moment I stopped somewhere where there wouldn’t be a shit ton of people walking all over me and I turned around to see if I see if I could find them to at least say goodbye. My father was vocal again and told me to just keep going and I insisted on trying to find them. As you can guess, I had no luck finding them. Now it was time for me and him to go to each other’s home. At this point it was almost midnight and I had to get on a bus to go back. He insisted on taking me back home (40km away.) Had I found my friend, we would’ve gone back home together, as intended. The ride back home was filled by John Williams’ score of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. I chose the music ‘cause at this point I had a headache and since I suffer from motion sickness and I was out of dramamine, I had to listen to my music. I tried making conversation and all I got back from him was “really”, “oh”, “yeah”, “oh, really?” and “oh, yes.” I was trying my best not to cry. The moment the score started playing A window to the past’s part in Mischief Managed! A memory came back. I used to lock myself up in my bedroom and play that song on loop while crying to drown out the sound of me sobbing. I also remember that whenever I cried too hard at night, the following day I’d had to wear make up on my eyes to cover my puffy eyes. I was fourteen years old back then. That was the year my father cheated on my mother and moved to my grandmother’s house, who had just passed away months prior to all that toxic drama that they always had. I didn’t cry because I wanted my mommy and daddy back together, fuck them. I cried because I had to go back to my dead friend’s house and have my happy memories turn to shit after seeing her house lifeless too. Remembering that fucked up memory puts me back on the brink of tears as I’m typing it now. Man, that’s the reason why I don’t enjoy listening to_ A window to the past _anymore. Anyways, I was back home safe and sound, him too. I was feeling mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted.  

I abruptly woke up, found myself lost in my own bed, my own bedroom, my own apartment. I shook my head as an attempt to get my shit together and that was when I heard a voice in my head say: “he was abusive yesterday. He’s abusive too, just like her.” And_ fuck_. Yes. That was it. That’s why I felt weird. That’s why I almost had a panic attack. That’s why I almost cried twice throughout the day. He’s always been this way with me. He doesn’t know shit about me. Whenever I tell him something about me, he doesn’t even remember having that conversation at all. Hell, he can’t even remember my friends names! He never asks about how I’m doing, not that I care since we’re not close whatsoever, but you know, he should at least know that since, well, he’s my fucking father. Whenever he bought me a present growing up, it was always something he liked, something he wanted me to wear. Hell, I can’t even tell how many pink pieces of clothing I’ve gotten rid of because I fucking_ hate that colour, or maybe the reason why I fucking hate that colour so much is because of how much he forced me into wearing it. He’s always been a distant father, but at least he never beat the shit out of me or told me I was fat or ugly, or that he preferred my brother over me (like my abusive mother used to do.) Then again, that doesn’t make him any less abusive. Abuse is abuse. His motto’s always been “here, have this money, do whatever.” I used to appreciate that because I thought “cool, thank you for not being nosy.” Truth is, the reason why we can’t connect, bond or whatever is because he doesn’t give a shit about me. He’s been rejoicing on the fact that I’m “on his side” now because I no longer talk to abuser n° 1. On one of my sessions, my therapist told me that the reason why abuser 1 always did her best to crush my self-steem was because she considered me competition. And I dumbfoundedly asked “competition?”. And she replied: “yes, she feels like she was to compete with you for your father’s attention.” My head exploded after that statement. Right now I can’t help but think of what she told me that way. My father has kinda well more like really, been doing kinda the same shit to me, trying to keep me as close as possible to him, to the point where he texts every other day, which he never did until now. The suicide drama, the criminal activity, and a lot more shit that I’m sick of having to deal with. Like I said before, I’ve always been on the role of a parentified child. I always had to deal with this shit _and on my own. I’ve always been the punching bag. I always had to deal with all their drama when all I wanted was to have a normal childhood. All I got instead is a suicide attempt, a decade of self-harm and a long ass history of drug and alcohol abuse, which they know nothing about because I always kept it to myself. I always felt like a burden. I always felt guilty. I was always a “crybaby” because abuser 1 used to tell me that as a kid and whenever she used to see me cry about something as an adult.

So yeah, I’m fucking done with my family. Oh, and my brother? In case you haven’t read any of my previous posts, he’s just as an asshole as the other two are. He’s violent like abuser 1, so fuck you very much, I’m okay this way. He won’t talk to me and he won’t even tell me why. The rest of my family don’t know shit about me because I was always the “quiet one” so I know for a fact that I’m most likely the black sheep for not returning to my hometown in the past year or so. Abuser 1 is very into deceiving appearances and wearing a public mask, so I know for a fact that she’s playing the victim because she can’t reach me anymore, bahaha. fml.

With this post, I can officially say that I’m done grieving the family I always wanted to have but never did. I’ve been meaning to legally change my name because my middle name is abuser’s name 1 and now that abuser 2 has used my personal information against my will to do criminal activity, I have more than enough reasons to reinvent myself in every fucking way I want and need. With that being said, if you’ve got some last name suggestions, feel free to send me suggestions. This is only the beginning of the new chapter of my life. Hopefully your new chapter is starting now or soon too, dear stranger.

                                                                                                                Never give up, always fight

                                                                                                                        Love, Evelyn

[omgmarieux]

PLANTING GARDENS IN GRAVES // Roger Taylor x Reader // Two-Shot Story (2/2)

Part ½: Death on Two Legs

Part 2/2: Planting Gardens in Graves (title inspired by r.h. Sin)

Wordcount: 4k

About the Title: The title is inspired by a book called “Planting Gardens in Graves” by r.h. Sin, but not really related to the contents of the poetry book itself. So yeah, not my title lovies.

Note: This took so long, very sorry. I’m debating with myself whether which is better way to start this part between my two drafts (for a whole week, yes). Anyway, enjoy and thanks for reading! (also I accidentally posted this earlier and boy I’m really sorry about that)

Every single hour, Roger seems to cross your mind. Even if you have distracted yourself from memorizing the procedure more, hell you can dictate it while sleeping, he still somehow manage to slip in.

‘Like? Like me? That’s a weird combination of words, especially that it’s for me.’ You said to yourself.

The laboratory practice had ended and you had finished it with flying colours. No mistakes or troubles, heck you did memorize the procedures by heart, of course you’re going to ace it with Roger. But he seems like acing everything he likes.

Since then, he started walking you back to your dorm. You never really agreed to this with him, but it always seems too late to speak about it when he’s already out there, waiting for you. Most of the time he waits outside your last class if it weren’t Biochemistry—for god knows how he found that out. Then he’ll offer to walk you home, you would say no, he don’t need to do it and you don’t want him around yet he still follows you behind; catching up to your side and talking to you absentmindedly about his day or something he is annoyed about. You rarely spoke back; it didn’t seem to be important.

“Roger, you can just leave me alone.” You said to him as soon as you saw him standing before the door of the room.

“I don’t want to.” He replied pressing hard onto the two t’s between want and to.

“You don’t need to walk me home Roger. I’m a grown up. It’s not like you’re my father.” You said as rolled your eyes at him.

“But I want to.” He replied like a whine later on. You would walk faster to reach your home to avoid further discussions with him. With everyday you walk with him, you should be comfortable with his presence but the more time you spend with him it looks like you grew an uncontrollable discomfort towards him. It’s not that you hated him, it’s just your socializing issues.

And then starts another habit of him; waiting outside your dorm early in the morning, with breakfast on a paper bag and he would give it you once you open the entrance door.

“No thanks, Roger. I already ate.” You answered him and his disappointment is plastered in his face the whole way to university. Although some days, he would offer a cup of coffee to you but you hold your hands up to refuse, and that leaves him with a full two cup of coffees to fuel himself for the whole day. He ended up having palpitations and feeling nauseous after so he never bothered to try bring a coffee once again.

Some mornings; since he discovered you don’t skip breakfast, he would bring flower instead. One stem of rose each day, or a daisy, or if he’s feeling different he would also bring sunflowers. It depends on his mood, but you’d shake your head no to him.

“Roger first of all, this is a waste.” You said after you reached for the flower. “Second, I don’t like or want it. But thank you anyways.” You’ll continue and then he would walk beside you with a wide smile as if he had won a lottery, no, as if he had found the love of his life to spend the rest of his life with. He would try to repeat it as it makes him happy whenever you acknowledge him, or simply thank him. It wasn’t annoying, but sure it was disturbing to you. You hated attention and that’s all you’ve been receiving from Roger.

As soon as finals week began, you told Roger to at least not walk you home. Less distractions for you and more focus on your academics, or just to have a valid excuse to avoid his presence. He agreed with that considering it is very important to you.

He asks few questions in the morning, trying to simulate your brain for the exam. You’d answer him and he’s glad with that kind if interaction, rather content with it. It inspires him for the whole day.

In laboratory written examination, laboratory partners are separated so he is across the room and it gave you enough focus and it kept Roger from being distracted with your presence. To be honest, it’s not a problem if Roger had stopped walking to after your classes but it did bother you. You become used to being his side every afternoon, walking back home, but when that thought crossed your mind, you thought that you’re being selfish. Giving him small hopes for your affection. Eventually, you thought that maybe if you persuade him to not fetch you in the morning, he would stop walking with you and fully giving up. You considered that.

In Roger’s side, summer is around the corner and he solely focused on his band whilst still tries to get your attention. He popped his head once in your few last classes one afternoon. “Hi Y/N!” He greets you cheerfully. And planning to ask you out to go on their band rehearsal.

“Hey.”

“I can’t walk you home today. I’m really sorry.” He apologized and you frowned.

“You didn’t need to walk me home anytime Roger. You don’t need to apologize for that.” You replied.

“Uh, but I want to.” He stuttered. “You think you want to join me and my friends rehearse?” You politely decline his offer and went home alone that day. He was indeed disappointed but he knew there was no chance of you actually going. But he didn’t think that a little hope would disappoint him this much. Needless to say, he was very hurt.

Summer came, there’s no interaction between you and Roger. It gave you time to peacefully think and enjoy your alone time but in the mid-summer, you felt lonely. Realization hit you. How you felt lonely for years before Roger pestered you. How he made you feel happy and appreciated during the times you were with him. But you can’t use him for your happiness, can you? It would be unfair to him.

You were walking in the grocery store, grabbing few snacks to survive the week. It was boring. All you did was read books and you felt extremely lonely so you tried going out for a while. Food shopping seems to be the best solution so you did went to the grocery.

“Hey death on two legs!” You turned around to the familiar voice. It was the one with the black long hair, rather the guy from the left.

“Oh hi.” You respond awkwardly with the nickname.

“Roger had never shut up about you since he met you. He speaks about you 24-7! It’s much worse, he’s my roommate!” He exclaimed but a bit of a joke sounding.

“Oh. I’m sorry then.”

“Oh no darling, it’s alright! I just want to tell you how much he likes you and how much he misses you right now that twenty four hours each day is not enough for him to babble things about you.” You blushed at his remark. You were the next on in the line. The cashier had called you out and you walked directly to the cashier.

“Darling, if you don’t mind can you please give me your number so I could pass it to Rog?” He asked and handed you a small note and pen. You half smiled and took it to write your number down.

“Thanks Y/N!” He said as he got it back.

“No problem…” You were half embarrassed to yourself that you forgot his name, but glad that he didn’t seem to notice it. Frank? Ferdie?

Hours later when you got home, the telephone rang. You hesitated on answering it, fully sure that Roger’s probably the one who’s calling. You reached for the phone and brought it to your ears.

“Hi Y/N!” That voice you heard wasn’t Roger’s; it was the one you met at the grocery store. You were hit with disappointment like a wave. As if he sensed it on the other line, “Sorry for disappointing you honey, but Roger is being a bitch, so I decided to not give him your number.” He spoke an you chuckled lightly as you heard a groan behind the call. Roger did not believe that Freddie got your number; you were not the one who would give that easily. So the moment Freddie speaks through the phone, he thought he was just pretending.

“But I think you’d rather come by instead.” He said and he dictated their address. You wrote it on a piece of paper behind your telephone thinking that maybe it would come in handy. “So that’s all darling! Hope you have a good day!” He said then he drops the line.

‘I must have seriously missed that jerk and considering that you kept the note.’ You thought to yourself. But it will take all your pride to actually show up in their doorstep. With reason or none.

It was hot, you were sweating and you hated this kind of weather. You opened your windows and not-too-chill wind entered your dorm. It’s tolerable at least. You stepped towards your kitchen and prepared a breakfast, rather an early lunch for you. And of course, a tea. Soon you found yourself on your couch again, for almost every day, this couch is your only companion. Hell, summer is going to end soon and you didn’t even do anything ‘fun’. You laughed at the sound of fun inside your head. You haven’t had that since years ago or did you had a little of them with Roger’s presence. Did you?

Few weeks to go before a new term begins. Maybe I could go back to my parent’s home? Visit for few days? You laughed at yourself with the thought again. And then what? See my old friends with their eyes dropping on me screaming “pathetic.” I guess no. You sighed realizing how really pathetic you are right now.

You looked over the clock hanging on your wall. Not even a minute had passed since you sat. Should I visit Roger? I’m really really really bored. You stood up and went to the bathroom to get ready. The whole time, you heart was racing fast. What ifs danced behind your mind.

What if he’s not home? What if he’s busy? What if he has another visitor? Or maybe he’s not interested in you anymore. If he was then maybe he would have at least showed his ass there even for once for the previous weeks. You were in the middle of wearing your clothes when you stop. Pity you. Lonely again, lonely forever.

As you finished dressing up, you sat on the edge of your bed, having second thoughts about going to Roger’s. Maybe you shouldn’t because you might bother him. But soon after debating with yourself, you gave up on your over thinking session and picked up your purse to hurry outside.

There are plenty of places to go when you’re bored; like library, coffee shops, parks, boutiques, and more. But for a person like you, you always opted for peace, which distracts you from your chaotic mind, a little. A bookstore or library is good for more moments of silence, as if you never had enough of them. So your feet brought you to the nearest bookstore. You scanned the shelves looking for interesting titles or covers. They say “do not judge the book by its cover”, yet you are here doing it. After an hour of constant gliding of your fingers to the spine of each books, ou gave up looking for one and just went to the cashier to buy a newspaper and left. Bookstore made you even more frustrated; nothing to buy, and nothing to turn your attention into.

Your feet started walking and it take wherever in the city but when you came across to a music store, you stopped on your tracks and entered it. You went straight to classics. Pianos. You needed some to calm your chaotic mind. You chose a record of Chopin and another random one before heading to the cashier to pay.

Just before you passed the records to the man behind the counter, a hand landed on your shoulder startled you.

“Sorry Y/N!” The man said instantly and chuckled. The voice of a man that made your mind a mess.

“Oh, hi Roger.” You said and you properly passed the record to the cashier. Roger was amused with your greeting. He wasn’t expecting a nice and welcoming sound from you.

“Hey Y/N, what are you up to?” He asked and you pouted directly to the record that’s being wrapped.

“Chopin? Really?” He asked and you moved your gaze at him and glared. “Sorry it’s just that… that’s your type of music?” He asked again.

“Yes.” You muttered. Because you are noisy inside my mind.

“And you? Beetles?” You asked in rude way and raised your eyebrow at him.

“Uhh, yeah.”

“See? The kind of uncomfortableness you feel when someone indirectly criticizes your choice of music.” You replied as he too paid for his record.

“So sorry about that. I wasn’t expecting you to have that taste.” He nervously laughed. “What are you doing after?”

“Getting a coffee.” You said. A coffee?! You didn’t even plan on getting a fucking coffee! Your mind went south. Did I sound like I’m inviting him to come? Was that too needy?

“Can I come?” He asked, looking somewhat desperate and you stopped yourself from panicking then a small smile formed in your lips.

“Yeah no problem.” You replied as both of you left the store and stroll to find a café.

On the counter, you insisted to pay for Roger’s coffee too. “It’s just because you have maybe spent too much before for those flowers and morning snacks.” You reasoned out.

“You don’t owe me anything. It’s really alright.” He replied as he tries to shove his money to the cashier but you’re holding his arm to prevent it. You gave an apologetic look to the cashier before turning your eyes back to Roger.

“But I want to. I stopped you before but you didn’t, so let me, please?” You gave him your puppy eyes that were never used ever since and he was instantly stunned. He wished that it would last forever. And you took that opportunity to pay for the bill. You gave a cheeky smile at him and led him to an empty seat.

“Oh no you’re doing too many things today, you are freaking me out.” Roger said as he sat in front of you.

“What?”

“You doing that eyes thing, and you smiling. Too many improvements today, I love it!” He said to you and your forehead crinkled. You realized that you’re having too much fun today. Oh there’s the word again. Is this really the effect of his presence to me? How much did he actually change in you? Your mind was once again clouded with thoughts. You snapped back in reality when the waitress served your coffees on your table. Although it made your forehead fold when he gave Roger a knowing glance. Okay, was that jealousy? You thought to yourself.

“Excuse me.” You said as you stood up heading to the restroom’s direction, you talking to yourself in the back of your mind. What the hell we’re you thinking? So what if the waitress is flirting with the man you’re with? You’re not even on a date. You sighed to your reflection in the mirror. Here we go again, the pathetic moments in you. You walked back to your table with Roger. It was full of silence, it was awkward to you, but it was comfortable to him.

“Rog I want to go home. Thank you for the time.” You said standing up.

“We didn’t even talked.” He said frowning.

“Ah, yeah sorry, maybe next time?” Your mind was panicking as you pick your cup and your belongings and quickly exit the café. Roger did not catch up behind, you were walking—no, running too fast.

That day, your mind drifted back to Roger once again during the night. You had let yourself do some ‘accepting or rejecting’ with all what happened and as when you were all set up to get to sleep, your brain screams Roger and there you couldn’t fall asleep.

You decided to write. Write your feelings instead. Maybe it will help you get some things off your mind.

Hi Roger. I like you. Then you crumpled the paper and threw it to the trash. And since that, you started asking yourself questions, more likely shouting those questions to yourself in exasperatedly manner.

“What’s the perfect first line?”

“Why are you thinking like you’re going to give this to him?”

You stopped yourself there. If writing your feelings about Roger would help ease your clouded mind? Will it help to silence your heart if you send this to him?

You started writing again.

Roger, I don’t know what you do to me. You crumpled and three it again.

“What the hell! Why is this so hard?” You screamed to yourself. And you sighed. Roger Taylor your serious effect on me is killing every inch of me.

Again.

You put your mind aside and let your heart talk. If you want to really have peace with this the letter should come from your stupid heart, in that way it would be sincere. Your mind will regret it later, but your heart wont.

Soon after you finished the letter, you folded it in half and insert it in the envelope; then sealed it with a wax seal. You addressed the envelope to Roger’s name and took the paper containing their address.

You stood from your chair and grab your coat. You glanced on your wristwatch. 10 pm. It’s definitely okay to walk around this late. You comforted yourself, though your heart raced again from nervousness about walking alone this late at night, and of course the letter itself.

You stepped outside and mumbles their street in your head countless of times. You know that street; just few blocks away. It took you full ten minutes to find their apartment; a three storey house. You slipped the envelope on their mail and walked back home. Your heart still racing as fast as before until you fell asleep on your bed.

Dear Roger,

I wanted to say I had so much fun spending time with you.

I’ve never actually felt this since a really long time and if I’m being honest, I disliked your eagerness but in the end it’s one thing about you that I admire the most. You never give up, and it’s a really good personality when you’re pursuing someone.

During those days you pick me up in the morning, or babble random topics in class, and walk me back home, I don’t like you then but I’m alright with your presence. I found myself longing for that when summer came, when I almost never saw you again.

You never really came in the best time; you caught me at really bad, dark, and lonely moments of my life; to the point where I would consider myself dead, not literally, but since you called me death on two legs, I guess you get it.

You planted gardens in this grave you know? You never left pieces of you because in the end, each and every of them would grow. You planted happiness in my lonely life, and instead to move on from it, I started looking and accepting it. I have never ever felt complete once again, and it only shows when I am with you.

Thanks to those lonely summers without you, I’ve come to realized this.

Love, Y/N

Roger stood up from the dining chair and bumps on the dining table that caused to spill Freddie’s tea.

“Roger! What are you doing?” Freddie hissed.

“It’s Y/N!” He said as he waves the paper in the air with excitement.

“What?”

“A letter from Y/N!” He screamed again, happiness is overflowing in his whole body.

“If that’s a confession then I would be happy for you. If not, shut up please.”

“IT IS!” Roger shouted then and Freddie stood up quickly to jump with Roger.

“How did this thing get here?” Roger wondered out loudly and stopped on this feet. “If this is a prank Fred, I’m going to kill you.” He said nervously and stares up to Freddie.

“No! I told Y/N our address, remember?” He replied cheekily.

“What!?”

“It’s was Y/N’s number I dialed before. No lies darling!” He replied.

“Oh shit!”

“Now go off and get your princess there!” Freddie said as he waves his hand shoving Roger off.

“Yes yes yes I will!” Roger ran. He made it to the door of your dorm in less than ten minutes, in which a normal pace could get you there from his apartment. He knocked or more like banged your door. He was thrilled, excited, if they say butterflies are in your stomach, hell the wings felt like there were angels instead. But ten minutes of knocking, still you weren’t out.

He overthought about the situation. Analyzed what happened. If he were just imagining things. But he glanced down on the paper he’s holding, there lies your confession. He was scared for the moment. What if you confessed your feelings because you were leaving? You’re never the one to tell someone your feelings that easy. What if you planned on confessing right before you’d leave? But why would she leave? Roger thought. But all of it was pushed aside when he hears footsteps towards him and he quickly looked where the sound came from. It was you; an eyebrow is raised to the sight of Roger, and his visible sweat in his shiny face.

“What are you doing here?” You asked and your eyes fell to his hands where his fingers clutch the paper in him. Your lips formed a small smile and looks back at him.

“This… uh…” Roger stuttered as he lightly backed away from the door and you unlocked it.

“Come inside?” You asked when the door opened. He nodded and steps inside as quickly as possible as if you’d shut it close before he could get inside. You chuckled at his actions.

“I-Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“Is this all true?” He asked as he raise and waves the paper to you. You focused your vision to the paper and frowned.

“What’s that?” You asked as you bit your lower lip stopping yourself from smiling.

“Oh, was this not you?” He asked and he sounded so disappointed; very disappointed.

“Oh yeah, it was my heart.” You replied and started to walk towards your room. He stumbles as he follows behind you.

“What really?” and his mood changes instantly. His voice sounded squeaky and his legs felt like a jelly. “Can I hug you?” He asked when he held your wrist to stop you.

“Yeah?” He pulled you and engulfed you with a hug.

“I can’t believe this.” He whispered. “This doesn’t seem to be enough.” He added and you felt his lips grazing your ear.

“I know what you want.” You replied chuckling.

“Hmm yeah? Can I?” He asked lightly pulling his face away to look at you.

“No.” You said and laughed. He nuzzles his face on your shoulder.

“Damn it.” You laughed more. “But really? Planting gardens in graves? Funny metaphor. But I like it.”

“You do?”

“Yes. What have I planted in you besides happiness?” He asked, hands never leaving your body.

“Love.” You replied and smile.

“You sure you don’t want to kiss me? Because I’m hella sure this is where the part we need to do so.” He reassured and you laughed at him.

“I’m sure you could plant various of things to me—” you stopped when he snorted and started laughing. You hit his chest when you realized what he was thinking about. “But I would appreciate if we go slow. Let them grow before planting a new one.” You said and you held him closer to you. “And I think hug is enough for now.”

Roger did not complain. In fact, he’s already contented finally having you to him, no matter how very slow paced everything your relationship with him.

Tag: @rtyler19 @rogxrtaylxr —if I’m honest, I’m still thrilled with tagging omg, Lmao thanks!! (sorry for second tag? I accidentally posted this earlier but I wanna keep my words.)

[iwriteficsandmore]

At long last

I promised it would come. And I finally had the time to finish it. The first chapter to what will eventually be my hawks x oc fic, which I’m tentatively titling “Interview with a Winged Hero”. It might seem long compared to what I usually write here, but that’s my usual length for chapters most of the time. So, here it is. Really sorry about the grammatical errors and everything, especially if it’s disrupting. It’s almost midnight and I needa get up in five hours for school, but wanted to post this before anything else. 

Thing is though that it’s about 26 pages long. Can’t really post that here without making a mess.

So here’s where they’re posted on FF and AO3.

I’d really ‘preciate some input on how it’s looking :) I’m hoping to edit it in the future (if not fully on rewrite it) and get on writing the ch2 when I get time. But enough of that. I’m sure you guys need some convincing to click those, so have a little preview under the cut ♥

|Five years ago—Tokyo|

The blinding blue light of her computer screen reflected at her from the glass of red rimmed glasses, tiring her sight and making Miryoku reach underneath them to rub at her tired eyes.

Fourteen straight hours of researching online about the up and coming 'Winged Hero' and the next eight writing up a rough draft of the article snatched most of her day up without her noticing. She had gotten too into this without meaning to. Much like everything else that caught her attention, it absorbed her and blinded her to her surroundings. Even gramps knew not to bother her when she was like that and had only left her some taiyaki for her to snack on when she waved off going downstairs to properly eat dinner.

But even that small period of starvation proved useless when she had spent the last couple of hours stuck while writing. For as inspired as she had been, it proved harder the further she wrote into it. Each time she reread what she had, it only made it all the clearer how superficial it all sounded. It hadn't bothered her too much at first. It was just some lousy contest that she was writing this for after all. But she couldn't help it. No matter what it was for, this was still something she wrote. It was a piece she put heart and time into. It was something that interested her for once. And because of that, it was easily becoming a work of pride for her. As such, just any half-assed written paper wouldn't do. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it the right way.

That 'right way' though continued to elude her way into the early hours of working.

Now at 3:54 in the morning, her stomach rumbled in blatant criticism of her poor health decisions. She was dying of hunger which only added to her already carved in frustration. And surely gramps had only bought the taiyaki for dinner like he always did when she left him to fend for himself where food was concerned. There wasn't anything in the fridge either since she hadn't gone grocery shopping with how engrossed she'd become working on the dumb article. How is he still alive after living like for all these years? Resigning with a hefty groan, Miryoku leaned back in her chair to stare at the dark ceiling of her room for a minute.

"Guess konbini bento it is."

Jumping out of her chair, Miryoku snatched a spare jacket from the floor along with her wallet and quietly sprinted down the stairs of their home, making extra sure that her grandfather was asleep before shoving her shoes on and walking out the front door. Sprinting halfway there, Miryoku felt her chest burn as the icy, winter air entered her lungs finally making her continue in a brisk walk instead. Donning her jacket and pulling the hood over her hair, she adjusted her glasses that had slipped down her nose and stared up and head through the empty streets of her neighborhood.

So quiet and peaceful. Despite being a short distance from the apex of Tokyo, where her gramps lived was part of the more dilapidated part of town. More seniors lived around these parts than anything and though it had great dining options, they weren't places that meritted going without company. Which is why she thanked her lucky stars that a konbini was within fair walking distance from their house.

Miryoku didn't take long to pick out her bento and a few choice items before heading out with a hefty bag full of snacks in hand. It was while mindlessly walking ahead while struggling to put her wallet away in her back pocket that a chill ran down her spine a moment before a large hand snagged said item from her grasp.

"Hey!"

The thief didn't spare her a glance as he ran off at full speed. It took a moment of grounding herself before Miryoku sprinted after him too with her bag hanging behind her. "Get back here, you bastard!"

But keeping him in sight proved harder than she thought though with how badly in shape she was. Soon, Miryoku noticed him getting further and further away and when she thought she'd definitely lose him, she took a last ditch effort to stop him. Grabbing the bag full of snacks in both hands, Miryoku sprinted with all she had before hauling the bag and everything in it right at the thief's back. True to its aim, the heavy bag struck him and made him lose momentum but didn't make him stop.

No!

But just as she thought he'd surely get away, small flashes of red darted past the corner of her vision, the light from the streetlights making their color all the more vibrant as they caught the thief's clothes and shoved him to the ground with unbelievable strength, effectively pinning him in the street for good measure.

Miryoku stopped in her tracks, breathing heavy and shallow as she adjusted her glasses again to get a better look of what'd happened. Half her groceries were scattered on the floor, and not far from the thief her wallet itself, but what caught her attention most were the large crimson feathers that pierced through the man's clothes and deep into the asphalt street.

"Sorry 'bout that!" The carefree tone that floated above her made her turn skyward just in time to see a blur of red fall a few feet from her. Miryoku covered her face from the rush of air that fell on her and blinked at the large, crimson wings that unfurled before her as the owner turned to face her.

Amber eyes stared back at her and a satisfied smile spread across the face of the man she had spent the whole day learning about.

"Oh, here," Hawks said, sprinted up to her wallet that was the nearest thing to him and passing it on to her. "Gotta say, you're lucky I heard ya when I did otherwise there'd go your money. Nice hit, by the way, though your groceries might've suffered some casualties."

Miryoku blinked in utter disbelief as the man bend over to readily pick up the snacks that had stumbled out of the plastic bag when she threw it. Seeing him do this snapped her out of her stupor but just when she was going to help him pick the rest off the streets, she got caught off guard by the flurry of red feathers that effortlessly went about picking up the rest. In a matter of minutes, Hawks approached her with an open bag as his feather deposited the items they retrieved and passed on the full bag back to her with a grin on his face.

"Here ya go."

Carefully, she took it in her hands, thanking him under her breath and watched him from a few feet away as he dealt with the thief. Curious and without knowing, Miryoku mindlessly followed him back to the konbini where he and the cashier took care of calling the police. She honestly didn't know why she stayed behind and waited with them for the authorities to arrive but when they did and she gave her statement about what happened, Miryoku finally decided to head back home when she found him busy talking to the police. A small part of her had wanted to talk to him if even for a few minutes. Just a few words to help her out of her writer's block. But that was too much too hope for. Even she knew that. And even if the opportunity had risen, Miryoku would've no doubt spoiled it somehow with her more than lacking social skills.

Decidedly leaving the konbini behind, she stared down at her feet as she walked through the empty streets. Her mind reeled with what had just happened despite the quietness that surrounded her. The blur of red that flashed right before her eyes—it reminded her of lightning, but faster. Much, much faster.

Too fast.

"Miss, dontcha think it's unsafe to walk by yourself about what just happened to ya?"

Vibrant red blocked her vision for a moment before amber eyes met with hers. Miryoku yelped out and held a hand to her chest from the heart attack that the winged man gave her by appearing out of the blue in front of her. Mumbling under her breath, she kept looking back and forth from where she'd left the konbini behind and him questioning from where the hell he'd come from.

A bubbly chuckle came out of him as he landed before her, his huge wings tucking themselves behind him as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Leaning on one leg, he tilted his head and grinned, "Sorry 'bout that."

"It's alright," she said. Looking back once more, she stared back at him confused. "Not to be rude but what are you doing here?"

"Oh, right!" The feathers on his wings rustled when he perked up, startling Miryoku a little from the sudden movement. "I came here 'cause I thought you'd want a ride home with the police after what happened."

"I don't need it," she quickly retorted.

"Ya just got mugged though."

"And I'm fine." Miryoku couldn't help being miffed at his insinuation. "I thank you for helping me back there but I'm not that helpless. So thanks, but no thanks about the ride. Besides, my house is pretty close by. I'll be fine getting back by myself."

Hawks' brow furrowed and his nose scrunched up as he frowned. Seemingly at odds with himself, he rubbed the back of his back for a moment before his eyes widened in realization and he smiled that goofy grin back at her again.

"Then let me walk ya back!"

"No thank you."

Not waiting for his answer, Miryoku sidestepped him and walked off on her own. That didn't last for long before she heard the soft flapping of wings following behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she glared back at Hawks who stopped dead in his tracks, hovering a few inches off the floor as he followed behind her with a nervous grin.

"Ya don't have to give me that look."

A small tick grew on her jaw. "I already said no thanks." She gave him her back and kept walking ahead despite still hearing the soft beating of his wings as he flew behind her, "And besides, don't you have a mugger to report?"

"The cops took care of him, so my job's done where that's concerned."

"Then you should head home yourself. It's quite late to be out and about."

"I could say the same about ya, missy."

"Yeah, well…" When she couldn't come up with anything, heat rushed up her neck and to her ears. "I seriously don't need you to accompany me to my house."

"What kind of hero would I be if I didn't escort a lady like yourself?"

"One with too much time on his hands, that's for sure," she mumbled under her breath.

"Ha!" Hawks laughed finally flying beside her, his lower feathers brushing carelessly against her arm. "You couldn't be more wrong, missy."

"You really don't know when to be quiet, do you?"

"It's a gift," he coyly replied.

Miryoku couldn't help but sigh in frustration. Who in their right mind would've thought the youngest hero with an agency of his own, a prodigy of his generation, would be such a handful to deal with?

Thankfully, her house was only a short walk back and Hawks landed just at the foot of the few steps that led up to the front door of her house. Miryoku stepped back and nodded to it as she climbed the last step up, hand already on the doorknob.

"See? Not that far."

He scoffed but that grin never left his face. "It's hard for ya to say 'thanks,' isn't it?"

"No, I do," she rectified, more than peeved about that comment. "I said it before. I also said that walking me back wasn't needed. Quite a waste of your time if you ask me."

"Eh, that's kinda subjective if ya ask me." Hawks shrugged his shoulders before flapping his wings to get a good few feet off the floor. "Well, have a goodnight, missy." He saluted her with a couple of his fingers, "Be careful on your next late night stroll!"

Miryoku was about to retort at the cheeky remark but before she could, that heap of red dashed out of sight leaving nothing but the faint blur of crimson in her vision. She shook her head as she went inside and quietly headed to her room with all her food. Sitting back behind her computer, Miryoku stared at the screen where her article laid open and half written. But despite wanting to focus, she found herself thinking over and over about their small conversation in those few minutes of a stroll.

She leaned forward to cradle her chin in her hands and reread her article, his words replaying in her head as she concocted an image of the young hero.

Brash. Reckless. Chirpy.

Precocious sounds better.

"...the precocious man…"

She twirled the pocky stick in her mouth with her tongue and stopped at the sound of what she'd mindlessly spoken. Letting it sink and liking the sound of that, she bit down on the treat and stretched back before going back to typing furiously at her keyboard.

[majesticmarais]

Happiest Place on Earth (II) | JA

So this is the second part to happiest place on earth, which I will link here, so read part 1 first if you haven’t already! I got a few requests to do a part 2! Hope you like it!!

Requested: yes

Warnings: Swearing probs

Summary: Y/N finds herself in LA, and decides to take Jack up on his offer to catch up after being broken up for over a year.

Word Count: 2000 (that was so satisfying to know)

A/N: I know I’ve had a lot of Jack imagines recently! I have a Jonah one in my drafts but I’m not sure if I want to post it. Leave me some requests!!

You had landed in LA at around 3pm. You had to fly in for a small YouTube conference since your channel had been growing more and more. Since you loved LA and missed living there, you decided to make it a week long trip, even though you were only needed there for a day.

After leaving the airport, getting into your uber, and driving 30 minutes, you had finally arrived at the hotel you would be staying at. You thanked the driver as you climbed out of the car, grabbing your luggage from the trunk. 

Once you checked in and reached your room, the first thing you did was flop face first onto the bed, closing your eyes for a few minutes and relaxing after the crammed flight.

You took your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans and began scrolling through social media, posting a Snapchat quickly.

The thought of Jack flew through your mind quickly. It had been about a month since the two of you ran into each other at Disney world thanks to his little sister, Isla. He had mentioned the two of you getting together the next time you were in LA. You considered texting him and seeing if he was busy, but you shook the thought as you assumed he was simply trying to be nice to you at Disney.

You trotted to the hotel bathroom, your makeup bag in hand and began doing your makeup for the day since you hadn’t put any on for the plane ride here since you had gotten up way to early to have the energy to put it on.  As you were blending out your eyeshadow, your phone vibrated on the counter beside you, causing you to switch your eyeshadow brush into your other hand so you could pick up your phone.

To your surprise, you had a message from none other than Jack, asking if you were in LA. You had forgotten he still had you on Snapchat and most likely saw it there.

Yeah :), you answered, not putting the phone down as you waited for his response, assuming it would be fairly quick like his responses always used to be.

Why didn’t you tell me? Doing anything today?

Nothing specific!

I’ll come pick you up, we can hang out!

Sounds great!

You smiled to yourself and told Jack the hotel you were staying at before placing your phone back down on the counter to finish your makeup quickly. 

Soon enough, you got a text from Jack saying he was outside, so you grabbed your purse and shut the door behind you, speeding down to the lobby and out the front doors of the hotel to be met by none other than your favorite curly haired boy.

“Hey!” you exclaimed, greeting Jack as you both walked back to his car.

“What do you wanna do?” he asked.

“Ice cream?” you asked, raising your eyebrow playfully. When the two of you were dating, ice cream dates were always one of your favorite low maintenance things to do.

Jack began driving and the two of you switched between making small talk and singing to the songs playing on the radio.

You finally made it to one of your favorite ice cream shops. You had tried probably almost every single one in LA, and had narrowed it down to 2 that you both considered equally amazing.  You both stepped out of the car and walked in, Jack ordering for both of you, already knowing exactly what you wanted, which made you smile brightly without even realizing.

“Hope you didn’t change your order,” Jack laughed as he handed you your ice cream and you sat at your usual table.

“Nope, hasn’t changed!” you grinned, reaching into your purse for money. You handed the bill to Jack and he shook his head, telling you it was his treat. You knew he wouldn’t take it from you, so you didn’t argue and put it back in your purse.

After you guys talked about what you were doing in LA and what Jack and he boys had been up to, you had finally felt it was okay to ask a question you had been dying to know since you last saw him.

“So, are you seeing anyone?” you asked, keeping the smile on your face so it seemed friendly, not threatening.

“Nope, you?” Jack laughed, lifting his eyebrow.

“Good one, but no,” you chuckled, taking another spoonful of ice cream.

“I’m surprised. You’re so great I figured everyone would be chasing after you,” he winked, causing a blush to begin to form on your cheeks.

“You flatter me, Avery, but that is not the case,” you replied, shaking your head.

Sitting with Jack as you both laughed together and talked about anything and everything had made you feel the way you felt over a year ago, when you and Jack were inseparable. You felt like you were home again, with his sparkling brown eyes that had regained the brightness they had lacked the last time you saw him. The way you guys never felt weird around each other, and always had the best time.

Not a day went by that you didn’t think about Jack, and how much you missed him. You always tried hating him for leaving you, but all the good times, the memories, and most of all the love you had for him could never be masked or replaced by hatred. The only thing you could say was that you hated the fact that you still loved him just as much as you had when you first fell in love with him.

After staying there for a few hours just talking, you guys had decided you should probably leave. You asked if you could go back to the house with Jack to see the other boys again, and he happily agreed. You had wanted to surprise them, and you missed them.

Being with Jack had made you extremely close with all the other boys, but after your break up with Jack you shut them all out, feeling too hurt to talk to any of them. You had occasional conversations with them over social media, but you missed the close bond all of you used to share.

You felt extremely nostalgic as Jack drove up the hill to the house that you used to be in every single day. The home that housed so many memories from the best years of your life up until now.

Jack opened the door and you entered, sneaking into the lounge area where Jack claimed the boys would all be together. None of them noticed when you entered so you cleared your throat, causing all of their heads to flip in your direction simultaneously.

“Y/N?!” Corbyn exclaimed, jumping off the couch and running to you, squeezing you tightly.

“Hey Bean,” you smiled, hugging him back just as tight, tears slowly rising to your eyes out of happiness.

You hugged all the other boys, all of them surprised and ecstatic by the fact that you were back here after not seeing you for so long.

“We missed you so much!” Jonah gushed as he rested his chin on the top of your head like he always did.

“I missed you guys way more, fact,” you joked, pushing Jonah playfully.

Your heart felt full now that you were back here with the boys, your best friends that you had neglected out of heartbreak, you felt horrible about it, but that feeling was fleeting as you were so overwhelmed with joy.

After eating a huge amount of take out and watching movies together, you had ventured upstairs to go the bathroom. As you walked down the hall you stopped in front of the door that was once the door to your room in the house. It was originally a guest bedroom but since you had spent so much time here because of Jack and the boys, it had become yours.

You looked around to make sure no one was there, not that they would care, and gently opened the door, stepping into your room. 

The bed was still perfectly made, your grey and purple bed sheets left there. The closet was empty apart from the hangers you had left, but some paintings you had left were still hanging on the beige walls. The desk had remained as well, with two framed pictures of you and Jack still there, beginning to gather dust.

You walked over to the desk and picked up one of the picture frames, dusting it off with your hand and looking at it. It was from your birthday, it was a candid photo that one of the other boys had taken of you and Jack laughing together and looking at each other, and it had become one of your favorite pictures.

You heard the door creak behind you and turned around quickly, jumping slightly.

“Watcha doing?” Jack asked.

“Just wanted to see what my room looked like now,” you shrugged, the picture of you and Jack still firmly held in your hands.

“Not changed,” he smiled, looking around. It even still smelled slightly like you, I guess since it was basically untouched and unused ever since you moved out. 

You glanced down at the picture another time, and looked back up at Jack, your heart sinking to your stomach.

“Why did you leave me?” you asked quietly, not even sure if he would hear.

“W-what?” Jack stuttered, taking a step closer.

“We were so perfect together, so happy. We had everything going for us, Jack. Look at us even today, everything is so easy and fun when we’re together. Why did you leave me?” you repeated, the feelings of heartbreak flying back into your body, as if somehow the picture was making the feelings flow through you,

“Honestly, y/n, I can’t even give you a good answer,” he mumbled.

“Try,” you encouraged.

“I think I was just scared. I loved you too much and the thought of being so in love with someone so young terrified me. I thought that touring would make things hard, that I would mess up or the distance would get to us. I was selfish, and wanting to save myself before I got even more hurt in the long run.” he explained softly, averting my gaze just like he did on the day we broke up.

“You’re right, you were selfish,” you agreed, putting the frame back down on the desk. “I would have done anything for you, Jack. I didn’t care about distance, I was willing to work through everything because I loved you, and you threw me away for nothing.”

“I know. I regret it every day. If I could do that day over, I would, because being without you is so hard. You were my girlfriend and best friend,” he said.

“I tried so hard to get over you, but I love you too much. For some fucking reason I just love you so much and I wish I could make it stop because you don’t even want me anymore,” you said, a tear streaming down your cheek.

“You...you love me?” he asked, looking you in the eyes this time. You simply nodded.

“I never stopped loving you, y/n. I never stopped wanting you either, I just wanted to make things easier,” he explained, “but now I know it was the wrong decision.”

He took another step towards you and you could smell his cologne and hear his breathing. He leaned closer and gently pressed his lips against yours, causing your breath to hitch in your throat and your heart to race.

He pulled away and looked at you as a grin spread across your face.

“At the time I really believed that if you love something, or someone, you should set if free,” he said.

“And if it comes back, it’s yours,” you finished the saying, crashing your lips against Jack’s once more.

[riathedreamer]

For Red Team’s “Matchmaking” Make Me a Match Palomo starts a matchmaking service while Grif and Simmons serve as the example of the perfect couple.

Jensen hesitated before asking, “No, seriously, what are you doing?”

Before Palomo could even open his mouth, Bitters groaned loudly, “Don’t get him started again.”

But it was too late. Before anyone could stop him, Palomo had spread his papers all over the dining table. Some of them included colored diagrams, most of them in a shade of blue.

Jensen took a closer look at one of the papers, briefly wondering whatever the connection between ‘number of comic books’ and ‘maximum outcome’ could be, before she asked, “I am still not quite sure what you are doing.”

“I am getting a girlfriend!” Palomo announced proudly, earning another sigh from Bitters and an amused nod from Smith.

After another glance at the colorful papers in front of her, Jensen asked gingerly, “So you’re adding theory to this plan?”

“Well, Captain Tucker tried to help me out at the last party with, you know, talking to girls but…”

“But he got rejected,” Bitters finished for him, twirling a fork between his fingers. His dinner tray lay untouched in front of him as the conversation stole his attention from the food. “Four times. At the last party alone.”

Jensen winched behind her visor. “Oh. Sorry to hear that, Palomo.”

“Yeah…” He sighed but then suddenly cheered up again. “But Captain Tucker said it was only because I had not found the right girl yet. So that is what I’m doing.”

After a couple of seconds with confused silence, Bitters cut to the chase, “He’s starting a matchmaking service.”

“Oh.”

“I still feel like you are leading them on,” Smith commented shortly and tilted his head to send the papers a displeased glance.

Palomo shrugged. “I am leading them to me. That makes it okay.”

“So it’s not an actual service?”

“Depends on how much service you see in signing yourself up and immediately get paired with Palomo. He’s the only male involved so far.” Bitters let out a snort. “You almost sounded disappointed, Katie.”

“This whole project is still depending on girls actually signing up,” Smith reminded Palomo who was keeping himself busy by scribbling down notes.

“But we’re in a war zone!” Palomo reminded him with a tsk. “Love always blossoms in a war zone. Besides, I am offering two free cans of soda.”

Bitters snorted again, a bit more laughter to it this time, and doubled over slightly. “Why not use a picture of Smith’s torso as clickbait while you’re at it?”

“Don’t get me involved in this.”

“We share locker room with you, Smith – we’ve all seen your abs.”

Palomo ignored Bitters’ suggestion and instead looked up to ask, “I just need to get the questions right. So I can sort the girls. We should start with the basic – ‘what are you doing for a living?’”

“Fighting. Which can be said about everyone. On Chorus. In the last five years,” Bitters reminded him dryly.

“Okay, maybe that was not the best question. Ooh. Rebel or Fed?”

Jensen made a disapproving sound. “That’s very judgmental of you, Palomo.”

“I just want to find the girl with smallest desire to kill me.”

“So you’re going with the Feds then?” Bitters concluded. “I mean, the Rebel girls know you.”

“Huh. Good point,” Palomo admitted and scribbled down the question.

Then, across the mess hall, a shriek rung out, “I am going to kill you!” None of the eating soldiers as much as flinched – this had become the daily routine by now.

“Geez, Simmons, take it a bit harder, would you?” An orange-armored soldier entered the hall, quickly followed by a maroon soldier who seemed to be breathing down his neck.

The Lieutenants continued on undisturbed, letting the argument become background noise. Palomo looked up at his friend on the other side of the table. “You got any ideas, Katie?”

“I guess fellow interests are a good start. Some common ground.”

“Do you have any idea of how long I spent updating that terminal?!” Simmons continued to yell some tables behind them. “And you just wrecked it again by trying to download that filth!”

Grif walked calmly as if unaware of the cyborg screaming at him. “Well, I didn’t know your nerd  stuff was that fragile!”

“Of course you didn’t! You don’t know shit!”

Palomo waved off Jensen’s suggestion. “Nah, too open. I don’t want to read two pages about shopping. I’m going to have a lot of answers to sort through. I need a quick system.”

“So short fun questions then?” Jensen caught on while collecting Palomo’s papers into a small pile. “Like… What would you spend a million dollars on?”

“Snackcakes, Simmons, snackcakes. I’m telling you – it’s the solution. If Kimball wants better working morale around here, I say free snackcakes to everyone. Might even get you to stop yelling at me as the first fucking thing in the morning.”

“I wouldn’t have to be yelling if you had not destroyed all my hard work with your dirty habits!”

Bitters was slowly unwrapping a snack bar from Gold Team’s latest raid when his head perked up at Jensen’s comment. “Like that’d do any good. Chorus doesn’t have dollars. Or anything worth a million.”

“It’s a hypothetical question, Bitters.”

“So? If we think hypothetically, Palomo could imagine any girlfriend he wants.”

“I want a girl who is willing to praise me. Boost my self-confidence,” Palomo declared and added it to his list.

“So you want a girl to give you a high-five?” Bitters concluded, crushing the wrapping paper into a small ball in his hand.

“I think I have to agree with Palomo on this one,” Jensen said softly. “I wouldn’t mind being in a relationship where we openly express our admiration for each other.”

Bitters threw the ball back and forth between his hands as he snorted, “Is this the high-five club?”

“I don’t understand how anyone can be that stupid!” Simmons groaned loudly. The Captains were slowly making their way to the Lieutenants’ table.

“You’re the one who didn’t add a fucking password in the first place!”

Jensen shrugged at Bitters’ comment. “No, just some sweet nicknames every once and again, I suppose.”

“Dumbass.”

“Nerd.”

Bitters’ visor hid the way he rolled his eyes. “So serenades? Full-blown love confessions?”

“I hate you.”

“I hate you more.”

Jensen straightened out her back. Both Smith and Palomo instinctly inched backwards a little, knowing she was about to enter her scolding-mode. “Now you’re just being bitter, Antoine. It’s not like you have a relationship to brag about.”

“Yeah, neither do you. Or Smith. Or Palomo.”

“Just give it a few days!”

“It’s not going to work,” Bitters told him sternly. Crossing his arms, he waited for an argument to start, well-knowing he was capable of proving his point.

“What is going on here?” Simmons asked, causing all the Lieutenants to jerk slightly. The Captains had now finally reached the table and were staring down at Palomo’s colorful plans in confusion.

“Well…”  

Before Palomo could begin his explanation, Smith folded his hands and replied calmly, “This is Palomo asking Jensen on a date.”

All the helmets in various colors first turned towards Palomo, then towards Jensen who was blushing so much it could somehow be seen through the visor.

The two Lieutenants briefly shared a glance, both rubbing their necks awkwardly.

“Sure,” she finally said in a light tone, avoiding visor-contact. “I never minded being a test subject before.”

“Well, that sounds romantic.”

“Like you’re the one to talk, Grif,” Simmons immediately barked at him. “You don’t have an ounce of romance in your body.”

“Half my body’s yours. So my ounce may have been crushed by the tank. So that’s Tucker’s fault.”

Simmons was just about to retort, finger already half-raised into a scolding position, when Palomo suddenly exclaimed, “You guys can help me out! What did you do on your first date?”

The two Captains both turned their heads towards him, the tension leaving their bodies as their stances slumped into one of confusion.

“Wait… What?”

“You don’t call it dating after marriage, Palomo.” Bitters leaned back in his chair. “After that it’s like obligated social sessions.”

“Who the fuck said we were married?” Simmons asked. His voice was very loud but thin, close to cracking had the suppressed annoyance not kept it stable.

The four Lieutenants slowly shared glances, suddenly unsure of how and whether they should continue the conversation. Eventually it was of course Smith who tried to explain, “Captain Tucker insisted-“

“Is he still doing that?!” Simmons sputtered, almost losing his grip on his tray.

“Apparently,” Grif replied with a shrug. He kept his gaze on the table, serving as a calm contrast to the maroon soldier who was freaking out next to him.

“So you all believed…”

“‘bout the marriage thing?” Bitters finished Simmons’ question and nodded. “Sure. Had my doubts ‘bout the name tattoos though.”

Simmons froze, the horror of the realization hitting his body. “What?” he asked, voice wavering by this point.

“It would be a bit overkill, I suppose.” Jensen looked up at her Captain. “I mean, the skin drafts and cyborg limbs do tell the story. Tattoos probably aren’t needed. Unless for aesthetic reasons.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Simmons declared, tray shaking in his hands. “I’m going to kill him, and then I’m coming back to kill you.” He turned his head sharply to send Grif one last dark glare before storming out of the mess hall.

Grif snorted and then called after him, “Hey, when you scold Tucker, tell him that just because he got a name tattoo doesn’t mean we’re that lame.” When Simmons was out of hearing range, he chuckled slightly under his breath and let out an impressed whistle as he turned towards the Lieutenants again, “Man, it’ll take forever to wipe that blush off his face. Nice work by the way.”

“Thank you, sir,” Smith replied proudly, completing his second achievement of the morning.

Palomo sent Jensen another smile through the visor, before turning towards Grif, a hand on the forgotten bunch of papers on the table. “So about that first date…”

“Two words for you, kid: Vegas Quadrant.”

[emmadeforests]

Hey Now

A fic set in @fandomfishie's Eurovision Part Of Town. Manel Navarro and Nathan Trent's bromance has, at this point, reached epic proportions, and so this meant that of course I had to write a fic about it. I should add that this is NOT meant to be shippy in ANY WAY. This is just meant to be the beginnings of the ESC17 squad in the EPOT - similar to how the first interaction of the Baltic Boys, Douwe, and Ivan might have gone. Disclaimers, as usual, apply. This should not be shown to anyone mentioned in the fic or otherwise involved with Eurovision in any official capacity. -- Nathan isn't sure how long exactly he's been in this town, but he knows it hasn't been long. There's a really great waterfall here, and a ferry. And a GREAT bar. The food here is just generally wonderful - although he leaves out the casino's ice cream bar. He leaves out the casino. Nathan's pretty sure that at least one little kid is subscribed to him. He doesn't want to set a bad example. "In this town," he writes, "the thing you notice first is how welcoming everyone is. Everyone is just so lovely. I've made a new friend! His name is Kristian and he works at the coffeehouse near the college side of town. Great kid - but scarily tall. And the place has good coffee, won't lie." Inviting management, great service, a killer barista - Nathan's considering checking out the open mic night too. He saves his draft and shuts his laptop. "Hi everyone!" Manel types. "This little excursion is going great so far." He proceeds to talk about all the cool opportunities one can get in the Eurovision Part Of Town. While he's had fun, he thinks the place lacks a place to surf. He isn't sure if that body of water is a lake or an ocean - Nodi and Sophie, who gave him the tour, didn't specify - but either way it looks like something he could surf on. He hopes his family and friends back home enjoy this post. He thinks he'll go out tonight - he heard about this karaoke night thing on the radio on his way back from the waterfall tour. Sounds interesting. Manel saves his draft and heads out. Nathan gets there early. People are still coming in. He hears little snippets of arguments - "but I can't decide if I should sell suits or just be a gym"; "she's dyed it orange, Rykka has no standards, I swear"; "Timur says it's an immigration issue, but I worry it's because transportation has something against Monika and this is their twisted way of dealing." Seems like there's always something happening here. Manel arrives later. A guy named Brendan he'd met on the waterfall tour is dueting to a Beyoncé song with some other man. It sounds nice, Manel must admit. But he'll top that. Nathan sits down and listens to two people duet in French, a man and a woman. The man, Nathan gathers, is Amir, one of the more celebrated residents of the Eurovision Part Of Town. A real people person. His duet partner is less known. Alma, her name is. Nathan is trying to find out more about her when the next act starts. His friend from the coffeeshop singing some Ed Sheeran number with some guy in a tropical shirt. It sounds...nice. Calming, almost. Manel approaches Beyoncé guy after, while most people are buying drinks or socializing. "You did good earlier," he says. "You too," the guy replies. "I'm Nathan." "Manel." "Cool. So what do you do around here?" "I'm a travel blogger." "What? No! Me too," Nathan laughs. They exchange cell numbers and plan to meet at the park the next day. The park, Manel has ascertained, is less of a gathering place than the bar or coffee shop and is really just the property upon which they hold the farmer's market, but they two figure it's a good enough place to meet. Close to lots of other places if nothing else. Nathan goes back to his hotel room and finishes up his blog post. "The open mic night - or karaoke night, or whatever you want to call it - really encompasses the spirit of this town. Anyone who wants to sing is welcomed, and whatever they want to sing is fine. It's an inclusive policy I'd love to see in other towns." He clicks post - but then the wifi goes out. "Dammit!" he says, and runs down to be angry at the manager. She calls her tech guy, but somehow everything is up and running again before Sergey can even get there. Nathan tries to access his post again, but the draft is gone. He's annoyed, but too tired to deal with it now. He'll rewrite it in the morning. Manel types his finishing sentence and ends with an emoji, as has become his trademark. He's about to click post when his computer restarts. Cursing, he frantically hits his computer numerous times, but no dice. It won't let him turn it on again until night has given way to dark and early morning, and by then he knows there's no hope of rescuing his post. He gives up and goes to sleep. Everyone is abuzz the following morning. Something has happened. Nathan wonders if it has anything to do with the wifi. Manel is there already. Nathan offers his hand for a handshake and is promptly pulled into a bro hug. This is fine. They chat. About karaoke night. Each expresses interest at getting to know the other's duet partner. Nathan is surprised to find that Manel also experienced laptop issues the night before - although an unexpected restart is an entirely different bear than a wifi outage. Manel suggests going to the creamery. So there they walk. And chat. Manel learns that mountainous areas are Nathan's favorite places to blog about, and he shares his predilection for the beach in return. Once they arrive, they find - who else but Brendan and Kristian! The four take a table together and deliberate over what to order. "I've been dying to try this strawberry brownie thing," Brendan says. Kristian offers to split it with him - the servings are rather large here. Manel and Nathan opt for a huge cone of vanilla ice cream, with every topping on offer. It's an...interesting choice to say the least. "It's a mess," Manel comments distastefully upon first seeing the mound of crushed candy, nuts, and virtually anything you could ever think of putting on ice cream. "It's a beautiful one, though," Kristian replies. The four are joined by Robin and Imri, although most of their time is spent bickering over what kind of business Robin should have. "I just can't go on with this," Robin says. "Do I open a gym or a suit shop?" They are unable to come to an agreement - even less so when Aleksander and Jowst show up and monopolize the conversation. About what, Nathan can't be sure. He's lost in the fun of it all. The sunlight is fading by the time most everyone else has left and Manel is alone with Nathan again. Nathan suggests the coffee shop for lack of anything else to do, even though Kristian's shift is long over and Rykka will likely be the only person there. Nathan bemoans the lack of sushi in the Eurovision Part Of Town, and Manel suggests, why doesn't he start a business? Nathan laughs, but Manel remembers his irritation that there wasn't a good place to surf - the water near the lighthouse would be perfect - and that's when the idea hits him. Nathan is people-watching. He notices a man with a mustache and a young woman with dirt on her overalls take a sip of their coffee and make disgusted faces at the exact same moment. Both begin to yell at the barista, but Rykka laughs calmly and points to their cups. One says Francesco, the other Francesca. They'd grabbed the other's order. Nathan laughs at this, but only later does he register what Manel had been saying - "Why don't you start one, then?" The men go to their separate hotel rooms and write a blog post. "Hi friends. As you might have noticed, I haven't moved on to a new place yet. Sometimes it's hard to figure out what you want to do and so you just explore places. I had to meet the right people first, but I think I've decided to settle down here. Maybe I'll start this up again someday. Who knows?" They each click post. It works. They walk outside to the park, satisfied with their decision. It's night. Many people are gathered. There's a brazier now where there wasn't before. A woman in a wheelchair who works for the mayor goes to light it. And as Nathan and Manel outline their plans for their futures in the Eurovision Part Of Town, the flame burns. -- NOTES: 1. I completely forgot that Amir was the EPOT dentist while writing this, which is why I don't mention him in any more detail. Kristian's job came from a conversation with Sev. 2. I don't know if there was a park before but there's one now ok 3. The Julia Samoilova issue sort of runs in the background here. If the other writers want to go more in-depth with it that's fine, but what I had happen is Monika lighting a fire in commemoration (in a similar manner to the moment of silence held after Ovidiu disappeared). 4. The sushi thing comes from Nathan's profile video, where he says sushi is his favorite food. 5. @esc-is-for-eurovision told a story in the discord about a similar coffee mixup and it made me laugh so I used it.

[cynthiadshaw]

What’s the Most Important Lesson You’ve Learned Along Your Journey?

Every twist in our story, challenge we face, and obstacle we overcome is an important part of our story.  These difficulties make us stronger and wiser and prepare us for what’s ahead.  As we grow and succeed we may imagine that soon the challenges will fade away, but in our conversations with business owners, artists, creatives, academics, and others we have learned that the most common experience is that challenges never go away – instead they get more complex as we grow and succeed.  Our ability to to thrive therefore depends heavily on our ability to learn from our experiences and so we are asking some of the city’s best and brightest: What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned along your journey?

Alisa Popelka | Founder + Principal Interior Designer of Alisa Cristine Interiors

Premoe Photography

As an entrepreneur I had to learn to define what success meant to me and forget about what success is to everyone else. Being a solo (entrepreneur), I learned that I needed to accept and be okay with the fact that the journey to achieving big goals is going to take me longer than a firm with a team. With the heavy influence of social media it’s so easy to get caught up in the comparison trap, and be hard on yourself for what you aren’t accomplishing when in reality you need to celebrate and honor how far you’ve come. All of those small wins lead to achieving big goals so I’ve learned I have to give myself some grace and keep moving forward everyday to better my business and hit those milestone moments.

alisacristineinteriors.com  @alisacristineinteriors @alisacristineinteriors  

Alex Mauricio | Dallas and Tampa Realtor®

REAL is a huge piece of the term REAL-tor which makes authenticity so important for a Real Estate Pro. Be honest, ethical, moral…and most importantly be yourself! You still have to have the intellect and real estate chops to back up your credibility as a competent agent, but as far as getting your foot in the door to start a conversation with a home buyer or home seller, being your true self will set you apart. In this day & age, an important part of why a client chooses to hire a professional is based on how they connect with YOU! Your quirky sense of humor, your funky personal style, right down to your adorable regional accent all makes up who you are as an individual. As a newbie, I thought I needed to portray myself in a certain way to be successful. I studied top agents in my area and took note. Luckily, I learned very quickly that we all have something unique to bring to the table. It’s one thing to learn tips and tools of the trade from your peers but you don’t want to become a carbon copy of them. People are savvy enough to see through disingenuous behavior. Do YOU, do what comes naturally and the rest will follow!

ClassyCozyCasa.com @SpecialAgentAlex @AlexMauricioRealtor 

Rachel Lisle | Family Nurse Practitioner

Marci Brooks Photography

Throughout my journey as first an Emergency Nurse and transitioning to preventative care, I have learned to never stop asking questions. In order to improve yourself, you must have the desire to learn more, hone your skills, and be up to date on current guidelines and research. Asking questions and wondering “what else” allows you to see outside the box and dig deeper. Everything new begins with a question or a hypothesis. Applying this ideal to patients is a great tool to find the root cause of an issue and therefore better serve them. Continuing to apply this lesson has helped me expand my view of medicine to include traditional, holistic, and functional medicine. I desire to continue to improve and be a life long learner by always asking more questions.

integrativemedical.com  @rlisle_integrativemedical  @rachel.lisle.92

Rachel Dixon | Biology Teacher & owner of Bossmaid Pickelz “Koolaid Picklez with a Southern Twist”

John Jones

For me, the most important lesson I’ve learned on my journey are the reflections I’ve made on my life and the improvements made from every downfall. As cliché as it sounds you must truly believe in yourself in order to stay focused on your journey. I feel as though we were all put here to be and do great things in this world. And there’s a path for everyone to take. I have learned how to be my biggest fan and go after every burning desire I have with the highest expectation that I can achieve and succeed. Not a care for how many times I’ve failed much confidence that success will come overtime. This is my journey -Rachel Dixon

@Rachels-Bossmaid-Picklez @bossmaid_picklez

Melina Flabiano | Founder and CEO, Keaton

Female Founder Collective

Don’t wait for perfection. I’ve heard this advice many times, but as a lifelong perfectionist I always struggled to adopt it. When I first started Keaton I would spend hours creating content for social media or drafting e-mails to advisors and investors. I became frustrated that I wasn’t progressing fast enough. I’ve shifted my mindset to bring customers and advisors on the (often messy) startup journey with me. I’ll share behind-the-scenes content rather than perfectly edited photos, or ping advisors with a few topical questions when I need help instead of waiting to have the perfect answer ready. At first, this approach made me feel more vulnerable, but overtime I’ve realized that letting people see the imperfect reality can be very helpful, and really enables me to get feedback early and make adjustments accordingly.

wearkeaton.com @wear.keaton  @melina_flabiano

Southside Luke | Recording Artist

Julliet Abraham

The most important lesson for me has been learning how to choose to free my mind. I find that with all of the art that I’ve released, whether it be a song, a video, or even a photograph, I would overthink and over analyze myself to the ground. I was held down by my own insecurities and irrational feelings of how it would be perceived, especially by those who knew me or have met me personally. I had a talk with a close friend once about the difficulty of releasing myself as is, unapologetically and without caution. It was a talk that nearly brought me to tears to be honest, and somehow it really stuck with me that I couldn’t keep playing it safe or consider anyone else’s opinions when it comes to the art that I create. I found that one of the biggest ways I was able to break those chains was by starting out with just being brave enough to do something as simple as hitting that “share” button and letting another piece of myself enter the world, and just live… Again, unapologetically and without caution. And once it was released, and living, and breathing, and a real part of this earth, that’s when I started feeling the most growth and the most freedom I had ever felt. Learning to allow myself to live outside of my head as much as I live inside of my head has pushed me to heights I had only fantasized about before. This past year has been the toughest year of my life, mentally, emotionally, and physically; but it’s also been the year I’ve created the pieces of art that I’m most proud of.

@southsideluke @southsideluk3

Maize & Honey | James & Izzie | Content Creators

The quality of building real connections and not worrying about reaching certain metrics is a valuable lesson we have learned. Remembering the reason we started this project, and the passion we both share for food, will always be what keeps us aligned to our mission. We believe that food is a unique device to unite people. We seek to explore and share different dishes from all cuisines, understand the history of meals we eat everyday, and learn how food relates to the story of who we are today.

@maizeandhoney  maizeandhoney.com

Kiera Malowitz | Declutter Coach with Real Life Decluttered

When a client comes to me, they are typically stressed and overwhelmed by their clutter. It takes time and energy for us to work through decluttering as well as them developing new habits for the future. My most important lesson so far has been the realization of how good I feel when I see my clients feel so much less stressed and overwhelmed. When we finish a decluttering project, it’s like a weight has been lifted off their shoulders and I can see how much relief they have from when we started. I share their sense of accomplishment and it amazes me how much happiness I feel for them.

@reallifedecluttered

Kerrick Williams | Servicing Director & Personal Coach

I’ve learned that adversity is inevitable, but being defeated by it is optional. We have to condition ourselves to keep pushing, even if you can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. That makes the satisfaction of achieving your goal even sweeter.

@kwlifecoaching

Priya Thakur – Research Analyst | Zee Ramani- Strategy Analyst | Parth Badhiwala- Business Analyst | Ankur Patel- Dental Student

The most important lesson we’ve learned in our journey is to always be honest about our ratings. When we started our Instagram page, it was only meant to be shared with a few friends. However, once it started taking off and we realized our followers are depending on us to point them to some of the best food in Dallas, we made it a priority to be completely transparent while putting a creative spin with our captions and Belly Meter to cater to our audience!

@3idiotsea

Mario C. Ramirez  | Gastronomic Entrepreneur

1- Demographically speaking you don’t need a Mexican community to open a Mexican Restaurant anymore and be successful (not only in the US but in the World) 2- Tex-Mex food is fading out and it ll go away sooner than later 3- Real, honest and traditional Mexican Food 🥘 its claiming it’s position and place in the Gastronomic and cosmic Universe  This are just 3 simple lessons that Mexico de 1,000 Sabores will show to the World  in less than 35 days

mexicodemilsabores.com  @mxde1000sabores facebook.com/events/345247999705036/

Lyle Scovell | Co-Owner, CYL Sauna Studio | Tory Foster- Co Owner, CYL Sauna Studio

This is a toss up for me. There are two things I find myself saying out loud or just to myself every single day. The first is that “if you have to say you ‘is’, you ‘ain’t.” The second is that EVERY single person is carrying around an invisible backpack of heavy shit. Always error on giving the benefit of the doubt. -Lyle Scovell.

The most important lesson I have learned along the way is that the more we express our gratitude, the more things we will have to be grateful for. -Tory Foster

cylsaunastudio.com  @cylsaunastudio_dallas

Priscilla Walker | Entrepreneur & Cosmetologist

Failure is always an option. When I fail I have an option to see the good or the option to see the bad and to do something or do nothing at all, I let those failures keep me going, I let those failures shape my success and see them as opportunities to grow, open new doors, So I pick myself up and try again. Wasn’t always this way, I was tired of it all, gave up on myself, everything and everybody, I felt drained, I planned, researched for days, study everything, had notebooks with pages of notes. never saw a well planned out research idea happen for years. And to be honest I still haven’t. But its all about determination. Last year failure could’ve taken my life, but I chose to commit my life to God. He designed a path for me to be an entrepreneur, and I know with every fiber of my being, I am. This year, I have launched my company website PriscillasPalace.com, Purchased my dream car, and now I am being featured in a magazine, Life is not always about the success but failing and doing better. I have learned to let my light shine, to be a role model, and that this life is full of opportunities designed for failure that make life exciting and worth fighting. I still put in the same amount of work if not more, only this time I use my downfall as my fuel. The most important lesson, I learned is to not give up on my self, put God first remind myself that failure is my choice to make. If I fail I can stay in the mindset of failure or  I can take all my knowledge from failing and turn it into a multi billion-dollar company. Which I don’t know about you but only one of those sound good to me, so choose to fight.  “let your passion out way your pain” – TD JAKES

@PriscillasNailPalace  PriscillasPalace.com  youtube.com/channel/UCd1XFtmIUIVNlycvH8H1E-w

The Mom Who Eats  | Food Blogger | Aspiring Photographer

@themomwhoeats

Time doesn’t heal all wounds and sometimes life forces you to rediscover yourself. It is uncomfortable, scary, and often a frustrating journey. However, the only one standing in your way is you. You can choose to give up or choose to take your wounds and move forward with them. It requires you to be brave and to learn how to drown out the “excess noise” that’s in your life. The only peace we need to seek is that from the Lord and the peace from being honest with ourselves.

@themomwhoeats

Autumn Black | Podcast Host & Digital Nomad Influencer

I am not meant to be everybody’s cup of tea. I am my own very special unique flavor and it’s not up to me who likes it and who doesn’t get it. It is up to me to show gratitude to those that like my flavor, appreciate my style and pour into me. That’s how you stay determined to keep going.

@queenxpod linktr.ee/queenxpod

DFW Apartment Locator (Licensed Realtor) & Lifestyle Influencer

To never get too attached to a season in my life because it is only temporary. Every season serves its purpose and is only preparing you for your succeeding one. So I now focus on finding the lesson in it, then learn and grow from it! Life is all about growth and change. Once I stopped asking God “Why is this happening to me?” and started asking myself “What is God trying to teach me here?” it changed everything! Things don’t happen TO you, they happen FOR you and in order for your situation to change, you need to change! It’s like one of my favorite speakers says “don’t wish it were easier, wish you were better”. (Jim Rohn) So now I seek opportunity for growth in those tough seasons because I know it’s only preparation for the next one!

@itsjustamandaray  @AmandaRay__  youtube.com/user/TheAmandatrevino

Xochitl Paola | Health & Fitness Coach

Most important lesson that I’ve learned is that failure is a part of the journey and we shouldn’t try to avoid it or be afraid of failure. We should expect and embrace that failure will eventually lead us to our end goal, in fact every failure is teaching us how to do better next time. Don’t let the possibility of failure hold you back from chasing your goals and the life of your dreams!

@xo__chill

Joy Turner | Sports Phenom

The most important lesson I’ve learned so far is to really stay grounded in your purpose, and to never compromise who you are for anything or anybody . The main reason I’m doing what I’m doing is to show females that you can reach a high level of recognition and success by simply staying true to who God has created you to be , without compromising your morals or devaluing yourself as a person. I have been tempted the same way, but I always have to remember who God created me to be .

@joydeangela

PerfectionPhotoz | Portrait & Artist Entertainment Photos Since 2013 & Still Going

The Most important lesson I’ve learned in my journey IS Patience & Hardwork Through Wanting Too give up Keep Going Putting Out Content stay Motivated. Every Season is Different Is Different Month Is Different.

@matt.swaggseason @Perfectionesp

  Jacquelyn Horn | Health and Wellness Coach( Nutritionist) & Blogger

The most important lesson I’ve learned during this journey is that failure is absolutely necessary. Failure increased my passion and created that extra push to not give up. There are times that I still want to give up, but then I tell myself failure is not a step backwards. Failure is the greatest lesson, and it is imperative that we endure such pain to be able to strive for greatness. With out failure I wouldn’t be able to educate others on how to maintain a healthy lifestyle.

jackiesdiaries.blogspot.com @jackiesdiaries_

Annie Pipkin | Nutritional Therapy Practitioner student and Lyme Survivor

We learn a lot about ourselves when we go through trials of adversity and hardship. Beautiful things can come out of our extremely painful experiences. They can be molded and shaped into purpose, letting us be a light for others still struggling in the trenches. Be that light that the world needs so badly.

@nurtureandheal  nurtureandheal.com

Alec Stewart | Graphic Designer & Digital Cowboy

Support your local community, give back to your local scene, and show the same amount of love to your peers and friends and their awesome, creative pursuits as you do to celebrities you don’t know! Ya’ll in this together – work together to prosper together.

@alexander_steward

Dana Bean, Jazmine Forte & Annessa Young | Hosts | Black at Work Podcast

Accepting that everybody’s story is not going to mirror ours and that’s okay. There’s always something to learn. What we love about our show is that all of our guests are organic. We don’t know them, we don’t know their stories and we’re hearing what they have to say for the first time with our listeners. A lot of them truly surprise us. The best part about our show is that these super talented, dynamic, resilient people get to come and share a piece of their lives with the world and the impact—not only for us, but the people that listen ends up being great.

blackatworkpod.com  @blackatworkpod Facebook: @blackatworkpod @blackatworkpod youtube.com/results?search_query=blackatworkpod

Erin | Content Creator

10 years ago my advice was always aligned with “never cross oceans for someone or something that wouldn’t cross a puddle for you.” But now, at 30’ish, I first and foremost realize I’m not at all worthy or experienced enough of giving advice via nature illustrations!! Secondly, my mentality has switched. Now if someone asks, my question back to them is always, “why wouldn’t you? Do it. Cross oceans, climb mountains. Without conditions or expectations.” Because when you do things in love, whether it be people, work or your your circumstances without setting a bar of expectations you find contentment. You find the ability to be thankful for the praiseworthy moments when they do happen and you should celebrate. Otherwise you will miss it all. It’s exhausting living your life based on conditions. And honestly when you realize how liberating it is to love yourself and others without perimeters, the second part of your life begins.

But I probably read that from a Wheaties box or an Oprah magazine so don’t quote me on that! ✌🏻

@toddler.frat.house

Kerstan Warner | Fully Developed

@anniedevinetx

When I first thought to create Fully Developed, I was at a point in life that we all have to face: What am I going to do with my life? Starting the podcast in March, the vision I had for where we’d be today is a little off from my reality & honestly that’s the beauty of it. When you decide to create something of your own, you seldom think of the obstacles that you’re going to face. I wasn’t thinking of the times when money would be low, when creating content didn’t flow as well as other days or when plans you have for your vision just isn’t what pans out. Some things aren’t always in our control and the ability to accept that and move forward in the best way that I can is the biggest lesson I’ve learned thus far in this journey. After accepting this truth (which happened very recently) I’m excited to see where Fully Developed will go and the growth in each and every perspective that comes on the show.

linktr.ee/fullydevelopedpod  @fullydevelopedpod

Adrian Muñoz | Diyer | woodworker

Be patience and take pride in your work and just keep on building.

@Dallashmww @Dallashmww

MerryMakers | Balloon Artists at The Southern Cross

Choose to start every day with a good mood, and every day can be a good day.

trinitytreetops.com/southern-cross-dallas  @SouthernCrossDallas @SouthernCrossDallas

Nadia Fernandez | Visual merchandiser | designer | model

My journey has been tough, as most will agree but it hasn’t ended. So the most important lesson that I have learned and still struggle to embrace today is to not give up. This journey has its ups and downs and what seems like detours or even dead ends but what I’ve started learning and picking up on is that they are nothing that can actually stop me. Often the detours lead me to something new, something I had not previously thought about or even considered and all those new things including the dead ends have shown me that I’m in charge of how far I go. It’s just a matter of whether I am willing to keep going or stop, and stopping is just not an option.

@nadia.fern12 @nadfer12 @multi_media_mind_photography

Michelle of Wild Little Moon | Motherhood & Lifestyle Blogger

Surround yourself with positive, loving, supportive people. Be the light. Love God, love others, love nature. Happiness is a way of life. Appreciate the little things.

@wildlittlemoon

Jade Moon | Gas Monkey Babe Model

David Hardy

To never give up on yourself, no matter what everyone thinks or what they say. No one controls your future but YOU!

@JadeMoon.Kyla

Dawson Lobb | Public Figure

The greatest lesson I’ve learned so far in my journey is persistence. I’m nowhere close to where I want to be, but the only way i’ll grow is persistence. As long as you keep at it nothing can stop your growth, and stop you from achieving your goals. It takes a lot of time effort, but most importantly persistence.

@dawsonlobb snapchat.com/add/dlobbdagoat  vm.tiktok.com/88P5FS

Angikay Loth | Health & Wellness Coach

Jessica Loth

The most important lesson I have learned on my journey is it’s never to late to start where you are.

One of the things I teach my clients is mindset. On your journey don’t use age as an obstacle. No matter what your age it’s never to late. Start today!

angikay.com  @angikay  linkedin.com/in/angi-loth-51056159

    Nicole Carouthers | Actress | Writer | Director | Producer

The most important lesson learned, is to never give up pursuing my passion.

@NicoleCarouthers17

Trinity Forest Adventure Park | Courses include multiple obstacles, zip lines, and free falls

Kyle Sharp

Live like your dog: sleep in, share snacks, and celebrate everything.

trinitytreetops.com @TrinityForestAdventurePark @TrinityForestAdventurePark

Danii | Dancer | Choreographer & Singer/Songwriter

I used to be afraid. I used to be afraid of failing and afraid of what others thought of me. I used to be afraid to speak or to even ask\demand for my wants and needs. My fear prevented me from being the best I can be for myself and it put limits on my freedom as an artist. One day I heard someone say that shyness was a fear or expressing yourself. After hearing this my journey changed forever. Finding my voice and learning to dream without fear is the most important lesson I’ve learned in my journey thus far. I know that fear is not a feeling from God so what is the opposite of fear? I know that through God I inherit whatever my heart desires, so why am I not where I desire to be? The only thing that was keeping me from my destiny was fear of the unknown. It’s was not easy to let go of fear, but once I did I was able to dream without restrictions. I now choose to take a leap of faith every time. I am fully committed to the uncomfortable feeling of growth and I have no limits.

@itbedanii Soundcloud.com/itbedanii “Intention” by Danii streaming on all major platforms

Griselle Gonzalez | Personal Trainer

Invest a lot of time in yourself, empower yourself with books and supportive people. Challenge yourself every day, learn, take actions that you are scared about- take risks. Never loose sight of your goals and dreams in life. Be patient because change and growth takes time but it will all be worth it.

@indigrisi

Brenda V. Olivas | Pro. Hairstylist & Makeupartist

To believe in myself wholeheartedly and trust patience is the key to it all. Almost a decade of doing what I love has taught me to always take the risk. For years I held back on fears of not being good enough or being rejected. When I finally let go of all those insecurities I found a new love for the reason I even started my own business. I did it to make others feel beautiful about themselves the way I do when I color my hair or put a little lipstick on. I see beauty in everything and everyone. Sometimes I feel it just takes the right stylist to bring that out in someone. Seeing is believing and when I turn my clients around in my chair and I see those smiles and eyes light up , That’s It’s! That’s the joy, the love, the reason I do it all. It just took coming out of my own comfort zone and believing everything is in god hands to be able to have the success I do now. Patience is a hard lesson to learn for anyone, loving myself and believing I could accomplish anything I set my mind to in my own time is the key to my own success.

@BVArtistry @bv_artistry

Ashley Portals | Mindset & Confidence Coach | owner of Realm Coaching

Many of us have been conditioned to see failure as bad, and as a sign that whatever you’ve failed at “just isn’t for you.” Instead I’ve learned to embrace failure as a teacher, a stepping stone to something greater, or how to do something better the next time around. Pulling out a lesson from our failures and welcoming what we gain from the experience is something I encourage in my coaching practice.

runyourrealm.com @realmcoaching

Maria Cruz | Paper Florista

@kittyboo_

There are many things that I have learned and still learning, in a world we’re everything is “help me and I will help you” you kind of fall into a pattern of let me see how much I can get out of the situation. I have other colleagues that do the same thing and they always advise me pick your prices higher don’t sell yourself short, its never enough it’s always to low! They tell me. I learned that when you start doing something you love and greed gets in the way, it’s stops being something you love it becomes WORK and the reason I started my own small business was precisely because I did not want to work a job that made me feel prisoner of my life. And when greed comes into play that’s exactly what happens you become prisoner of money of greed and everything that involves. Don’t get me wrong of course i want to make money. I am a mother of four and I need to bring the bacon but being honest. Now three years in this business I have learned how to price, how to help my customers and be smart about my business. I can say we never stop learning EVER but with the right mentors around and a little patience I have learned allot.

@katys_flower_wall

Ariel Danise | Entrepreneur and Brand ambassador

hollyjphotography.com

The most important thing I have learned so far is to keep my peace. No matter what comes up or how bad a situation is I have to stay positive and in control of my thoughts and emotions in order to make the best decision moving forward.

youtube.com/channel/UCjrQTEfgwkxDbPxWSHfxV2w @ariel.willis.585  @arieldanise

  Sweet Things of Midtown | Dallas Local Cookie Bar

If you envision it, don’t stop until you make it happen. I wanted to make sure this product left an impact on customer’s taste buds and heart, which is why each box includes a unique personalized message. I’ll just say, this vision wasn’t easy to bring to life. The saying “be willing to do what it takes to be successful” is not just a cliche’. I’m still learning that to be a successful entrepreneur truly requires coming out of your comfort zone, thinking outside the box, and willfully making sacrifices to obtain something you cannot yet physically see.

sweetthingsofmidtown.com @sweetthingsmidtown @Sweethingsmidtown

Neha Bhargava | Blogger/ Writer and Digital Marketing Strategist

Finish what you start and start what you believe you can finish. I believe in weighing my options even before I start making decisions. You just can’t bite more than you can chew. There is no redo in life. Whatever decisions you make today, you will be living with them tomorrow.

I have learned to believe that giving up is not an option.

Relationships, marriage, kids, career, business, you jump in with a mission to be successful. Focus all your energy on it. Believe in it. Fight for it. Like there exists no other way. No other way to look at. There is just one thing to do- work hard towards it, finish what you started, and you will be surprised at the contentment you feel with the outcome. I have noticed that when I put everything into achieving my goals, I walk with no regrets. And that is exactly the future I want to live in.

themomhoodtales.com  @the.momhood.tales  @The-Beautiful-Mama

The post What’s the Most Important Lesson You’ve Learned Along Your Journey? appeared first on Voyage Dallas Magazine | Dallas City Guide.

source http://voyagedallas.com/2019/08/16/whats-important-lesson-youve-learned-along-journey-2/

[kaluluwakatauhankutsilyo]

To Neil (probably a draft)

The original plan was to finish this before Christmas and ask the Post Office to deliver it to your house. I actually started on time but it got on hold because I figured there are people who I should be thanking first. So I set this aside first then went back to it a day before Christmas. Knowing that the artwork’s delayed already, I was targeting to give this to you on New Year’s but then I got busy. I worked on this again nonstop after New Year’s and after a few days, I finally finished it on January 10, 2018.

I was thinking of giving it on a random day in January but I didn’t feel doing it. I was thinking of Valentine’s Day but I figured it would be very cheesy. I thought of your birthday so I checked the date. It was still less than 4 months away but then I pushed with the idea.

I decided to give this to you for your birthday because simply it is your day. A time to celebrate your existence and how you made an impact in this world. If I gave this to you on Valentine’s Day, it would be weird for me, because it’s like giving it for the sake of love and that’s not the only reason why I made this. Shareet Haha pero yeah haha.

You might be wondering right now what’s the reason for all of this. Why would I give an artwork that was made for days and place it on black frame accompanied by some things you might want to use. Actually, bored lang ako, tas laki ng kita ko from Central Bank so yun feel ko lang magbigay. ahwwww hindi bitaw. Anyhow, what’s written here will explain why I gave you this. These thoughts have been on my head for months and sometimes I wish I can just tell you already but I want it to be special because you’re special to me. Shareeeet part 2 hahaha.

So here it goes

First, it really makes me happy whenever we talk about films.

Thus, I made this film-inspired artwork because I just want to appreciate your love for films and thank you because I discovered new things out of our discussions. Like I always tell you, just don’t be afraid of the vision and story that you have. Who knows maybe someday Jan, you’re going to write and direct beautiful films or maybe someday you’re going to be one good film appreciation professor. So just hold on and never stop trying. Hopefully, the films and series that I included in the artwork will make you happy hahaha. I’m not entirely sure if I made a good selection but hopefully these films inspired you. haha

Second, I want to thank you Jan.

There were days last year that I wish I can just go back and fix everything. There were days when I just want time to stop or sometimes I wish that every dark thought in my brain would just vanish. But it won’t, so I just accepted it and instead of being consumed by it, I told myself that I should be better.

I saw in you the thoughtfulness of a friend. You are sweet to your friends and you make people happy. If you’re in a group, you’re the one who brings light and ease. It’s like you’re a people magnet. Every person who comes with you, they are happy. There’s this aura that you have that can just bring joy to people around you. You might not be the most physically and facially handsome person in the world but you have this charm. A charm that can just make people smile and can make some people feel that you are one handsome and beautiful person. Hahaha Also, I admire how you can just tell the world the love you have for your family. I’m amazed how you and some people can just express their feelings for their family on social media. I sometimes wonder where you guys get the courage to do it. hahaha

Looking at how you bring joy to people, it helped me a lot to have the strength to pull myself up, reach out to people and release the weight that has been pulling me down for years. It was not easy. There were days that I think I can’t do it but after a few tries, it worked and somehow I improved.

Your charm really inspired me to reach out to my friends again, to bring joy instead of negativity, to give rather than to receive, to become more open and light-hearted, to try to release all the darkness that have always surrounded me, to show love and care to my family because they’re the ones who will surely stay with me even if I fucked things up, and to become better, happier and sexier ahwwww ahahaha, more positive bitaw. haha

So yeah, really, thank you Jan haha and don’t stop being you, you make people happy.

Third,

Uhmmm hahaha

I like you

Hahaha shuta pero yeah I really do.

When you first entered in SHS, I already find you cute but it never came to a point that I would have a huge crush in you because at that time I was still not open to the idea of really liking guys. I can be attracted but not really to the point that I will like them. Fast forward to IYC, it was the time that I actually had the chance to know you. We talked and talked and the more I get to know you the more I felt happy. There’s something in your smile that can make me smile as well. Hahaha yawa. Then all of a sudden, I was surprised that I felt that I really like you and that I can imagine myself being with a guy because I never did. It was always girls. I never courted men and when this feeling came, it felt strong and new.

So yeah I like you, I really do. It's like meeting someone that I've looking for this whole time. You have the charm and you really have a nice smile that can release someone’s problems and you are someone that I’m willing to take care of, to sacrifice my time when you need help the most, to put a smile to your face when you’re feeling sad, to destress you when work has been beating you hard and to make you feel that you are one beautiful person that really deserves to be happy.

But I know my limits. As much as I want to try and wish if we can be together, it’s really up to you. Whatever happens, I’ll be fine... I’ve been through this before so I guess I can handle it better this time and yeah I can accept whatever the outcome is. choks ra ko ayaw kabalaka hahaha. But know that if ever there's a chance I'll try my best to really make you happy.

The important thing is you follow what your heart desires. I know you still miss him because when I asked you the question, when we were at Eden, there’s this feeling of genuine and pure longingness in your face when you responded to my question.The way you also told your stories about him, it feels like something genuinely magical happened especially the "city lights." Ayeeeee hahaha nahappy jud ko nimo ato loool kanang knowing you found someone u really like. La lang makahappy knowing na happy ka hahaha

I find it weird sometimes because like I said I always thought you were like straight straight but when I learned that you're really not that straight, it somehow bothered me. Maybe because I got surprised because before I learned who you really are I was already to tell you what I feel. But then I knew, then me thought that it was good thing I did not confess earlier. Then later on I just accepted it. For someone not straight, I should have been happy right, like knowing your crush is not that straight but it felt weird and more heavy as well hahaha but yeah I accepted it because no matter who you are the important thing is your personality.

Also maybe you have someone new this time that I don’t know. Plus, maybe that new person makes you happy already. So yeah, whatever happens Jan, I’m just here. I will still help you no matter what. You inspired me during my hard times so even if things won’t work out the way I hope to be, you will still be special to me. Our friendship might be different after this. I sort of prepared for it but I did this because I just want to try because who knows right? I mean, if the ideal person is within your reach, then try to grab the chance. And so I did. Hahaha

Ge lang I will still help u no matter what. Will still be ur friend even if there's no chance. Will still make u happy in the simpliest and friendliest way possible. Will still pray for you even if u decide to distance urself from me. Will still make pansin to u kahit alam ko wala akung chance. Masktan man ako or what chaaar hahaha mkakaya ko to at di kita kukulamin hahaha kase special ka sa akin. Chaaaar pero bitaw Jan uy ngano gaexist man ka. Namatay nuon ko. Figuratively. Sa imuha hahahaha pero yeaahh haaay.

So. I guess this is pretty much what’s been on my head for months. Hahaha and yes you’re smile, every time I see it or think of it, it makes me happy hahaha so don’t stop smiling and Happy Birthday Neil. Always remember that you are a beautiful person, one of a kind. And thank you bai. Really. Hehehe

-Shievar

[knockoutlives]

Are You Ready To Wake Up?

It was okay to be a few minutes early but being this early was out right unfashionable. The room before him was completely empty. Oh well, he would survive this “faux pas”.  In the academic setting he rarely worried about how he appeared to others. To be clear: he was always going to look nice. Today for example, he wore a medium washed pair of Saint Laurent jeans, a pale pink button up shirt courtesy of his mother’s new fashion line, and matching gray shoes and blazer both from a Michael Kors collection.

His hair was also purposely styled to show they he gave effort but not “too much” effort. Whatever that was. He would always give a large amount of weight to his physical appearance but his social appearance tended to take a back seat when he was in the world of writing or between the walls of a school building. Here he relaxed and let his work do all the talking.

Blaise took a seat towards the back of the room and set his brown leather satchel next to him. According to his phone, he still had about twenty minutes to kill before anyone showed up. He really should have stopped for a coffee before he came. In fact, he had enough time to enjoy a good pairing of espresso and biscotti. He rarely passed up the chance to munch on a pastry coffee combo and of course today just had to be one of those occasions.

Determined not to wallow in his awkwardly earliness, he rummaged through his satchel until he emerged with an eyeglass case and a book of The Best American Essays. This class was assigned the 2016 edition as one of its required reading texts but the one Blaise held in his hands was an older edition, a little worn, from the year in which he himself was a student in his class.

 Back when he was undecided, his parents gunned for something practical like accounting or business but in his gut he knew those weren’t the right fit. It wasn’t until he thumbed through the pages of this essay book, highlighting and jotting little notes, did he realize that writing was the path he should take. It seemed fitting that on the day he turned from student to master that he would do so with this book in hand.

Blaise slid on his reading glasses and proceeded to dive into his book. The glasses were a fairly new bi-product of aging.  He was not yet thirty but his near perfect vision insisted on decaying. In the back of an abandoned lecture hall, Blaise could afford to care more about the content of his book than how dorky he looked in his new spectacles. He managed to get through a whole essay before he a vibration from his cell phone pulled him back into the real world.

 Adam Everett has uploaded a new photo to Facebook

 Blaise smirked knowingly at the notification. His cousin Adam rarely posted on social media and when he did it was usually about his budding romance with a silver haired guy named Spencer. Although he teased his cousin relentlessly about being a hopeless romantic, Blaise himself could not help rooting for two people in true love. He clicked on the notification to see the latest “Spadam” adventure.  

Once the notification was opened, several thumbnails of photos flooded the phone screen. The “new photo” of interest was actually a part of a photo set entitled “Hot Chocolate Rune Winter 5k” which contained about twelve photos. Scoff. Prior to Spencer, Adam was definitely not a photoset type of person.  Still, Blaise continued down the rabbit hole of sappiness and clicked on the first picture of the set. It was a selfie of sweaty damp haired Adam and the flawless silvered haired Spencer just after Adam finished his race. The next photo was one of Adam by himself holding his racing number and the photo after showed him just  as he was crossing the finish line. Most of the remaining photos alternated between the race itself and cute selfies of the happy couple. The second to last photo, however, featured a group picture with Adam and his friends including...Troi Bentley

Pining: An Interlude (Draft One)

ive feet away from me you stand. A goodbye on your lips you need not to utter because the remnants of the last goodbye still echo in my ears. Please stay right where you are so we can be suspended in a world in which I don’t have to watch you turn away. I don’t want to see your disappearing act again. Especially if this is the grand finale and you will never return to this stage. I do not know if I can bare to end this show. I do not know if I can bare to see you with a different leading man by your side...Five feet away from me you stand. You make it seem so far...

The words to an old piece of prose poured into Blaise’s head as he took in a picture of its muse. A refined draft of this piece appeared in his senior portfolio years ago, but the words embossed in his brain were from the original version. Blaise jotted down draft one after a particularly ominous evening with Troi Bentley. Somehow that night was not the complete end and they found themselves drifting back toward each other again and again. 

This photo of Troi and Vinny emphasized there would be no return to Troi this time. Or ever. Blaise figured their permanent ending was ultimately for the best. After all, the pining boy needed to be set free and the disappearing boy needed to go back to the one person who could make him stay and remain visible. Blaise paused on the picture for a couple of more beats until he digested this odd feeling that was not quite jealousy.

“Mr. Monroe?” A familiar female voice called for Blaise’s attention. He looked up to see Ms. Elizabeth Martin standing a few feet away from him. The perfect subject on which to purge the words that still clouded his brain.

“Five feet away from me you stand…” Blaise started, “ Please stay right where you are. Let’s stay suspended in a world in which I don’t have to watch your eyes flicker away as they allude to your impending disappearance…” He stood and walked towards her as he recited what he remembered from a slightly newer draft of his prose. When made sure to finish bridging the gap between them just as his piece also came to an end.

 Ms. Martin stared at him in contemplation until something clicked. “‘Pining: An interlude?” she asked.

 “I knew you were in love with me,” Blaise smirked. “What kind of TA can hear random lines from a student’s work and still identify the piece years later?” 

“One who has a substantial memory,” Ms. Martin retorted and turned to take her place at the podium in front of the room. Blaise went back to retrieve his items as well as to cast his reading glasses into hiding. With all his belongings properly organized, he claimed a new spot near Ms. Martin as other mentors and students began to come in.

“As I was saying, it is okay to admit you had a crush on me. You aren’t my TA anymore. I promise you won’t get in trouble.” Blaise’s teasing solicited a subtle eye roll from Ms. Martin. She was not particularly upset or annoyed as much as eye rolling felt like a perfectly natural response to Blaise’s nonsense. “C’mon Liz. You’re attractive, I’m attractive. You’re intelligent. I’m intelligent. We’ve both got the writing thing going on. It’s only natural. Let me take you out to dinner- lunch even. And if you can resist me by the end then fine we’ll still have our great working relationship.”

Ms. Martin, the multi-tasker, had been using the time during Blaise’s monologue to finalize the list of mentor/mentee pairings. She peered over at him from the list once his rambling had came to an end. “You know Mr. Monroe...I am seeing Larry.” She was sure mentioning Lawrence Fisher, a new professor within the English department with whom she went on numerous dates over the past couple of months, would force Blaise to take things down a notch. She should have known better.

“Larry, oh right. He can come too. You know I swing both ways,” he playfully winked at Ms. Martin.

“And that is my queue to get things started.” A somewhat embarrassed Ms. Martin turned her attention toward the classroom that now had full attendance. After a brief introduction and some further instructions she began to call out pairings. “Mr. Joshua Depola and Mr. Blaise Monroe…”

 Blaise smiled and scanned the room for his match. Luckily, even without a raised hand, Joshua would have stood out. There were only a few male students taking the class and no one else had such a rich orange-red set of locks. He gave a nod to acknowledge the raised hand and Ms. Martin continued to call out the pairings. But wait, had she really said Joshua Depola or was it his discovery of the unsettling picture earlier that was warping his perception. He would find out soon enough. Either way, he would also make sure to approach the kid with an open mind. It was his duty as a mentor. 

One all of the pairings were announced, Blaise collected his bag, thanked Ms. Martin for putting up with him, and headed over to where his mentee was sitting. Up close, the younger male was a little cuter than expected and had an aura of...broodiness maybe. Not to worry, Blaise encountered many broody types in his world of art and writing.

“Hi, I’m Blaise Monroe,” he introduced himself and extended his hand for a handshake. “Can I buy you a coffee? I have a good place in mind that is not too far from here.” Getting to know his mentee while sipping coffee at his favorite cafe seemed like a win-win.

[txllingmom-blog]

Fic progress under the cut; rough draft and only about 1/4 of the way into the story

"Jeremy, I can't thank you enough for agreeing to be my best man."

The blonde smiled at Coltrane, as the two walked from the botanical garden where the wedding was taking place to the church hall across the street where the maid of honor was currently organizing for the weekend's events. A large portion of Danville was coming out to celebrate Stacy and Coltrane's wedding, including Jeremy Johnson, who flew all the way in from Toronto, as his band The Incidentals were incredibly popular in Canada, yet not so main stream in their country of origin. "Coltrane, I'm seriously honored that you even asked. I'm more than happy to be here."

They had crossed the street at this point, now making their way down the gravel driveway towards the wooden doors. "So, before I let you head in there, I gotta warn you," Coltrane's voice was tense, and uneven. "The maid of honor is also the wedding planner. And she's kinda been doing everything single handedly. So she's been kind of snappy. Just know that she's stressed."

Jeremy nodded, taking in the groom-to-be's words. As Coltrane excused himself to make an appearance for Stacy's cousins who had just flown in from Tokyo, Jeremy pushed open the door, taking in a deep breath.

He was told that the maid of honor was in the church hall organizing. What he saw upon entering was the opposite of organization. Sure, it was Friday morning and the wedding itself wasn't until Saturday evening, but it looked like more than a day's - or even a week's - work was needed. At first, he wasn't even entirely sure that this elusive woman was even in the building. But in the distance he heard the sound of a high pitched voice, so he rounded the corner, following it.

"I know your busy but you told me you could-" as he found the source, his breath hitched "-and what about...? Right right, Camp David, I know, but..." he was having a hard time processing it all. Why didn't Coltrane tell him? "Okay. Okay. I just...I get it. Sorry Phineas. I'll call you soon. Bye."

He shouldn't have been so shocked. After all, who else would Stacy have chosen as her maid of honor? "C-Candace?"

The redhead didn't even look up from her phone as she opened a document and started avidly taking notes. Her voice was authoritative and unusually cold and even "Oh good, Jeremy, you're here. Do me a favor and start laminating the place cards."

"You...were expecting me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. He certainly wasn't expecting to see her today.

This time Candace did look up as she answered "Of course. I single handedly organized this whole wedding. I made your place card. And assigned your seat for the reception."

Oh. Right. He'd forgotten about that. As Candace continued to mill about around him, he voiced "Right. So um, how've you been?"

"Busy. I've been single handedly planning a wedding." she deadpanned.

Jeremy couldn't help but let out a light chuckle "I, uh, kind of meant in your life in general." he paused, with a sigh. And he looked at her. Really looked at her, for the first time since he'd walked into the room. Somehow, she was more beautiful then he'd remembered. "I've missed you, you know."

Walking away from him, back turned and hands in the air "And I miss having time to myself before I offered to commandeer this whole weekend but I guess we all have regrets. If you do regret it, that is."

Candace couldn't bring herself to look at him, especially after hearing nothing but a deep sigh and the sound of his fingers running through his hair. "Candace..."

"No." she interrupted. "I have too much on my plate. I can't do this right now. Forget I even brought it up."

"I'm not going to-"

Candace cut him off, sticking a finger in his face as she repeated "Forget. I. Brought. It. Up. And I asked you to laminate the rest of the place cards for me."

Jeremy didn't argue this time. He'd already upset her enough the last time he'd seen her, he didn't need to put her through that a second time. "Can you show me how to work the laminator?"

And for the first time since he'd walked in, the Candace Flynn he'd fallen in love with eleven years ago cracked through the concrete exterior she'd built up as she smirked "Do they not teach you big famous rockstars how to use basic office equipment?"

With a genuine chuckle and a shake of his head, he honestly answered "No, no they don't."

Candace let out a small laugh, and in that moment, it was the brightest, warmest sound Jeremy had ever heard. "So you see this plastic bit?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow as she held it up."You put the place cards inside of it. Make sure it's tight, with no air bubbles, and then put it through the machine, sealed end first. Got it?"

Jeremy nodded, but gave a sheepish answer of "I think so, but could you just do one first so I know for sure that I'm doing it right? I don't want to screw it up and end up giving you even more work to do..."

The redhead never gave him a verbal answer. Instead, she walked over, and began the process for the place card reading Ginger Hirano. As she fed the card into the machine, she questioned "Think you can handle that?"

"I think I can." he smiled at her, warmly. "And if you need me to do anything else before I get these done just let me know. I'm at your disposal this weekend."

Candace felt her heart give a squeeze, and she reasoned that his smile was always going to have that power over her. "Thank you." her voice was warm, and genuine, and to Jeremy's confusion, sounded slightly bewildered. "I really do appreciate you helping me."

He bit his tongue, as the automatic response of 'You know I'd do anything for you' was threatening to force it's way out. He wasn't about to force her into that conversation today. She had a lot going on, he didn't dare be the straw to break the camel's back. "I'm happy to." he answered instead. "If there's anything you need please don't hold off on asking."

Candace was still looking at him, her mouth only slightly agape, as if she was going to say something. There was a brief moment of hesitation, but in that moment, to Candace Flynn, that moment felt like an eternity. She decided to listen to her voice of reason, closing her mouth, and offering nothing more than a polite nod as she silently turned away from him to tend to the next item on her checklist.

The rest of the afternoon passed surprisingly quickly. Jeremy barely heard from Candace, save for when she was delegating more tasks onto him. Before he knew it, it was 5PM, and Candace had walked back over to where he was working. Tenderly, she place a hand on his shoulder, to signify her presence, before telling him. "I've got a lot more work to do tonight, was about to order a pizza and get back to it, but you can head out now if you'd like."

Jeremy paused, turning his head slightly to look up at her. She was tired, the exhaustion was etched all over her face. With a soft smile he offered "I like pizza. And I don't mind staying."

"You don't have to-" Candace began to protest

She was stopped short as Jeremy raised a hand to cover the one that was still resting on his shoulder "I want to."

Candace spent a moment silent, unmoving, save for an odd blink, before giving the blonde a tired smile "Thanks."

And with that, she turned, heading back to work on the next thing on her list until the pizza got there 45 minutes later. As the tables were still overrunning with half completed wedding decorations, the two sat on the floor, eating their cheesy confectionery off of paper plates. "I thought you were lactose intolerant." Jeremy commented as he took the second bite of his slice.

"I am." Candace replied with a mouthful of pizza. "But I can handle a little bit of a stomach ache for a little bit of cheese. And I was really craving pizza after these last few weeks."

Jeremy let out a light hum, before asking "You know what this reminds me of?"

"The other Danville pizza places?" Candace asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not the pizza." Jeremy paused, a dream like smile casting over his features as he recounted "The first night in the apartment we rented. We didn't have a kitchen table yet, and hadn't been grocery shopping..."

"...so we sat on the couch and ate pizza." Candace finished for him.

"Yeah," Jeremy smiled happily. "I miss our old place. Toronto's nice and all, but..." he trailed off, eyeing his pizza instead of Candace. His apartment in Canada was just that - his apartment. But living with Candace? That was home.

"I still live there, actually." Candace informed him. It came as a shock to him. He supposed it made sense, after all, Candace was still actively living in Danville when he left. Nothing in her life changed, other than his absence. He had just always assumed that when he left, the whole life they had built together disappeared. He was realizing now that he shouldn't have been so naive. "You could swing by sometime if you wanted." she added "If you have time before you head back. Visit the old stomping grounds."

"Yeah?" Jeremy's voice was genuinely enthusiastic "I'd like that. I'll let you know ahead of time, of course. In case your new boyfriend catches you bringing an ex home, or something." he joked, laughing softly to himself before taking a bite of his pizza crust.

Candace snorted in laughter before informing him "You won't have to worry about that. Just the millions of teenage girls who'll start attacking my social media if we're seen together."

"Only the Canadian press cares about me," he chuckled "So I think we'll be fine."

The smile Candace casted at him was warm as she replied "Good, I'm glad."

Saturday morning rolled around and Jeremy Johnson was as bright and chipper as one could be. At 8AM he and Candace had nine more hours to put together the wedding for their best friends. He'd gotten himself a coffee, and while he had texted Candace asking her if she wanted one, he didn't receive an answer. Even though he still knew her order by heart, he didn't dare become presumptuous and get her something without asking. Her old regular order may have changed, after all. So with one half consumed coffee in his hand, he walked into the church hall with a happy song in his head.

He was almost knocked straight out of that mindset when he saw the inside of the hall. The amount of work that had been done since he'd last walked in...granted, he and Candace had spent the better part of fourteen hours getting things done yesterday, and heaven only knew what time Candace had come back that morning.

"Oh thank god," Candace had gasped as soon as she heard the door open. "We've got to kick it into high gear."

Jeremy had let out a slight chuckle "I mean, yeah there's still stuff to do and there's a bit of a time crunch but we did so much in 14 hours yesterday, I'm sure we can get everything else done in nine hours."

"Nine hours?!" Candace's eyes might have popped out of her head. "The wedding is in nine hours. On top of all this I've still got to set up the caterer and the band and the florist and not to mention do my hair and makeup and get dressed..."

With each word, Candace's voice got higher and her breathing got more and more ragged. Her limbs were shaking, and her face was turning red. Jeremy immediately dropped his coffee - he'd seen this before. With both hands now free, he took both of her hands into his, speaking quickly to gain her full intention "Candace, Candace...Candace look at me, okay? Are you looking at me? Just take a breath. Just take a deep, deep breath..." she did, and a small smile found it's way onto Jeremy's face. "It's alright, it's alright..." his voice was slower now, more soothing "Are you alright?" Candace nodded, but didn't say anything. "Are you okay?" Jeremy pressed. "Can you tell me you're okay?"

Candace nodded again, this time letting out a weak "Yeah, I'm okay." she paused, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Thank you."

"Hey," Jeremy smiled warmly, now stroking one of his thumbs against the back of her hand "I'm here to help you, with everything. Not just the wedding stuff."

She nodded again, taking in his words and feeling very overwhelmed. As he let go of her hands, her mouth began speaking without her mind's consent "J-Jeremy?"

His eyes widened as he asked "Yeah?"

And much like the morning before - it was like she was going to say something. Something of importance. Whatever was threatening to spill out had more than a little weight to it. But just like the morning before, Candace stopped herself. "Nothing, never mind." she mumbled. "It's not important." Jeremy had opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off by Candace instructing "They only thing we should be talking or thinking about right now is the wedding."

Jeremy nodded "What task do you have to delegate to me, then?" he asked warmly.

"You could start by picking your coffee off the floor." she offered with a halfhearted laugh. But there was a sort of twinkle in her eye that hadn't been there before, and Jeremy felt like maybe, just maybe, things were going to work out for the better.

And then before either of them realized it, it was seven and a half hours later, and everything was done. As the two stood standing outside the building, gazing out across the street to where everything for the wedding was already set up, Candace voiced "I can't believe we did it."

Jeremy turned from his view of the garden to look at the woman standing next to him "Are you kidding? You're Candace Flynn. You can do anything. I bet you didn't even need my help."

Candace's cheeks went red before she turned to look at Jeremy. "I know you're trying to boost my self confidence and everything, but I literally could not have done this today without you. So, thank you."

The blonde's eyes traveled back to the botanical garden for a moment, and then reached the redhead once more. "Can I be entirely honest with you about something?"

"I swear to god if you say you didn't glue something properly or that the laminates were coming out cold or..."

"No no, nothing like that!" he let out a light chuckle, before clearing his throat and continuing, more seriously. "I really don't know why you ever doubted yourself."

Candace's eyes moved from his to stare out at the garden, none of the guests had arrived yet, but the florist and her team were milling about with some final touch ups. "I've been planning this wedding for six months, on top of my job, on top of law school, on top of..." she paused, and then sighed "...other things. You only saw the tail end of it. It was...a lot."

Jeremy nodded, though he didn't quite understand, but he most certainly didn't want to pry, either. "I can appreciate that. It's just..." he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Somehow - being back in Danville - talking to Candace - made him all feel like the sixteen year old boy who was trying to catch her attention while stuck in his goofy Mr. Slushy Burger uniform. "...you're the most remarkable person I know. If anyone else told me they were going to single handedly put together a wedding in six months, I'd never believe them. But you?"

Candace was finally looking at him. "Jere-"

"No no let me finish." he argued, taking her hands in his, though he wasn't quite sure why. "You're the most ambitious, driven person I know. You could do absolutely anything you ever put your mind to. You're...astounding. And I really don't know why you ever doubted yourself. I mean...look at what you did here!"

"Well I wasn't alone, you know." she replied sheepishly, eyes intently focused on the fact that his hands were holding hers. "You did help a lot..."

"A trained monkey could do what I did." he chuckled. "You just needed an extra set of hands. But this, it was all you Candace. You should be so proud of yourself."

Candace's eyes finally darted up to meet his "Why are you saying all this?"

"Because it's true!" he exclaimed enthusiastically. "And you deserve to know that truth. Candace Flynn, you are the single most amazing person..." his voice trailed, becoming softer "...the most, exquisite human being..." he didn't even entirely register how close to her face he was getting "...that I've ever met."

Her lips were just as soft as he remembered, but he did forget just how weak in the knees she could make him. It was short and chaste enough that it didn't give her a chance to reciprocate - and as he pulled away he realized that if she hadn't reciprocated he may have shattered. This wasn't the reignition of an old spark - it was adding more kindle to eternal burning flame. "C-Candace..." he stuttered out after "I...I didn't mean to...I mean, I know I just got back and..."

Candace's kiss had been the opposite of his. While he'd been soft, and gentle, and unsure, Candace was kissing him with an utmost certainty. An utmost urgency. Her kiss was deliberate, and firm, and when she broke it, he just couldn't help himself. His lips may have detached from hers, but they were now moving down her long neck with the weight of a feather. Her fingers gripping the overgrown toughs of his hair was the most nostalgic, reassuring feeling in the world. "Jer-Jeremy..." she gasped "There's something I have to tell you..."

He'd detached himself long enough to look her in the eyes, but not quickly enough to say anything before being cut off by the voice of Vanessa Doofenshmirtz. "Candace!" she called, as she began crossing the street - a child no older than six in a puffy blue dress hoisted up to lean on her shoulder. As Vanessa met the pair on the other side, she set the child down "Someone saw you and wanted to come say hello..." And suddenly, Vanessa almost froze. "Oh, uh..."

Candace seemed to understand the brunette's sudden hesitation, which only served to confuse Jeremy more. "Listen, it's fine..."

"I'm really sorry..." Vanessa offered again.

Candace had stooped down, explaining to Vanessa "I just haven't had a chance yet...but now's a good of time as any." Jeremy quirked an eyebrow in Vanessa's direction as if to ask what was going on, but became distracted as Candace outstretched her arms and the child willfully ran into them. "Hey sweetie," Candace cooed "I'm so sorry I've been so busy. Have you been having fun with Vanessa?"

The child nodded, and then pointed at Jeremy "Who's that?"

Candace stood up, the girl still in her arms. Vanessa shot her a concerned look which Jeremy still didn't understand. "This is Jeremy. Can we say hi to Jeremy, Amanda?"

The little girl let out a small "Hi." with a sheepish wave.

Jeremy waved back, crouching down a little to meet her eyes "Amanda, is it? Well it's very nice to meet you."

"Jeremy is an old friend of mommy's." Candace explained. "He's been helping me with Aunt Stacy's wedding."

"Aunt Stacy?" Jeremy questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Not really sisters!" Amanda chirped. "Not like Uncle Phineas and Uncle Ferbed...right mommy?"

Candace chuckled lightly, rubbing her nose against Amanda's, "That's right sweetie." she then turned her head back towards Jeremy "Five years old and still can't say Ferb, but we're working on it." Her expression became more sheepish, and her voice was quieter as she explained "This...is what I wanted to tell you. On top of school and work, I have Amanda. I'm a mom now."

"Wow." Jeremy was at a loss. Candace was a mom? He could barely commit to a roommate and here she was, raising her child. "C-congratulations. I'm really happy for you."

Candace let out a small "Thanks." and nothing more.

It was quiet, almost uneasily, before Vanessa cleared her throat. "Amanda, do you wanna come with me and we'll take some pictures? Mommy still needs to get a few things ready."

As Candace passed Amanda onto Vanessa, and the brunette and the five year old were crossing the street once more, Jeremy looked back to Candace "That...might have been good information to have before I kissed you."

"I wanted to tell you." Candace tried.

Jeremy nodded "I know, I know. And it's not your fault. I shouldn't have assumed..." he paused, as his intended ending to the sentence was 'that you'd wait for me.', and he was already in a much more complicated situation than he would've liked "...anything." he finished lamely.