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wiypt-writes · 3 years ago

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Leave No One Behind

Chapter 16: Endings Beginnings

Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Summary: Ari and Hannah settle into life back home, but it isn’t all as smooth as they’d have hoped…

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairings: Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

Word Count- 4.5k

A/N: It was recently brought to our attention that in a few other chapters there have been a couple of things that Ari has said/done that are not technically accurate for someone of Jewish heritage. First up, it was reference to Ari observing a ‘Sunday Roast’ when he visited Mama Navon. We just wanted to remind people that Hannah is of Catholic Christian and Jewish heritage (Spanish Catholic Mother, American Jewish Father) and her and Sammy’s upbringing has always been a combination of the two. So, when Ari visited Mama Navon when he was home from Sudan, clearly this was her tradition he was observing. Secondly, in another chapter Ari was praying to the ‘God and the Saints’. Of course, Judaism does not have saints, so there’s a slip up on our part with that one. As with the third point, when we described Ari rushing Sarah to the alter. He would have rushed her to the hoopa.

Regarding all of the above, we would hasten to add, that Ari grew up in the USA, leaving when he was 18. From what little we learn of him in the film, we know was taken by a British Soldier, who married an American Nurse. From the way he talks about it, we don’t get the impression his ‘adoptive’ parents were Jewish, so that alludes us to suspect he had a largely Christian upbringing, whilst clearly being aware of his heritage. Therefore, we don’t think it is beyond the realms of possibility that he would pick up the odd little thing such as the above three points.

That aside, we hope the above didn’t distract anyone else from the narrative as it did the reader who brought it to our attention.

Now, just a personal plea from myself in general. Myself and Storm do this for free, and not being a person who pays much attention to religion at all (that’s another debate in itself) it is for this reason I was VERY nervous about continuing this storyline beyond the plot of the film. We certainly don’t have the time, nor brain capacity to be researching things into any kind of huge depth. It’s why most of my story lines centre along similar types of things that I have a good background in. This fic was never supposed to focus on the ins and outs of a particular race of people, just the lives of two dumbasses in love. As all writers on here, we do this for free, and the moment it becomes hard work or unenjoyable, we won’t be continuing. So any other little slip ups, please, unless they’re offensive, give us a little leeway and put it down to Ari being exceptionally Westernised as pointed out above.

Sorry if this comes across as being a little harsh, but this has been playing on my mind a lot over the past few days, to the point I was seriously considering if we ended the fic where it currently stood. That said, I think we have a lot left to tell of Hannah and Ari’s story so, I’ll shut up now and let you read it…if you want that is.

Leave No One Behind Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 15

“You haven’t forgotten tomorrow?” Hannah heard her mother ask, as the woman stood up from the table while holding the teacup and saucer to place them in the sink. “You do remember you have to pick Sammy up from the airport tomorrow afternoon, right?”

Hannah rolled her eyes at her mother’s back. “No, I haven’t forgotten,” she sighed as she played with the crumbles of the pastry she had been nibbling on, “I mean, it’s not like I’ve got anything else going on, is it? Seeing as Ari is with Maya and according to Sarah’s stupid rules I can’t be there with them…”

At that, Maria Navon turned, giving her daughter a sympathetic look and Hannah snorted in anger.

It had been four months since they arrived back in Tel Aviv, and Hannah had to concede that for the first few weeks it was fine. She and Ari settled nicely in the apartment Mossad rented in Ari’s name once all the paperwork following the end of the mission had been sorted. Ari had asked Isaacs for an upgrade of his living quarters, given he was now having Maya over to stay every other weekend, plus numerous nights of the week. Not to mention the fact Hannah was moving with him. When Isaacs had asked Ari to put a justification forward, he had simply shrugged, “I fucking earned it, Isaacs.”

So he got it. Just like he usually got what he wanted, one way or another.

Hannah was back working at the clinic. Her hands and the experience she had acquired while in Africa were needed more than ever now that it was only her mother and her to run it, although how long it was before her mom decided to retire fully was anyone’s guess. It had been a couple of busy months, what with interviewing for new nurses and locum staff, but Hannah would be lying if she denied having enjoyed every minute of it. She might have Mossad secret agent skills, obviously passed down by her father, but she was a doctor at heart. And that hadn’t changed in the two years she had been away.

The team had split up within a month of arrival back in Tel Aviv. Ari and Max had been working to help the refugees. Many of them had simply melted away post their arrival, still not trusting the mysterious white men who had come to their aid. However, some had stuck round; being housed temporarily in hostels, and was those who Ari and Max were tirelessly working for. They focussed their efforts on obtaining them permanent, legal status along with finding them better places to live and jobs of sorts to help them fit in their new reality.

Jake had headed back overseas to continue work as a diving instructor, this time in Jamaica, whilst Sammy had been in the States with Rachel for almost two and a half months now, and was, as Maria just reminded Hannah, due back the following day. Hannah suspected, however, not for long, fully expecting him to move there permanently to be with Rachel.

“Sammy is lucky, you know? He has none of this shit with Rachel’s ex.” Hannah grumbled, “Sarah is just being a pain in the ass. And I know for a fact it’s because we told her we got engaged. She was fine with me being there when Maya was until that point.” Hannah finished her rant as she placed her teacup and saucer on her mother’s extended hand.

“You can’t be sure about that, sweetheart. Maybe there’s something else."

“No, she’s being a bitch.” Hannah quickly stopped her mother’s attempts at justifying Sarah’s behaviour. “She seems perfectly fine with us having dinner during the week and going out and stuff but won’t let Maya stay when I’m there on a weekend, basically just preventing us from spending those days together, for no reason other than she’s bitter.”

Maria Navon sighed. She knew where her daughter was coming from but, being the gentle and caring woman she was, she couldn’t help but try to put herself in the other woman’s shoes. She saw Hannah bite her lip and twirl her engagement ring round her finger, a rounded blue sapphire as deep as the ocean set against a halo of smaller white diamonds on a white gold band, before she spoke again.

“I wouldn’t mind mama but they’ve been legally separated for years! The terms of their divorce are basically already been agreed. All they need to do is sign the damned papers but recently, well, Ari seems afraid to even raise the issue in case Sarah starts making it all awkward again and stops him seeing Munch.”

“Hey, sweetheart. Listen to me.” Hannah’s mother caught her attention as she pulled out a chair to sit next to her. “Everything is going to be ok, she’ll sign eventually. She knows there isn’t anything she can do about it, she’s just grieving.”

Hannah’s brow creased at her mother’s choice of words. “Grieving for what? She left him, years ago!”

“She left him because she couldn’t cope with his lifestyle anymore, and he wasn’t winning any awards for being husband of the year, Han. That doesn’t mean she didn’t love him,” Maria woman spoke softly as if to appease her daughter’s raging tone.

“So, basically, I’m just stuck here waiting until she gets her head out of her ass?”

“Have a little patience, honey. You two have waited over a decade, one way or another, to be together. You sure can wait a few weeks more.” Maria smiled as she reached out for Hannah’s hands who were fiddling with a teaspoon.

“That’s the thing, Mama.” Hannah sighed as she looked up to meet her mom’s eyes. “I don’t think it’s just going to be weeks.”

“You don’t?” The woman frowned. “Well maybe she’s more stubborn than I thought.”

Hannah shook her head and then noticed her mother’s features had suddenly softened into a smile and she was looking straight over her shoulder. Hannah turned to see Ethan walking into the kitchen in his signature crisp work suit.

“Hi Ethan,” Hannah smiled at him and then looked up at the clock over the fridge before standing up and shrugging. “I should go. Spend the night with my fiancée before I’m banished back to my childhood home for the weekend like a love sick teenager.”

As she left the kitchen dramatically, she heard Ethan ask Maria. “That bad?”

“She’s pissed off,” Hannah heard her mom whisper back, “can’t say I blame her but she needs to make an attempt to see this from the other side, so to speak.”

With an angry growl, Hannah slammed the door and set off walking back to their apartment, in even more of bad mood than she’d been in when she arrived at her mother’s.

Why was anyone treating her like she was the spoiled brat?

****

Ari was getting ready for Hannah’s arrival. He had been cooking, or sort of, making an attempt at dinner for a while and was now setting the table for two. He wanted to make tonight special as he knew this week was going to be the third weekend out of six that he and Hannah would be apart thanks to Sarah and her fucking rules.

He was finding it hard himself. He’d gotten used to sleeping besides his Firefly since they had got together in Sudan, especially at night. But he knew Hannah was finding it harder. He was sacrificing their time together so that he could spend his allotted weekends with his daughter, which lessened the blow a little, but Hannah was basically being banned from living her life as it was for two days every two weeks, and that make his heart ache.

And the worst bit about it all, was that he had seen it coming a mile off, and had been powerless to prevent it.

It was a bright Friday morning when they told Maya about their engagement. The previous evening Ari had proposed to Hannah for a second time after buying her a lavish ring. Thus, they had decided to take Maya for a walk and ice cream to break the news to her. The little girl had been over the moon with the idea of her dad and Hannah getting married, which hadn’t surprised Ari seeing as his daughter had been all over his fiancé ever since they had met at Mossad headquarters the morning they had arrived home.

Now, as he approached Sarah’s apartment to take Maya back, he was about to tell his ex-wife and he was not particularly looking forward to it. But, he was being cautiously optimistic. Sarah had, after all, been amendable since they’d gotten home and seemed okay with Hannah being a part of Maya’s life.

Still, he felt his stomach churn as Maya walked up the apartment they had all shared once upon a time, and rang the doorbell. No sooner had Sarah opened the door, Maya bounced in blurting the news out without hesitation.

“Mom, guess what? Dad and Han are getting married! He asked her yesterday and she said yes!”

Ari groaned internally to himself, “Sarah, I didn’t ask her last night,” he smiled bashfully as he explained himself, “and I certainly didn’t do it in front of Maya.”

Sarah shook her head and brushed it off. “Don’t worry, Ari and … erm, congratulations, I guess.”

“Erm… thanks.” Ari blinked. “I just thought you should hear it from me first… even if you technically did hear it from Munch.”

Despite the civil exchange, Ari could tell that Sarah was hating she didn’t have time nor the privacy to digest the news, and that wasn’t what he’d planned at all. He’d wanted to tell her, quickly, and leave, but Maya had put paid to his plans. Ari could feel coldness of his estranged wife’s stare, along with the tell-tale faint twitch of her nose and upper lip. He knew Sarah well and he, also knew how she deep down felt about him and Hannah.

“She seemed cool about it but I know her, Han. Too cool for Sarah.” Ari told Hannah that night over dinner. “I can’t help feeling this is going to be bad…”

For once, Ari wished to God he’d been proven wrong. But, Sarah ended up doing what he feared, reverting back to being petty and petulant. She called him the next day to announce from that moment on, when Maya stayed with him, be it during the week or on her agreed weekends, Hannah wasn’t to be there overnight because, as Sarah had put it, it wasn’t appropriate for Maya to be around when they were… well, “up to stuff.

Hannah went ballistic, telling Ari his estranged wife was being ridiculous and she could go to hell, but Ari knew Sarah well enough to know she needed to get this out of her system. He tried his best to explain to Hannah that until she did, there was nothing he could do but roll with it, certainly for the time being. Making Sarah angry would not only risk her going back on terms of the divorce they’d set out in their separation degree, but also, he feared, make her get pissy about him seeing Maya. And that simply wasn’t something he was prepared to risk. He’d already missed too much of Maya over the years, admittedly through his own fault, but he didn’t want to miss a single second more than he had to.

Just as Ari was turning down the heat under their dinner, Simon’s ears pricked up and a second later Hannah’s key was heard in the door. Air smiled at the dog, who let out an excited whine, and leaned to give him a scratch behind his ears.

“Mama’s home, buddy.”

The pooch looked up at his master almost like he was pondering his words and Ari scoffed.

Yeah, home. Bar the weekends when she’s banished to her mother's…

Simon trotted off and soon after Ari heard Hannah greeting him. A moment later she walked into the living area and gave him a tired, but genuine smile.

“Hey Lobo.”

Ari beamed at his fiancé as he walked to meet her and without warning, he grabbed her face with both hands and stamped his lips on her plump ones, kissing the hell out of her. Hannah moaned in surprise but melted into his hold, her hands instantly reaching for Ari’s bearded cheeks.

“Hey Firefly.” He whispered when he broke the kiss.

She smiled at him as her hands travelled upwards and tangled in his hair. “Something smells good.”

“Thanks, I just showered.” Ari drawled, a cheeky smile on his face.

“I meant the food, you ass.” Hannah laughed as one of her hands slapped Ari shoulder, but his grin never faded.

“I’m a whole meal, honey.” He continued, playfully. Hannah rolled her eyes and stepped back. “But yeah, I’ve been cooking or rather mixing things in pots and pans.”

“Hmmm should I be worried?” She shrugged off the light jacket she was wearing to shield her from the summer showers.

“Well, Simon tasted everything and he’s still breathing.”

“Simon used to eat jellyfish, Ari. That’s not a bar to measure your cooking with.”

“Hey, I tried, okay? Give me some credit. I’ve never cooked for a woman before.” He grabbed her hips and pressed her to his body, one of his big hands splaying over her back.

At that Hannah smiled at him lovingly. He was right. She suspected he had never cooked for Sarah and he certainly hadn’t cooked for her, not once. Never in the brief amount of time they had been secretly dating, and at the resort it had been Chef Aziz's job to cook for everyone.

“I’m honoured, and I’m sure it’ll be great. Give me five to go wash up okay?”

“Sure, babe. I’ll plate the food and open the wine.” He winked at her and Hannah stood on her toes and gave him another quick peck before she headed into the bedroom, Simon following her.

True to his word Ari had done a pretty good job and thirty minutes later they were both sat at the table after having enjoyed a dammed passable and tasty attempt at a beef stroganoff on Ari’s part that left Hannah pleasantly surprised.

She sighed with satisfaction as she left her fork on her plate and when she looked up she noticed Ari was looking at her intently, his eyes shining under those long eyelashes.

“You trying to seduce me before my carriage turns into a pumpkin tomorrow, Levinson?” Hannah asked before bringing her glass of wine to her lips.

“Hannah...” he sighed.

“What?”

“Please don’t, sweetheart. I don’t want to argue.”

It was her turn to sigh, heavily. Ari’s words were more of a plea than a warning to her, but she couldn’t help the way she was feeling. Granted, she wasn’t quite as pissed as when she had left her mother’s house, but she still had a sour feeling which was nagging at her.

“I don’t want to either, Ari. I just don’t like the prospect of spending my weekend away from you. Again.”

“And you think I do?” He asked, reaching for her hand over the table. “Honey, this won’t be forever. Sarah just needs to get her stupid tantrum out of her system.”

“Yeah, I know and I don’t want you having trouble with Maya because of me, I wouldn’t keep you from Munch, ever. But you’re my fiancé and I just...” she trailed off, shrugging, “I don’t want us to be apart.”

Ari licked his lips and pondered for a moment as he looked at their entwined hands. “Okay, I’ll talk to her when I pick Maya up tomorrow.” He nodded with determination when he looked up at her. “See if I can reason with her and...”

“Don’t Ari. You’ll only set her off.” Hannah rapidly cut him off.

Ari groaned and let go of her hand, his look and voice growing harder. “Well then, what do you want me to do? You literally just said-“

“I know, but I don’t want you to poke the bear! I just want this fucking ridiculous situation to be over.” Hannah shook her head. She knew she was riling Air up, but she was sick of everyone trying to get her to accept the situation they were in without so much as a word of complaint. “I’m not blaming you, it’s just…forget it, can we just pretend we are a normal couple who are having a normal evening dinner?”

“We are a normal couple. Well, as normal as most anyway.” Ari took her hand again, his features softening. “Look, I’m sorry. I really am. I just don’t know what I can do.”

“Love me.” Hannah stated after a while.

Now that puzzled Ari. Was that a request or was she doubting him. She couldn’t be doubting him, right? With concern written all over his face he pushed his chair back to stand up and hurriedly crouched beside Hannah, his hands grabbing her thighs firmly as his eyes searched for something in hers.

“Firefly, I do love you. You know this… I mean, at least, I hope you do.”

“I do.” She nodded as she looked down to him. “Just don’t stop loving me, no matter what crazy ideas Sarah comes up with.”

“Hannah, that’s not gonna happen.” He assured her after swallowing hard. “I promise you. Nothing she says or does is gonna change the way I feel about you.”

****

Ari meant what he said and took it upon himself to make sure his Firefly was left with no doubt as to his feelings for her all through the night. And then again he made sure she hadn’t forgotten the following morning too before she left to pick Sammy up from the airport.

Ari collected Maya, as arranged, from the summer holiday camp run by her school and then, throwing caution to the wind, took her to Maria’s to see not only Hannah, but Sammy and the family. Hannah was surprised, but pleased to see them both and hugged Maya tight as the girl threw herself at her, chatting away about her day. They ate a lovely dinner, courtesy of Maria, and later, retired to the shared garden in the warm, July air.

As Maya sat with Sammy, who was telling her stories about the states and Rachel’s kids, Ari found himself watching Hannah. She was sat with her mom and Ethan, the three of them sipping wine as the dusk drew in. It wasn’t long before the first little twinkles around the tree flashed through the darkness, signalling the fireflies had come out to play.

Ari’s mind quickly travelled back to when he first met Hannah, how those little bugs had been present in the garden, earning her the nickname. His nickname for her, which had stuck and become a term of his love for her, symbolised by the pendant round her neck. It was that pendant, or more specifically how he had given her that pendant, which had fixed the idea on how to present her with the sparkling sapphire and diamond ring on her finger…

It was a Thursday morning, and Hannah walked into the bedroom after her morning shower. Ari looked up from where he was fastening up his short sleeved shirt and smiled as she grinned back at him.

“You really do suit that colour, pretty sure Ethan’s secretary will approve.”

“Ethan’s secretary?” Ari continued, stopping two buttons under the collar.

“Yeah, that’s what I said Lobo.”

“Ethan’s secretary is nearly a hundred years old, Firefly.” Ari rolled his eyes with a chuckle, his hands on his hips as Hannah frowned.

“Well who was the young, blonde girl at her desk the other day when I called in?” She picked up her hairbrush from the top of the chest of drawers that served as her vanity unit.

“Lorraine? She’s an intern, Mrs Goldman is training her.”

“She likes you. I can tell.” Hannah hummed, combing out her locks which had been piled on top of her head to prevent them getting wet.

Ari rolled his eyes as Hannah pulled her hair back into a neat ponytail. “Whatever.”

“You can whatever me all you want,” Hannah sang as she picked up a bottle of lotion and sat on the bed, “I can sense these things.”

Ari snorted, looking down at his girl as she sat on the bed applying lotion to her legs. “You getting all territorial on me?”

“Do I need to?”

“Don’t be an ass!” Ari snorted, leaning down to kiss her.

As they moved around the room, Ari took his time, a lot longer than usual, dragging his morning routine out as long as possible. If Hannah noticed he was making a meal out of tidying his beard up, something he had taken to doing since returning to civilisation, she didn’t notice.

He was stalling for one reason, and one reason only. The surprise that was waiting for her in her underwear drawer.

After what seemed like an age, she crossed the room and pulled it open. Ari held his breath as she reached in for a pair of panties, but instead she gasped, he hand flying to her mouth.

Bingo.

When Hannah spun around, the red, velvet box in her hand, Ari was waiting on one knee, beaming up at her. “Still wanna marry me, Firefly?”

Tears brimmed in her eyes and she nodded, her voice thick with emotion, “yes, you know I do!”

“Had to ask with a ring, sweetheart.”

He watched as she opened it, her mouth dropping open once more as she stared at the ring.

“Lobo, it’s gorgeous… I… I love it!”

As Ari rose to his feet, he sighed with relief, “good, ‘cause I had a hard time finding something worthy of my girl.”

“It reminds me of the ocean,” she smiled up at him, “and your eyes.”

“Kinda why I bought it, the ocean that is.” Ari smiled as he took the ring from the box, slipping it over her knuckle, watching as the sapphire settled at the base of her finger. “Hannah Maria Navon, I love you, baby girl.”

Hannah glanced at the ring before she beamed, her hands cupping his cheeks, “and I love you, Ari David Levinson.”

Ari smirked a little at the memory, they were totally late for work after getting a little ‘distracted’ so to speak celebrating their engagement once more, only this time in a bed and not the back of a shitty jeep in the Sudanese desert.

“Dad?” Maya bounced into his lap, drawing a huff from him as she accidentally elbowed him in the ribs, “Are those fireflies?”

“They are Munch.” He nodded, kissing her head as she watched them zipping around. “Can you see now why I call Hannah my Firefly?”

She grinned, “yip!”

Hannah, who had been watching them, cleared her throat. “Ari, it’s getting late. Shouldn’t you two be heading back to your apartment?”

Ari looked at her pointedly. “Our apartment, sweetheart.”

Hannah was about to shoot a response back but then remembered Maya was there so she merely sighed. “Ari, look, you shouldn’t even be here now anyway. It’s not worth the argument if she finds out.”

“Why can’t we stay here, dad? I wanna stay with Han!” Maya piped up and Hannah groaned a little, shooting Ari a look.

“Because Han needs to stay with Sammy tonight, she’s not seen him for a while. You can stay some other time, okay?”

“I’m not gonna say anything to Mom if that’s what you scared of.”

At that, Ari and Hannah exchanged a look. “Why do you say that? Why would we be scared?” He asked and Maya shrugged.

“I heard Mom say some things.”

“What things, Munchkin?” Ari smoothed her long hair back and waited for her to reply.

“Well, I was upset, because at first I thought Hannah didn’t like me anymore as she always left when I stayed over. But one day last week, I heard Mom tell Grandma on the phone she had made you and Hannah spend the weekends apart because I was with you.” Maya paused and looked at Hannah, “Is that why you don’t stay with us at the apartment?”

Hannah blinked, she was stuck. She didn’t want to lie but also didn’t want to start bad mouthing Sarah in front of Maya, no matter how tempting. “Erm, it’s, well it’s complicated, sweetie. You and your dad need to spend time together. But I promise you it’s absolutely not because I don’t like you. I do, I love you very much.”

At that Maya stood up and launched herself at Hannah. “I love you too, Han.”

Ari and Hannah could do nothing but exchange a look, which Hannah broke as she leaned down to hug Maya, tears visible in her eyes.

And it left Ari feeling even more like shit than he already did.

No, he had to fix this, even if it meant pulling Sarah up on her attitude despite Hannah asking him not to. Whilst he understood Sarah’s anger, and that she had every right to direct it at him, the fact that it was clearly having an impact on Maya was something he couldn’t let slide.

With a sigh, he stood up, instructing Maya to bid everyone good night. Before he left, he pulled Hannah into a kiss, his hands cupping her face.

“I’m gonna fix this,” he whispered against her lips, “trust me, baby.”

“I do.” She sniffed a little, her nose bumping his. “Go, go on. I’ll see you Sunday.”

As they walked the few blocks home, Maya’s hand locked in Ari’s, he was only partially listening to his daughter as she spoke.

“Dad!” Her voice drew him from his thoughts about how exactly he was going to approach the subject with his soon to be ex-wife. He glanced down at her.

“What?”

“We’re you listening to a word I just said?”

“Honestly, no!”

“Daaaaaad!” She whined and Ari chuckled.

“I’m sorry baby, what were you saying?”

“I was saying that I should get Hannah something for luck.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Mom was talking to Auntie Louisa, and she said that Hannah was going to need plenty of luck being married to you so…”

Ari took a deep breath, anger flashing through his system, rolling his eyes. “Oh, did she?”

“Yup.” Maya nodded.

“And, do you think Hannah’s gonna need luck?”

Maya looked at him, and grinned cheekily. “Well, you are an idiot!”

“Rude!” Ari narrowed his eyes playfully, “mind you, technically, you might look more like your mom but you’re half me. Guess that makes you half an idiot, huh?”

Maya went to dig him in the ribs and with a chuckle, Ari swung her up and onto his shoulders. Her hands tangled in his hair as she giggled, before she leaned down, fingers threading into his beard.

“Han’s right, you do look like a wolf.”

Ari laughed, his hands tightening around his daughter’s ankles as her heels lightly bounced against his chest with each step he took.

#leave no one behind #ari levinson x ofc #ari levinson x original female character #Ari Levinson #ari levinson fanfiction #red sea diving resort #red sea diving resort fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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wanderinginksplot · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! I wanted to make a request from the “Everything is terrible, so why not have some fics?” post. You said you didn’t have any and I loved the Tech - First Kiss fic you wrote. I wanted to request 15F with fem!reader. I’m thinking more fluff but reader needs to let out some emotions that have been bottled up for a while through some tears. (I hope I’m not asking too much)

Wrecker is my favorite and I moved halfway across the country from home to figure out life for myself and I’m kinda homesick myself.

Hey, @gjrain20-starwars! Thank you so much for the request! I’m realizing that this is probably toeing the line between fluff and hurt/comfort, and I apologize! Enjoy!

---

Wrecker + Homesick Fem!Reader

You crept quietly through the halls of Spearpoint Outpost. There was a strict, recently established curfew on base. Ever since Anaxes had become the focus of a Separatist campaign, security on Spearpoint had stepped up from ‘routine’ to ‘unpleasant’.

The only reason you were out and about so late at night was to try to make a rare call home. The middle of the night was the only time there was a chance of catching a spare bit of signal to make a personal call. GAR-standard comms were strong enough to hog all available frequencies when they were being used, so nighttime was the only option. Besides, the time difference meant that your calls would come through in the morning back home on Bespin.

At least, they would if you could ever get through. After a full hour of trying without success, desperate for a scrap of a familiar voice, you had bitten back tears of lonely frustration and started the return journey to your bunk.

You probably should have been more worried about being caught out of barracks after curfew. If a superior officer found you, it would mean a solid dressing-down at best, and likely some disciplinary action. At absolute worst, they could discharge you from the GAR altogether considering the state of things on Anaxes. That didn’t sound like as much of a punishment as it should have in your current emotional state.

Still, you walked quickly and quietly through the winding tunnels that made up Spearpoint Outpost. There weren’t many people around so late, and you were wearing your full uniform. No one would notice that you were out of place unless they were looking.

“Hey!” a voice bellowed from beside you, so abruptly that you fumbled and dropped the comlink you had been cradling absently.

“What the-?” you glanced around rapidly, zeroing in on the source of the noise after only a moment. The greeting had come from Wrecker, the largest, loudest member of the Bad Batch, who had recently been based on Anaxes. It was only a temporary assignment while the GAR had them run a series of missions around the area to ward off the Separatists, but they had been at Spearpoint for a few weeks and would likely be here at least a few more.

A solid chunk of your coworkers weren’t a fan of the Bad Batch. Hunter was nice enough, you guessed, but quiet. He kept to himself as a rule. Tech was whip-smart but not great with social situations. He had alienated some of Spearpoint’s officers by pointing out ways they were minorly breaking regs. Crosshair seemed to be purposefully unpleasant, so most people avoided him on principle. Wrecker, though, had gone out of his way to make friends on Spearpoint.

Somehow, you in particular had attracted his attention. If the Bad Batch were on-planet, you saw Wrecker at least once every day.

“Wrecker!” you hissed, clutching at your chest. Unnecessarily, you told him, “You scared me!”

You stooped to pick up the comlink, but Wrecker got to it first. It was unfair for someone that big to be so fast, you mused. You tried to grab the comlink from him, but he had a good grip on it. There was no way you were getting it back through force. The idea was laughable.

“Why are you awake so late?” Wrecker asked, ignoring your efforts to get the comlink back.

“Late shift,” you lied. “Just got done.”

He watched you skeptically, the eyebrow over his good eye lifting. “You’ve been off-duty since nineteen-hundred hours, liar.”

You stared at him, aghast. “How do you know that?”

“You’re always done at nineteen-hundred,” he answered simply, studying the comlink.

“Then you know why I need to get back to my barracks before anyone sees me,” you told him, deciding to trust the Bad Batcher. “I’m breaking curfew by about four hours, here.”

“Curfew?” he asked, belting out a laugh that made you nervously glance around at the empty hallway. “No one obeys curfew.”

“I do,” you argued, nettled. “We’re in a war zone.”

“Barely,” Wrecker snorted. “Do you think you’ll bring the Seppies here by being out of bed too late?”

“No, but I’d rather not be demoted,” you said icily. “Now, give me my comlink. I need to get back before anyone catches me or turns me in.”

“Okay,” he agreed easily, handing the comlink over. “I’ll walk you back.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder. Wrecker seemed nice enough, but he was big and loud. Your chances of getting caught with him were much higher than if you were alone. “No, thank you. I’m all right.”

He tsked at you. “Don’t you know we’re in a war zone? I’m coming along.”

You rolled your eyes and walked a little faster in hope of losing him. Of course, he was faster than you ever gave him credit for, so he kept up with ease.

“So, who was important enough that you’re willing to risk a demotion to talk to them?” Wrecker asked, gesturing to the comlink in your hand. “Boyfriend?”

“No,” you denied instantly. “My family. I haven’t… haven’t seen them since I joined the GAR. I’ve only gotten to speak to them a few times.”

Wrecker was silent at that, but a glance up at him revealed that he seemed deep in thought. “You miss them.”

“I do,” you admitted, wrapping your arms around yourself, “but it’s more than that. I miss everything about my home. I miss the food in Cloud City. I miss the birds and the sunsets. I miss being home, you know?”

You vaguely recognized that you were rambling, but the words wouldn’t stop. “I don’t know what I’m even doing here. Everything is different and I’m scared all of the time. Sometimes, I think all of this was a mistake.”

You finally stopped talking and pretended to study the hallway wall, doing your best to sniffle in a way that he wouldn’t hear. Of course, it would have been hard to miss the horrible, thick sound of tears in your voice. You subtly wiped your face and cleared your throat.

What were you doing? Wrecker was an elite soldier, even more so than the other troopers that constantly surrounded you. He had literally been bred for strength and durability. You couldn’t afford to look weak in front of any of them, but especially not in front of Wrecker. He was the strongest man you had ever known. He must think you were so silly, crying over a home and family when they were safe. You were just away from them right now. There was no need for tears. You were just having trouble convincing your heart about that.

A large hand settled on your shoulder, the immense weight of it grounding you.

“I understand,” Wrecker said softly - well, as softly as you had ever heard him speak. “I don’t have a home, but I have a family. I don’t know what I would do without them. I’d hate to be away from ‘em.”

“Even… Even Crosshair?” you joked weakly, interrupted by a slight cracking in your voice.

Wrecker chuckled, the sound lower and more personal than you were used to hearing from him. “Even Crosshair. Don’t tell him I said that, though. Family is family, even if we drive each other crazy sometimes. And it wasn’t a mistake, coming here. I might be biased, ‘cause this is the only way I met you, but different isn’t bad, ya know? You’re doing your best and it’s helping you grow. It’s uncomfortable now, but uncomfortable and scared are the first steps to some great stuff.”

“I guess-” you hiccuped softly and laughed a little at the ridiculousness of having a post-midnight philosophical therapy session with the massive Bad Batch member. “I guess you do understand.”

Wrecker hummed an agreement at that. “Besides, home and family aren’t just the stuff you left behind, ya know? You’ve got friends here.” He beamed, squeezing your shoulder with what must have been a tiny fraction of his immense strength. “And, hey, you’ve got me!”

“Do I?” you asked, enjoying the first effortless smile you had worn in a while.

“Of course! I want to be part of your new family.” He paused, rubbing at the back of his neck. “If that’s okay with you, I mean.”

“I…” you paused to swipe under your eyes once more. “I would like that, I think.”

“Good!” Wrecker smiled, stooping toward you. You were wrapped up in the best hug of your life before you knew what was happening.

Wrecker was even more giant this close, and you were surrounded on all sides by warmth and solid muscle. He squeezed and lifted you just a bit, letting your feet dangle a short distance above the ground. You couldn’t reach all the way around his broad back, but you had your arms wrapped around him anyway, holding onto him just as tightly as he was to you.

When you finally patted his back, Wrecker gently deposited you onto your feet once more and stepped back. His eyes were bright and warm, which perfectly matched how you felt. Hugging Wrecker had felt like taking a deep breath, like a sip of water after a hard workout, like stretching after a long transport ride.

“Thank you, Wrecker,” you said. It felt like too simple a phrase to sum up everything you were feeling, but it was everything you had.

“Anytime,” he replied easily. “I mean it. If you need anything, whether it’s a hug or to hit someone, come find me.”

You nodded, and he pulled a faux serious face. “Now, off to bed before someone finds out you’re breaking curfew.”

“We are in a war zone,” you agreed with a grin.

The rest of the short walk to your bunk took place in a companionable silence. As you reached to type the code into the pad next to the door, Wrecker tapped your wrist to stop you.

“Hey, you should come by the Havoc Marauder tomorrow,” he suggested quietly.

You frowned. “Why? Didn’t you guys crash-land like, two days ago?”

“Yeah, why?” Wrecker asked, looking confused. His face cleared a moment later. “Oh, no, we aren’t going anywhere. But I’ll get Tech to kick up the power on your comlink. You should be able to talk to your family without GAR comms interfering. Your long-distance family, I mean.”

You felt the smile spread over your face, but Wrecker interrupted as you started to thank him. “And, that way, you’ll be able to contact us when we’re off-planet. Ya know, in case you want to talk to your new family, too.”

“That sounds perfect,” you accepted gratefully, not typing in the code to your barracks even after he gestured you toward the keypad. You really shouldn’t risk making him uncomfortable… but you were too selfish not to take advantage of the opportunity. You held your arms out a bit. “One more hug?”

From the chuckle that rumbled through his chest as you were squeezed against it, Wrecker was only too happy to oblige.

---

A/N - if this was a little too hurt/comfort and not enough fluff, let me know! I’d be happy to write another chapter with more fluff. Thank you so much (again) for making this request! (As a side note, I also moved far away from home and it was one of the best decisions I ever made. It’s hard, but the experience will make you a stronger, more independent person. You’re doing amazing!)

If anyone wants to make a request, I dearly love writing them! I might come up with another prompt list eventually, but here is the original prompt list in case you need some ideas. Read other one-shots from the same prompt list on my masterlist.

Thanks for reading!

(Update 7/02/21: this now has a sequel chapter here!)

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars the bad batch #star wars fanfiction #star wars fic #wrecker #bad batch wrecker #wrecker x you #wrecker x reader #homesick #fic request

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magnhild · 4 years ago

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Nora Valkyrie, Identity, and Purpose

Hey everyone, Blaire here, and almost exactly a year ago, I made this mess of a post where I laid out all of my thoughts on Nora and what I thought the show could have in store for her.

And honestly, most of my ideas were way off, and not at all correct. Also, the post kind of flopped.

Thankfully, Volume 8 has given me a chance to redeem myself, and write another, more coherent, essay about my favourite RWBY character; where this Volume seems to be taking her character, and what it means to me, personally.

Buckle up.

To the vast majority of people in the RWBY fandom, Nora is the least-developed character, and the one most lacking in dimension. Most of her character seems to be defined by two things; her energy and love for fighting, and her relationship on Ren.

Volume 8 took note of these conceptions, and addressed them head-on.

Of course, any keen-eyed viewer will have noted Nora’s hidden depths even before this volume, which I noticed in last year’s post. She is perhaps the most perceptive of the main cast, at least, when it comes to people’s feelings and relaionships. She was the only one to really comment on Pyrrha’s crush on jaune, and the first to bring up Blake and Yang’s growing relationship. It was also her level-headedness that resolved RNJR’s argument in Volume 4, Chapter 9.

Volume 7 also showed us her innate desire to protect the weak, and her disdain to those who have the power to help, but refuse. I personally get the feeling that this was her driving motivation in becoming a Huntress; to protect people who cannot protect themselves, perhaps because she doesn’t want anyone to have to grow up as she did. Nora’s fury at Ironwood in V7C7 is esepcially signifigant, because it’s the angriest we’ve ever seen her before, even more so in that this anger is directed at someone with much more authority than her.

But these little details were only the tip of the iceberg. These were traits she already had, and while they help to add layers to her character, they’ve done very little in terms of her actual development.

This is where Volume 8 came in stronger than any other.

Volume 7 hinted to us that Ren and Nora’s relationship was beginning to get more complicated, between their bickering, Ren’s dismissiveness at Nora, and their kiss in V7C6. By the end of the volume, it was clear that they were still struggling, despite their clear love for each other. Volume 8 carried this thread along, having them split into different parties, and Nora giving Ren a bit of attitude we’ve not really seen her direct at him before.

She’s frustrated with him, and disappointed that he can’t see what she sees. But despite her tough front, V8C2 then hints that she’s sadder about the split than she’s letting on, after May brings up Nora’s ‘friends’. C3 then brings this to a head, where we get a conversation that sees Nora opening up to Blake and Yang, and revealing a deeply sad truth about herself- that she has no idea who she is without Ren, because she’s spent so much of her life with him and him alone, and her feelings for him have shaped so much of who she thinks she is. We’ve never seen her so hopeless and lost, especially after she reveals that, as far as she’s concerned, all she’s good for is hitting stuff.

Right in these few minutes, the show takes how the audience percieves Nora, and reveals to us that those two core traits are the gateways to a far deeper insight of her character. She’s known for her relationship with Ren, but wait- what about when he’s not there with her? She’s known for hitting stuff, but wait- that’s all she thinks she’s good for.

It’s revealed to us that, not only is this how most of the audience percievs Nora, but it’s how she percieves herself. And for all her energy and upbeat attitude, deep down, she thinks incredibely lowly of herself. For all her confidence in her fighting abilities, she lacks confidence in herself as a person.

Surprisingly enough, the ‘who am I?’ character arc is one that was hardly explored at all up until this point, despite it being one of the most common and signifgant character arcs in fictional media. And I don’t think many of us at all could have imagined that Nora would be the one to get that arc, when she’s always seemed so self-assured on the surface.

And then, when Penny is in need of help, Nora takes Weiss’ advice to heart, and does the one thing she believes she’s capable of- being strong, and hitting stuff.

Nora overcharging her Semblance to take down the wall is seen by a lot of the fandom as some kind of win for Nora; as her ‘big moment’. But while it’s certainly a really cool and badass scene, it was far from a triumph for her.

This was Nora at perhaps her lowest point so far in the series. This was Nora figuring ‘well, if this is all I’m good for, I’ll do it to the extreme’. This was Nora thinking her only purpose was to greatly endanger herself for the sake of others, because she figured she was the only one who could. And she almsot got herself killed for it.

While certainly a defining moment, it was far from triumphant. It wasn’t a win. It was a self-destrcutive act that reflected how little she thinks of herself; that she’s not worth anything unless she’s pushing herself to the limit doing the one thing she thinks she’s good at.

And to drive the knife in harder, it backfires horribly.

Because now she’s bedridden and critically injured, with scars that are probably permanent; a reminder of her lowest point, forever marked on her body. She can’t fight now, can’t help at all, and Salem has launched her attack on Atlas.

And in her half-unconsious state in V8C7, she realizes this, delivering an absolutely heartbreaking line:

As far as she’s concerned, her last attempt at doing what she thinks only she can do- what she thinks is all she can do- has prevented her from doing anything of worth at all. She lost one half of herself when she split from Ren, and now she’s lost the other half too. The two things that she defines herself by are gone. And the worst part is, we don’t know if she’s awar of the fact Salem has begun her attack. We could very well see her fully wake up, only to realize that the world has begun ending while she was unconsious, and she can’t do anything about it.

Now, this scene, and Nora’s struggle in this Volume as a whole, hit home for me in particular.

If you follow me on Twitter, you’re probably aware that Nora is only of my hightest- and only- kins. And I’ve only been able to relate to her more and more after what we’ve got of her in this Volume.

I am chronically disabled. I have a connective tissue disorder known as Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, which fucks up my body in a multitude of different ways, but signifigantly affects the joints. For me, it hits worst in my back, ankles, and my fingers. The fingers are my main problem. To make matters worse, I’ve also been victim to intense pains in my shoulder, which came out of nowhere a couple of months ago and have only gotten worse since. The slightest movement aggrevates it. As any follower of mine would know, I am both an artist and a writer. I create both for fun, and I’ve studied writing as a profession. It is these things I’m known for being good at, and not much else.

Thanks to my disability and my shoulder though, I have to do these things less. Even on perscription pain medication, it still hurts. It hurts to write this even now; my shoulder feels like it’s burning up from the inside. It will only get worse over time.

So, I’m finding myself in Nora’s position. I can’t do what I’m good at anymore, and I don’t know what to do with myself as a result. Not doing these things makes me feel lazy and unproductive, and makes me feel that the people around me will abandon me so long as i can’t keep providing them content. And I’ve gotta say, it hurts a lot, and I don’t just mean physically.

Because of what I’m going through, it’s especially important to see my favourite RWBY character just so happening to be dealing with the same problem; the same loss of idenity and purpose. We don’t know who we are or what we’re good for without the things we think define us.

While I’m unsure of my own future though, I find comfort in knowing that Nora’s problem will be tackled and addressed; that her friends will help her to rediscover herself and find her true worth. And while we’ve got a while to go until we’ll be able to see the Volume continue, I’m incredibely excited to see where Nora’s arc goes, especially if we can get some backstory along the way. I find myself wondering if her life before Ren is part of why she thinks so little of herself without him- was it the way she was raised to think? Is this the fault of her childood circumstances? Or is this just something she developed on her own, after becoming too dependant on Ren for comfort?

Whatever answers we get, I have faith that Nora’s story will be told well, and I’m very sure that it’s only just beginning. Even if she finds her worth before the end of the volume, her story won’t be over yet, not when we’ve still likely got at least four more volumes to go after this one.

In just seven episodes, Nora Valkyrie has gone from one of the least developed characters, to one of the most interesting and relatable, at least, in my eyes. There is so much more depth to her character than having a crush on Ren, and being the strong girl who hits stuff. There’s a layer of tragedy to her character that we’re touching upon now, and I’m excited to dive into it.

Thank you all for reading!

#rwby #my writing #rwby analysis #rwby spoilers #nora valkyrie

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jayeray-hq · 4 years ago

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How He Shows You Affection: Miya Osamu

Hey guys, this one also really hurts to re-post, but I’m really hopeful that since the Kuroo one did so well, this one will too. It was my first request and from the amazing rice-hime too, which is probably the only reason it did so well, so big shout out to her for being amazing! Notes: 84

If you want to know why I’m re-posting check here

Post Time Skip/Manga Ending Spoilers!

Warnings: None all fluff!

How He Shows You Affection Masterlist - Character Masterlist

He Makes Time for You

You waited patiently at your table, quietly sipping your drink as you waited for the store to close. It was date night, so you’d dressed up in one of your cutest outfits and while you could’ve waited patiently at home for Osamu to come get you you’d decided to surprise him at work instead. The way his whole face had lit up when he spotted you and the appreciative look in his eyes as he spotted what you were wearing made it more than worth it.

You didn’t get to talk to him for long, the restaurant was too busy for that, only managing to exchange quick greetings, and affectionate brush of the hands before he was forced to move on to the next customer but it was more than enough to tide you over. After all in just a short while you’d be able to have him all to yourself, so it was more than enough.

More than one patron had wondered why Onigiri Miya closed early on Tuesdays. It was a strange day for such a thing after all. Most people thought it was a restocking thing, or a cleaning day, only those closest to you knew it was because your boyfriend had decided early on when he’d started his business that no matter how busy he got he was always going to set aside one evening a week that he could devote wholly to you. Thus the shop closed at four o’clock on Tuesdays and anyone who wanted to have their Onigiri had to come early or miss out.

He’d had more than a few complaints about it too, but he’d never cared about that at all, waving them off and telling anyone who complained that it was their own fault if they missed out. After all the store was open regular hours all the other days of the week, and even stayed open late on Fridays and Saturdays, so there was no point in whining about one day.

Once you’d tried to suggest that it might be okay if he didn’t, that you would be okay with him putting his restaurant first, as you knew it was his dream job, but he’d been very quick to shut that down. He’d insisted that yes, the restaurant was his dream, but you were part of his dream too, and part of his future and having time with you, just for you was important to him. You hadn’t been able to argue with him after that, and just gratefully accepted what he’d offered your heart full to the bursting for the incredibly man who had somehow fallen in love with you.

A few years in and most of the patrons were used to the Tuesday closures, and knew to come early, but there was still the occasional late comer, who refused to be budged, and it seemed tonight was one of those nights. He’d come in at four on the dot, pushing his way through the door and nearly knocking over the poor employee who’d been trying to shut and lock it, the open sign already flipped to closed, and hadn’t even apologized. Instead he’d marched right up to the counter and rattled off his order right into your boyfriend’s extremely unimpressed face.

“We’re closed,” Osamu informed the clearly self-important business man in a bored drawl. “The door says you close at four!” the man blustered clearly angry.

“And by my count it’s now exactly,” he paused for a minute to check the watch you’d given him for your last anniversary that he wore faithfully every day, “4:01 sir, which means we’re closed.”

“Well that’s a ridiculous hour to close anyway,” he informed your boyfriend flushed but not backing down, “Not even dinner time! Besides I came all the way here, the least you can do is give me my meal. I’m a paying customer.”

“We’re closed,” Osamu repeated slowly for the man as if he were a petulant toddler than needed things explained very slowly and in small words, his tone making you hide a smile behind your drink, “That means everythin’ is turned off, and we’re all packin’ up to leave. I couldn’t make yer order even if I wanted to.” “Well then what is she doing here huh?” the man demanded pointing an accusing finger in your direction, startling you enough you nearly spilled your drink, “I demand to be served too!”

“She ain’t a customer,” your boyfriend informed the man, a clearly warning edge to his voice, “That’s my girlfriend, and she’s waitin’ there fer me ta be finished so if ya could please vacate the premises so we can get goin’ I’d appreciate it.” “How unprofessional,” the man scoffed derisively, “Having your girlfriend here. I demand to speak to your manager.”

“Yer lookin’ at the manager,” Osamu countered with a bored sigh, “And he’s tellin’ you to please leave so we can close.”

The man blustered a bit more, but in the end he did concede, stomping out of the door and shouting how he was going to be in contact with the owner, and would be leaving a very poor review, which made you frown turning to look at your boyfriend in concern, though as per usual with him he looked completely unruffled by the whole thing.

“’Spose it’s a bit too late to tell him I’m the owner too huh?” he asked when he saw you looking at him, his mouth curling into a smile.

“Is it really okay?” you asked hesitantly, “I could’ve waited a little longer for you to make his food. I wouldn’t have minded.”

“Well I woulda minded,” he countered casually pulling his hat off and ruffling a hand through his dark hair, making it fall across his forehead rather appealingly, “Sides, even if I wanted too, everythin’s pretty much put away anyway. I wouldn’t have had the ingredients.”

“But what if he does leave a bad review?” you asked with a frown, concerned for his business.

“It’s just one review sweets,” he assured you, “An if he does I’ll be sure to respond to it, if it’ll make ya feel better and explain the situation, though I don’t think it’ll matter much.”

“Alright,” you agreed, feeling a bit better at his reassurance, “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” he told you firmly, “Besides I wouldn’t have wanted to keep my favorite girl waitin’ any longer than she has ta be, just let me wipe everythin’ down, do one final check and get changed and we can get goin’ on our date.”

“Let me help,” you told him, quickly finishing your drink and tossing the disposable cup away moving toward the counter to grab one of the rags he kept there to help wipe down the tables.

“Ya don’t have ta sweets, me n the rest can handle it,” he told you grabbing hold of the other end of the rag to hold you in place.

“I know,” you told him with a smile, giving a quick glance around the shop to ensure no one could see before leaning over the counter to give him a light peck on the lips and explaining, “But we’ll finish faster if I help, and the sooner we finish the sooner I get you all to myself.”

“Alright,” he agreed a playful smile on his lips, and a soft look on his face that he only ever shared with you, “Have it your way then.”

“I will,” you told him with a grin, before bouncing off to do as you’d said you would a cheerful spring in your step as you contemplated how very lucky you were to have your man who loved you enough to set aside the time for you even if it meant dealing with angry customers just to spend a little extra time with you.

He Tugs at Your Ear

You stared out the window contemplatively watching the rain hit the glass. It was kind of a dreary day today and while you could sometimes enjoy the rain today it was making you feel a bit out of it. Frankly you had a lot to get done, but you couldn’t seem to drum up the motivation to do it.

You were so spaced out you didn’t even notice your boyfriend sliding a plate of food in front of you, and gently nudging your laptop away too distracted by watching the path the raindrops carved down the shop window. You probably would’ve continued with your daze, not even noticing the delicious smelling food just waiting to be consumed if not for the gentle tug at your ear.

The touch was a familiar one but even so you jerked slightly in surprise, your eyes turning to your boyfriend who had the lobe of your ear caught gently between his thumb and forefinger. It was a gesture he used a lot when he wanted to get your attention, a leftover remnant from his childhood with his twin, where Osamu would be forced to grab hold of him somehow to get him to shut up and pay attention.

Though you had to admit he was a lot sweeter with you than he was with Atsumu, probably because unlike his brother he had no particular desire to cause you pain when he was trying to catch your attention. He never twisted or yanked, just gently tugged on you, a disparity the blonde twin had noticed and liked to complain about loudly to anyone who would listen.

It was a rather sweet gesture honestly and an intimate touch you’d gotten used to after dating him for so long, even if it did still make you jump a bit from time to time, when he startled you, like he had just then.

“Looks like yer thinkin’ some pretty hefty thoughts there sweets,” he pointed out, his voice gentle with concern as he released your ear to gently cup your jaw running his thumb affectionately over your cheekbone, “Somethin’ botherin’ ya?”

“Nothing in particular,” you admitted with a wry smile, “Just feeling a little down I guess.”

“Well maybe this will cheer ya up,” he urged, nudging the plate of onigiri toward you, “Or at the very least fill yer belly.”

You couldn’t help the slight smile that crept over your face as you looked at the food he’d brought you. He’d shaped them into cute little pandas, no doubt especially for you and you didn’t doubt they were full of your favorite flavored fillings too.

Honestly you were pretty sure Osamu thought food was the answer for everything, and in some cases he was right, but this time just the gentle tug of his fingers on your ear had already lifted your mood a bit. The gesture more than enough to remind you just how much he cared about you.

He Cooks for You

The sound of your alarm woke you from a deep sleep, and you groaned quietly to yourself. It was morning again, and you really didn’t want to get up, but you had to work, so you slowly forced yourself to sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and heaving a tired sigh.

You couldn’t help the sad glance you cast at the other side of the bed, which was already empty, the sheets cold, the owner gone a long time ago, no doubt already hard at work at his store. These days you didn’t get to wake up with Osamu in your arms or him in yours very often the way you had when you were in college. Not when he had a store to run, food prep to do, and employees to supervise.

You understood even if it did suck somedays to not find him beside you when you woke. Especially the mornings when you woke up and would’ve given almost anything to hold and be held by him just for a little while. Still needs must, and you were sure if you asked he’d be more than happy to cuddle you all evening if you asked it of him. He was incredibly accommodating that way.

With a tired sigh you pulled yourself from the bed and got ready for the day, doing your morning ablutions, picking out the clothes you’d need to wear, and trudging to the kitchen. You yawned as you glanced blearily around the room only to have the whiteboard on the fridge catch your eye.

You and Osamu had agreed to get the thing so the two of you could let one another know if you ran out of things and start a grocery list, since your boyfriend got a little cranky sometimes when he didn’t have the ingredients he needed. However you also used it to pass notes to one another, and it seemed he’d left one for you.

His handwriting was fairly neat though judging from the way it was a little sloppier than usual he’d either been in a hurry or too tired to really concentrate on what he was doing when he wrote it. However, you couldn’t help the fond smile that touched your lips when you read it.

Mornin’ Sweets,

Made yer favorite fer ya. It’s in the oven. Don’t forget to turn it off when ya take it out. Have a good day. Love ya.

-Samu

Curious you turned to the oven, which was indeed on, though set at a very low temperature, just enough to keep the food inside warm without cooking it further. You followed his instruction and turned the oven off before pulling the foil covered plate out, peeling the wrap back to see what he’d left you.

You weren’t able to stop the tender grin that spread across your face as you saw what he’d left you. He had actually made you your favorite breakfast, along with a couple side dishes he no doubt thought you’d like, including little sausages cut like octopi. It must’ve taken him forever, and no doubt forced him to wake up even earlier than he needed to be.

Your lip trembled slightly your heart feeling so full it almost hurt, touched at the clear care and thought your boyfriend had put into this for you. You honestly couldn’t help tearing up slightly even as you smiled so wide your cheeks hurt. Eventually you managed to get your emotions under control and eat your breakfast feeling like you could almost taste how very much he loved you with each bite.

Before you left for work you made sure to leave him a voicemail, knowing he wouldn’t see it until later, but wanting to express your appreciation all the same in the best way you could for the moment.

It seemed he liked being able to hear your voice and your enjoyed your messages because it was the start of a new tradition. One where he cooked you breakfast every morning and you messaged him in some way in return to express your love and appreciation for your wonderful boyfriend.

#JayeRayWrites #how he shows you affection #miya osamu #osamu miya #osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x y/n #miya osamu x you #osamu miya x reader #miya osamu fluff #miya osamu fic #miya osamu scenarios #Osamu fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyu imagines #haikyū!!#haikyu fluff #JayeRayReplies

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writingblackpink · 4 years ago

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Coincidence (pt. 1)

genre: fluff (?)

word count: 3.6k

pairing: rosé x reader

Wherein your friend drags you out to dinner and you meet a familiar face....but is that all she is?

A/N: Hi :) Here’s another Rosé x reader I’ve had in the reserves for a while! A part 2 is in the works, but if you have any suggestions or ideas, drop them in my ask! Enjoy!

You don’t even know why you’re here. You really, like REALLY, wanted to stay home and call it an early night after the week you’ve had. Your boss seemed to only speak to you to tell you you’d done something wrong, a pipe burst in you and your friend’s apartment causing the both of you to rearrange the furniture once (and then back again four days later once the landlord was able to get someone to fix it.), and to top it all off, you spilled coffee down your white blouse on the way in to work today and didn’t have time to go home to change so you sat in a coffee stained shirt in four meetings enduring your colleagues’ judgmental eyes while you tried to make light of the situation by making fun of yourself for spilling the coffee in the first place. It didn’t help at all - if anything, it just made your coworkers think you were even more strange than they already thought you were. Curse your caffeine addiction. Honestly, you probably need a new job, but that’s an issue for another day. Right now, you just want to be wrapped in a blanket in your cozy bed, blocking out the outside world and getting a good night’s rest but it just seems like nothing can go your way this week.

So, you’re here, in the passenger seat of your best friend’s car, face pressed against the window as you stare up at the city lights. You actually think it’s kind of beautiful, the neon on the signs above you mixed with the light mist on the window causing the color to soften and blur just a bit. The sounds of the bustling city muffled by the alt radio station your friend likes to listen to and the sound of the car driving through the rain kissed streets. It kind of looks like the tumblr moodboards you always see while scrolling your dash late at night. If you were creatively inclined at all you’d probably take out your phone for a picture to post to your small Instagram following, but then you remember that you don’t even want to be here so you’d rather wallow and pout for a bit longer.

“You look like a sad puppy with your face squished against the window like that,” your friend whines out. You peel your face away from the window and turn towards her, not missing the pout across her lips.

“I told you I don’t even want to go out.” You mumble back.

Your friend always has a way of making you do things you’d rather not. And it’s really not like you hate doing them. You do like her company after all and don’t mind spending time together regardless if you’re doing something you personally enjoy or not. Nine times out of ten, you actually enjoy doing whatever she drags you out to do, but you’d never say that out loud. At least not right now.

Tonight was different. She had mentioned that one of her coworkers that she has the tiniest crush on invited her to dinner except it’s not a date because her coworker was bringing a friend and she was bringing you. You tried to convince her to just go herself and tell her coworker she wants it to be a date, but that was more so because you REALLY did not want to go and not because you wanted or cared to see your friend happy. You did care for her happiness, just not in this particular moment. She caught on to the act pretty quickly and wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Just like every other time, you caved.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” she said, looking at you with a wide smile and pleading eyes. “You always say you need to branch out and meet new people. This is a good opportunity to do so. I mean, you’ve had the same four friends forever. Expand your world!”

She did have a point. When you moved to the city together after college, she immediately met and made a handful of friends. Most of the friends you have currently are people you’ve met through her. It’s been over a year now and you still have yet to branch out. The more you thought about it, the more you were losing your resolve not to go.

“Alright, alright, I’ll go. You can stop pouting. But if this dinner is lame I’m SO calling myself an Uber and getting the hell out.”

You left it at that as she squealed and grabbed her keys, telling you that there were reservations soon and, oh, also that she’s only giving you ten minutes to get ready. You grumbled your way up to your room, cursing under your breath and immediately regretting agreeing to this mysterious dinner.

She pulls into a parking spot and cuts the engine on the car, abruptly stopping the soft sound of the radio and leaving you two in the silence with only the rhythmic tapping of rain drops sprinkling across the windshield. You get lost in the serenity of the moment before your friend rips you away.

“Hey, let’s go. We’re already like,” you follow her gaze to where she glances quickly at the time on her phone, “ten minutes late, thanks to you.” The last part muttered more softly and sarcastically than the rest.

You roll your eyes and go to unlatch the door, immediately letting the cool air slide into the car. It’s a brisk fall evening. Not too chilly, but the quiet mist falling from the sky mixed with the cool breeze makes you want to crawl back into the car and never come out. Goosebumps break out along your skin when the wind brushes against you. You really should’ve brought a jacket, you think. You round the car and your friend immediately links your arm with hers, happily swinging them back and forth.

“I’m so glad you decided to come out,” she says cheerfully, and put that way, you can’t deny that her happiness doesn’t also make you feel glad you decided to come out.

You step into the restaurant together, the change in temperature causing you to briefly shiver as you adjust to the warmth. It’s nothing too fancy, just a casual sushi place across town you’ve been to a few times. The place is modern and open, with tables scattered uniformly around the room. Definitely targeted to people your age. It’s moderately busy for a Friday night, but not too busy, which you appreciate. The last thing you wanted to do was spend the evening yelling at each other over the loud voices of strangers in a crowded restaurant. If you had to leave the house, you decided this was an okay place to be.

“How many in your party?” The server asks. You stay silent while your friend smiles politely and mentions that you’re actually meeting someone here, eyes already scanning the room. The server smiles and backs away, letting your friend search for whoever you’re both meeting.

“Ah, there they are!” She exclaims, her eyes lighting up as she pulls your hand and weaves in between tables to get to your destination. As you follow her gaze, your eyes land on a table with two women facing away from you, one blonde, one brunette. That must be them, you think to yourself.

As you get closer to the table, you hear a fit of laughter erupt from the blonde. The sound is familiar, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. The sound was so warm and inviting, maybe that’s why it seems familiar you think to yourself as you both continue moving towards the table. Your friend rounds the square table and who you believe to be her coworker looks over with wide eyes realizing who’s finally arrived.

“I’m so sorry, we would’ve been here on time, but THIS one took her sweet time getting ready.” She uses her thumb to point in your direction and you immediately scoff, of course going to defend yourself.

“Excuse you, you literally told me ten minutes before we had to leave that we were even coming here, so sorry that—“

“Anyways,” she cuts you off “what’s important is that we made it...eventually. This is my best friend Y/N. Y/N this is Ashley, my coworker.” You immediately hold your hand out for a handshake, but she grabs your wrist and pulls you in for a tight hug. In your peripheral vision you see the blonde facing your direction, but she’s slightly out of focus so you can’t tell if she’s actually looking at you or just in your direction.

“Any friend of Joy is a friend of mine.” And you think that this girl is a little too friendly for your liking. Not that you didn’t like affectionate people, it’s just that, you didn’t like affectionate people tonight.

As you pull away you glance over to the blonde, eyeing you like a piece of meat, eyes lidded and a small smirk gracing her features. She’s really pretty, you think for a moment. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders in waves, each strand perfectly in its place. You take a moment to admire the shape of her eyes, almost almond-like, but accentuated by the light smokey makeup look she was going for. She’s just wearing a simple top and jeans, just like everyone else here, but there’s something about her that captivates you. There’s something in the familiarity of her laugh, the warmth of her eyes that makes you think––

Realization hits you. You definitely know this woman. How, you can’t remember, but she seems to see that spark light inside you as your eyes widen slightly in her direction, and she immediately reaches her hand out to shake from across the table.

“Hi. I’m Rosie. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m so sorry, but have we met before?” You spew out, eyebrows furrowed and looking directly into her eyes before really thinking and she snaps back quickly in her soft voice with “Uh, no. I think I would’ve remembered a pretty face like yours.”

Smooth, you think sarcastically. You’re not really in the mood for cheesy one-liners and her lips ticking up in a closed-lip smile just makes it worse. She moves to shake your friend’s hand too and then her gaze lands back on you. She said she didn’t know you, that you two have never met, however the smirk and quick wink she gives you when the other two in your party divert their attention elsewhere tells you a different story. Sensing some weird tension, you feign a cough and divert your eyes to your chair, moving as everyone decides to take their seats.

As dinner progresses you make small talk with the group, just wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. No need to drag this out when your bed is waiting for you at home. Rosie keeps looking at you with admiration, and throughout the whole meal you’ve been wracking your brain to try and remember where you know this girl from. “Come on, Y/N, THINK.”

Just as you were about to decline on dessert and ask for the check, Ashley and Rosie ask for the dessert menu. The waiter brings over four menus and you sigh, giving in and scanning the items. The table has since gone silent in deliberation, and while you’re trying to decide on the cheesecake vs. the chocolate cake, you feel what you think is someone kicking you under the table. You brush it off as an accident and go back to scanning the menu. Except it happens again, and this time whoever is doing it lingers a little longer at your shin, and yeah, that’s a bare foot. You look up to find everyone else looking down, but you glare at Rosie sitting directly across from you just a moment longer. If only you can figure out where you know her from…

You brush it off a second time, not wanting to make a scene, but it happens a third time, and this time when you look up, you find dark eyes peeking at you suggestively over the menu and it suddenly feels like you’ve been hit by a truck. You’re starting to remember bits and pieces, but you can’t create a coherent memory.

A few weeks ago your friend had convinced you yet again to “let loose” and “have some fun” and go out with her and some other friends to some bar that had just opened. You may have gotten a little too loose, to the point where you can’t remember all the fun you actually had. You don’t even really like to drink all that much, you’re usually the designated driver, but there was something about this night that told you to throw all caution to the wind.

You remember getting into an Uber with your friends and heading to the bar. You remember having a few drinks. You remember meeting who you now know as Rosie at the bar, and then everything after that got fuzzier. You both spent some time whispering in each others’ ears in the darkest corner of the bar, drowning out the pounding of the music and the voices of strangers and their drunken dialogue, and you remember leaving with her and taking her to your apartment, but the next thing you remember is waking up in your own bed with a pounding headache and in nothing but an oversized t-shirt, water and pills at your bedside table and a post-it note left on your bedroom door with a “Had fun last night. Hope the hangover isn’t all that bad. Call me -xx”, followed by a phone number. For the life of you, you couldn’t remember the girl’s name, but you felt warm when you thought about the night before, so you added the number in your phone with the lip emoji next to it for no reason other than you wanted to remember the warm feeling that ignited when you thought of her.

Chugging the water and exiting your room late in the afternoon, Joy greeted you with a “So, you had fun last night, huh? I heard you bring someone home? I can’t believe it!” she teased you, “You are able to have a good time!”

You scoffed it off with a “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” rubbing your temples and trying to ignore the ringing in your ears and the blush rising in your cheeks. Your friend never pushed you more about it, and you were grateful for that. You didn’t really have much to tell her anyways.

You’re also not one to bring home pretty girls from bars, but, again, something about that night made you throw every inhibition you had out the window. Maybe it was Rosie herself (from what you can remember, you liked her), maybe it was the alcohol. You couldn’t know for sure and it didn’t really matter. It wasn’t something you regretted, but you also weren’t super proud of it.

You immediately feel heat rush to your face and you feel her foot move up your leg once again. Just as the waiter walks over to the table, you feel the heat in the tips of your ears and just know you won’t be able to make a viable excuse if anyone catches you blushing THIS aggressively. You shoot up out of your chair so suddenly that it draws the attention of everyone at the table, specifically noting how startled Rosie looks at you jolting away from her touch.

“Um, I’m, uh, going to go to the restroom. I’ll pass on dessert.” With that, you turn quickly on your heels and make a beeline for the restroom. As you make it halfway there, you faintly heard Rosie say that she’s going to make a pit stop as well and you hear her chair move as she rises to follow shortly after.

“Shit...shit, shit, shit,” you curse under your breath as you hurriedly make your way into a stall, trying to think of ways you can avoid this humiliation as much as possible. Your non-confrontational attitude causes anxiety to peak in your chest. That, combined with Rosie’s unpredictable actions tonight, has you feeling a bit light-headed. Your breathing shallows. As you’re pacing in the confined space, you hear the door open and close, but no movement. Is she….is she waiting for you?

You decide to take a deep breath and unlock the door, but you gasp when she immediately puts her hand on your shoulder and pushes you against the cool tile wall across from the stall. There’s no one besides you two in there, and you’re worried she can hear your heart basically beating out of your chest. Hell, YOU can hear your deafening heartbeat echoing in your ears.

She moves in like she’s going to kiss you and you immediately tense up. This was not what you were planning on happening when you agreed to dinner tonight. In retrospect, you really should’ve called the Uber as soon as your friend pulled into the parking lot.

You could feel Rosie’s breath on your lips and it was all too much for you. The way she was looking at you, eyes heavy and lidded and oh, so seductive - her scent, faint vanilla and lavender notes that wafted through your nostrils. You couldn’t decide if you wanted to push her away or pull her impossibly closer. You could feel yourself getting lost in everything that was just her and your eyes screwed shut as everything became too much.

You were surprised when she didn’t kiss you. Instead, you felt her lean towards your right side and bring her mouth so close to your ear it made you shiver. The arm that wasn’t on your shoulder moved to rest her palm flat on the wall next to your face. You opened your eyes, but you could no longer see her face. The hairs on the tip of your ear reach up to meet the warm breath fanning across it. You felt your breathing pick up the closer she got.

“Why didn’t you ever call me, baby? You have my number, right?” she whispers seductively, sending a tingle down your spine. It’s so silent, you almost didn’t hear her with how loud your heartbeat is thumping in your ears.

Just as you open your mouth to stumble out a reply, she takes your ear lobe between her teeth and gives it a playful bite. You let out an embarrassing whimper as she does so, feeling yourself immediately melt into her. As she’s pulling away, the door to the bathroom opens and Joy walks in, but stops in her tracks when she sees the two of you.

You both snap your heads toward the intruder. You’ll admit, you’re in a bit of a compromising position, and you can’t tell right now if it would’ve been better for a stranger or Joy to find you like this.

You clear your throat and fidget away from Rosie, straightening out your shirt and moving to the sink to wash your hands while clearing your throat again. Rosie walks past your friend in the mirror and out the door like nothing ever happened. After washing your hands, you also walk past your friend without saying a word, leaving her shocked in the bathroom.

You walk back to the table and find that Rosie has easily fallen back into conversation with Ashley, while you feel like there’s a permanent blush brushed across your features. You try to ignore that though, and join in the conversation just as Joy is making her way back to the table. She glares at you a moment, still confused, and even though you see her trying to get your attention, you ignore her and hope she just takes it as you being too immersed in the current conversation to notice.

The rest of the evening goes by smoothly. No suggestive touching or longing glances, but you’re now realizing that that was what made this dinner interesting, and realizing so made you sad to see them go.

Soon enough, you’re saying your goodbyes with hugs outside of the restaurant with promises to meet up again soon. Rosie gives you a lingering hug and whispers in your ear once again, out of sight and earshot from the others.

“I’m serious, Y/N, call me. I want to get to know you better.”

She pulls away and you nod, despite still not having made up your mind on whether or not you were actually going to call her. She didn’t need to know that right now. Your mind is a mess and you’re still trying to sort out exactly what happened that night. Even if you weren’t going to call her, it’s not like you’d tell her anyways. Your non-confrontational nature wouldn’t allow it.

You smile and part ways, making your way to the car, hoping your friend wouldn’t question what she saw, but deep down knowing she will. It’s stopped raining now, and all that’s left is the wet pavement reflecting the streetlights above you. You know the barrage of questions is coming, but you’re trying to savor this moment of calm before the storm.

You take a seat in the car and look over to your friend who’s already staring at you. It’s a bit of an ominous scene in the late evening, the only light coming from the minimal street lights outside your window. You stay silent. There’s no way you can really anticipate what’s going to come out of her mouth first. Your thoughts are cut short when she starts speaking into the silence.

“So, are you going to tell me what I saw in the restroom earlier, or am I going to have to pull it out of you?” she asked accusingly.

“Joy,” you responded sincerely, “can you keep a secret?”

#blackpink writing #blackpink imagines #blackpink #blackpink scenarios #blackpink rosé #rosé park #roséblackpink #gg scenarios #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #rosé x female reader

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mikauzoran · 4 years ago

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The Ascendancy of The Plan ™ (re: Mikau’s WIPs)

So, I feel like I’ve gotten a lot accomplished in the past few months since I last did one of these status updates. Most of the stories I ended up writing were much longer than anticipated, and I’ve had a lot of ideas just pop into my head that I hadn’t originally been planning, so this list isn’t going to look very different from the last one, but I promise that I have accomplished things, and there are some new projects in the works. ^.^;

I’m currently posting the final chapters of Among the Wild Things and Betting Against the House. Below is a list of works I have planned for the coming months. Let me know what sounds interesting or what you’re excited for.

Anhedonia: When Adrien Met Marinette: (Adrienette, post-reveal/pre-relationship, roommates) So, I’m taking a screenplay writing class, and we’re studying the scripts of several movies to get a feel for how the writer evokes different cognitive responses from the audience. One of the movies is When Harry Met Sally. I’ve never seen this movie, but apparently it’s about two friends finally ending up together after some trials and tribulations. It’s about never giving up on finding love and happiness...only I’m feeling depressed at the moment, and I don’t want to hear about true love because I’m lonely and despair of ever finding someone to share a life with. So I’m using my feelings to write a story. ^.^ Naturally. XD

It’s post-reveal/pre-relationship Adrienette. They’re roommates, and there’s been a misunderstanding because Marinette didn’t tell Adrien how she felt about him after she found out he was Chat Noir, and he’s told her that he’s over her because he thinks that the only way to preserve their friendship (since she’s already turned down his advances as Ladybug, so, obviously, she wouldn’t want him as Marinette either). It has a happy ending, and they straighten things out because I still believe in finding true love and happiness. XD I’m a sap like that, and these two deserve happiness.

Ladrien Present: (Adrienette, Ladrien) I’m still trying to write a story where Ladybug brings Adrien’s birthday party to him. ^.^; I have half of it written (the Adrienette half), and I have an outline for the rest. I just...need to sit down and make myself write it. I’ve seriously been procrastinating on this one. I don’t know what my deal is. -.-;

Marichat Prompt: This is an overflow prompt I received as part of my Productive Procrastination Prompt Giveaway. It’s about Chat Noir visiting Marinette and it somehow coming up in conversation that Marinette has always thought of Chat as a player. For some reason, this makes Chat really angry because he can’t stand her in particular thinking that about him. I thought this story out a couple months ago, but I didn’t write it down, so now I’ve forgotten, and I’m going to have to think up the plot all over again. XD

Alyadrino Prompt: Someone sent me an Ask that said, “Snuggle party makes me imagine what if nino and alya accidentally did to adrien what luka and marinette intentionally did to him in shades 12″, and I thought, “…Oh, all right. Why not?” I had a basic outline of what I wanted to do with this story a couple months ago, but I didn’t write it down, so now I have to figure it out all over again. Oh, well. I have the basic idea, I think.

Lukadrigaminette: At the beginning of the month, I thought, “I should do Valentine’s Day stories!” I ended up writing a Marichat one, and then I had this idea. It’s not Valentine’s Day related, so I decided to shelve it for later. So, several years ago, my friend and I concocted this scheme to bake for our respective crushes and win their hearts that way. It’s a really fond memory for me, and I’m turning it into a Lukadrigaminette story. Luka and Kagami join forces to bake for Adrien and Marinette in order to win their love.

Plagg and Wayzz Prompt: I got a comment on one of my stories that said, “Can you do a top wayzz bottom plagg one? Preferably in universe and in human form. Doesn’t have to be smut.” First I thought, “What the bloody hell?” because it was a comment on a Lukadrien story, and that’s all it said, and I thought, “Well, that’s random.” I’ve never really written Wayzz before, but this gave me the idea for a story where the team is up against an akuma that somehow separates them from their kwamis, leaving the heroes unable to detransform and the kwamis in defenseless human form. What I came up with really doesn’t have anything to do with the prompt other than Plagg and Wayzz will both be in human form. It will probably just end up being a Lady Noir identity reveal piece, honestly.

Supportive Adrien Lukadrien One-Shot(?): I haven’t actually pinned this story down well yet. ^.^; I was just thinking that I wanted to write something where Adrien is the one supporting and encouraging Luka, since I typically write Luka being a supportive presence for Adrien. I was thinking that the scenario could be that Luka is feeling down because Marinette still loves Adrien and things aren’t going well between Marinette and Luka, so Adrien takes Luka on an outing and confesses his love and they live happily ever after or something.

The only thing is that a different scenario is trying to creep into this story. It’s really weird. It’s post-Papillon defeat, and Adrien is twenty-four (Luka is twenty-six). He’s been in kind of rough shape the past few years since his father was arrested and he lost his family and home and fortune. He couldn’t finish university, and he’s been travelling around, trying to find work and make a life for himself. He ends up back in Paris, broke, and auditions for a band because he happened to see a flyer advertising for a new lead vocalist. It just so happens that it’s Luka’s band, and Luka ends up finding out about Adrien’s situation and taking him in and feeding him...but that scenario is just more Luka taking care of Adrien, and that’s not what I wanted to write. XD It also feels like multiple chapters, and I don’t want to go there. Oh, well. We’ll see what happens.

Adrien Trapped in AU-Land: (Adrienette, canon universe featuring AUs) My idea is based off of a writing prompt submitted by @graaythekwami on the @miraculousfanworks Discord server: AU where all the characters wake up in a different AU every chapter, fully remembering what happened in the last AU. My idea is for Chat Noir to get hit by an akuma (probably named Escapist or something equally dumb ^.^) who traps Adrien in a series of alternate realities (AUs) until he realizes his feelings for Marinette and manages to break free.

L’Amour de Loin: (Lukadrien, post-Papillon defeat, Félix wingman) I did a sneak peek for this here. This was one of the two “Winter Lukadrien Pieces” mentioned on my last status update. Adrien is living in London with his aunt and cousin three years after Papillon’s defeat and arrest. He’s in rough shape and hasn’t kept in touch with anyone from Paris. One day, he gets a text from Luka out of the blue, and they rekindle their friendship. Félix acts as wingman to ensure that it turns into something more.

Adrienette Hanahaki: Awhile ago I did an ask game about a trope I’d like to try writing, and the one I came up with was Adrien with Hanahaki disease (The one where you start coughing up flower petals due to unrequited love making flowers grow inside your lungs). I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve decided I’d like to actually write this story. My basic outline is: Adrien starts showing symptoms, and Gabriel badgers him about whom he’s in love with, and Adrien just blurts out, “Marinette!” And Gabriel threatens Marinette into dating Adrien, and they start fake dating but then fall in love.

Happenstance and Magic: Marichat May 2019. Marinette and Chat Noir adopt kittens together, and Adrien tries to get Marinette to see that he’s not perfect but still a worthwhile person deserving of her love.

I’ve been thinking about this one, and I think I’m going to cut the number of prompts I actually use. Once I’m done with the other stories, I want to sit down and make a more thorough outline of what I want the story to be and which prompts I’m going to use to get me there.

The Seduction of Adrien Agreste: This is part of the Springtime in Wonderland (Daisy/Jabberwocky) series. It deals with Luka and Adrien experimenting with physical intimacy to see if they can reach a compromise where Luka and (asexual) Adrien are both comfortable and have their needs met.

Things Currently on the Backburner:

The Rejects Club: Predominantly Marichat with Adrienette. Chat Noir and Marinette unexpectedly grow very close very fast as they open up to one another after Marinette overhears Adrien seemingly dismissing her as a romantic prospect. Identity shenanigans at farcical levels ensue.

I can’t really deal with Rejects right now. I’m feeling super overwhelmed by basic life stuff, so I don’t really have the mental or emotional energy to put into a story where I don’t know how many more chapters there will be until the end. I’m thinking that what I have planned will take at least another one or two hundred thousand words. This thing is just so massive, and I’m not in good enough mental heath to deal with it right now.

Springtime in Wonderland: Yeah, no. See the paragraph directly above. This is another one that’s going to take another couple hundred thousand words to complete, and I just don’t have the stamina in me right now. I’d rather focus on smaller projects that actually feel attainable. I’m trying not to burn myself out.

And that’s it for the moment. I’m sure I’ll come up with plenty of other stuff between now and the next time I do a status update post, but is there anything that you’re particularly interested in? Let me know what you’re thinking.

Thoughts? Feelings? Suggestions? Opinions? ^.^

#Adrinette #Adrienette #Marichat #Lukadrien #Lukadrigaminette #Alyadrino #Lady Noir #Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Chat Noir #Ladybug #Luka Couffaine #Status Update #Mikau's WIP

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mattdillon-enthusiast · 3 years ago

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i have no idea how to use tumble at all, i literally use it to look at the outsiders incorrect quotes but uh i thought i’d post a fanfic i wrote for my oc, arabella and dallas so enjoy.

Title: Death Pact - Dallas Winston One Shot

Warnings: Death, Suicide and Mentions Of Abuse

Word Count: 2,189

Everything went in slow motion as Dallas raised his unloaded heater, an idiot that kid was, they don’t know he’s bluffing. As the bullets from the surrounding police officers made their impact, memories of the years spent by Dallas’ side flashed before my very eyes, years of love, adoration, thrills, adventures and memories all gone within the blink of an eye.

“Yeah, you, Johnny and Ponyboy are all seen as hero’s now” I spoke, walking over to sit on the side of his hospital bed looking over at Tim for a moment before looking back at Dallas. Dallas looked annoyed hearing himself being called a hero, he muttered a few incoherent things under his breath, most likely curses on how he was anything but a hero.

“Any word on when they are going to let you out?” Tim asked, thinking of tonight being the rumble, meaning he needed any man he could get his hands on. Dallas was surely one of the best he’d be able to get.

Dallas sighed, shaking his head as he lowered his gaze. He ran a hand through his hair, knowing this would disappoint Tim and I, just in different ways. “Suck’s about the rumble, Man.”

Dallas and I both cared about Johnny a lot, Dallas more than me by a long shot. We saw so much of ourselves in him, but definitely more Dallas. I could only hope that Johnny would be okay… but hope wasn’t enough.

Merely a week ago, we were helping Johnny and Ponyboy go on the run. Couldn’t believe Johnny had actually done it at first, seeing the two walk into Dallas and I’s room at Buck’s Pony soaking wet, freezing I offered him one of Buck’s shirts we had laying around, Dallas gave him his brown jacket.

I checked one of our drawers for some cash, counted fifty and Dallas explained how to get to a hideout location. I handed the money to Johnny, “Should be enough for you to buy a week’s supply of food, when you get there you need to get food before your descriptions are put in the paper.”

Dallas got up from his potion on the bed and went to get his gun, his loaded one. He handed that to Johnny as well. “Don’t point it at me for Pete’s sake Johnny, it’s loaded!”

“Pony, do Darry and Sodapop know about this?” Dally asked as he took a seat on the bed again, pulling out a cancer stick and match using his Christoper to light it. He took a drag as Pony shook his head, “I’m not itching to be the one to tell them and get my head kicked in”

“Don’t tell them then” Ponyboy replied settling with the new shirt and jacket on.

That night neither Dallas nor I got much sleep, we laid in bed thinking, hoping that Johnny and Pony would be okay. We had sworn ourselves to secrecy, no one would know that night had happened the way it did other than the four of us.

Just over two months before that night, Dallas went to prison. “Yeah well, I don’t want to see him serving a sentence longer than a couple of days,” Dallas told me. We had been discussing him taking the blame for busting out the windows of the local high school, everyone knew Two-Bit had been the one to do it.

“But Dal, you know they aren’t going to give you a slap on the wrist this time around” I sighed.

“I can handle it, been in and out since I was ten, you know that Bella,” Dallas said, as he emptied his pockets, putting his heater in one of his drawers. “Plus, sounds like something they’d think I’d do. I’ll get hauled in soon enough, it’s easier to just turn myself in”

I walked over to him, putting my arms around his waist holding him. I always hated when he went to jail, normally I could find my own entertainment between visits but it was never the same without him. I always missed him. “You know the gang will keep you company if need be, Tim is always open to you spend the night at his.” He told me.

“Yeah, Yeah. I’ll miss you though” I replied as he turned to put his arms around me.

I know most wouldn’t look at Dallas and think ‘that man is romantic’, but he sure could be sometimes, I originally never thought he’d be one to plan dates months in advance. Sure took me by surprise the first time he put so much dedication into a night out. We were back in Tulsa for about six months at that point, he took me out for dinner at the Dingo which was common so I thought it be an average night out. We didn’t stay for milkshakes after which was odd because milkshakes were always how we ended the night. We headed out to Buck’s car which we had borrowed for the night and he took me on a drive.

Listening to Elvis on the radio as we drove around Tulsa, we spent the drive singing along to the radio, talking or just enjoying the moment until we pulled up at one of the nearby lakes, there was a picnic blanket set out with a basket. He’d paid one of the guys to set this up while we had gone to dinner. There were beers, strawberries, whipped cream and chocolate. God this man had my heart. The night was spent there before we went swimming which started out innocently enough, can’t say it ended that way.

I of course am Dallas’ partner in crime, I was a relatively well-behaved kid until Dallas and I moved to New York. We got ourselves into so much trouble, we were involved in a gang, got into gang fights often, robbed stores, and even got wrapped up in a murder cover-up.

“Bella, stay right there,” Dallas said, as he peaked out of an alleyway. We had stolen dinner from a gas station, we’d had to spend the last of our winnings from our latest gambling on rent, after a day and a half of not eating we had to result to stealing. The police had been called, stupidly enough, all we stole were chips and soda, quite the overreaction if you ask me. We took some alleyways on our way back, he was just checking for cop cars.

“Shit…” Dallas muttered. He turned back to me, “Back this way, we have to walk down to the next alleyway”

Before we even had the chance to move, we heard someone yell in our direction. There were two police officers calling out to us and walking in our direction. Dallas and I looked at each other for only a split second before we bolted down the alleyway. The dark alleyway echoed with our laughter as we did.

The officers were so caught off guard that they hadn’t reacted nearly as fast, so they trailed further behind them. The alley ahead of us split off into three directions, we had to think fast and had to split up. I went for the alley that would take me closer to our apartment while he took the one that would cause him to have to run around almost an entire block. We exchanged a glance that could only be interrupted as ‘be safe’.

I hadn’t been followed, both officers trailed Dallas allowing me to get back without any troubles. I couldn’t touch my food once I got back, not till I knew that he was okay. I sat on our mattress on the floor which my eyes on the door. Every apartment we owned was a room with a bathroom attached, never anything special we couldn’t afford anything bigger.

For an hour I waited for him to return, when he did he had a cut just above his eyebrow, bleeding down his face and a massive grin on his face. He almost gave me a heart attack, I think I lost years of natural life from that experience and many more similar.

There were so many memories of New York, we spent three years there and they were the best years of my life by far. From ages 13 to 16, I spent every day and night filled with the thrills of running away from home, gangs and falling madly in love with Dallas Winston.

I remember the night Dallas and I admitted being in love with one another. This was about a month into moving to New York, we had known each other for about seven months at this point. Dallas and I moved to New York two months after my mother’s death, we weren’t very close at that point and the only reason why I ran away was because I had a fight with my father, he pulled a gun on me. I turned to Dallas, knowing that I couldn’t hide with the Curtis’ they were too close with my father. He wanted to flee his own father, so that’s how we ended up in New York.

This particular night we had been out with friends, on our walk home it had started to rain so by the time we ended up soaked. We collapsed on the floor, staring up at the ceiling laughing about something I had said before we entered the room which really isn’t important to the moment. Dallas turned his head to face me, using his hand he turned me to face him.

“I don’t think I can hide this from you any longer, Arabella.” He said, we stared into each other’s eyes and for the first time I saw him nervous. “I love you, Bella.”

I almost couldn’t believe it. Dallas admitting his love for me, he returned the feelings that I had been so unsure of. “I love you too, Dally”

We laid there as moments passed, continuing the staring as the grins grew on our faces. He was the one to break the silence, the words that would impact the ending of the situation I currently find myself in.

“I propose… a death pact. I know right now I want to spend my time with nobody other than you and I never want you to be with anyone else.” Dallas said. He’d mentioned how the idea of marriage made him sick.

If this was anyone else, I would have laughed in their face and told them they were crazy. But.. I was also not in the best state of mind. Dallas was the only person keeping me here, after my mother’s death and my father becoming the way he was my only stability was him and if he was to go, I’d want to follow. “Let’s do it”

“If you die, I’ll kill myself... If I die… you do the same” Dallas said drawing out the only real rule.

Bringing me back to now, after witnessing Johnny’s death at the hospital after the rumble Dallas broke. Johnny was gone, and everything came crumbling down for him. He ran out before I could stop him leaving Pony and I to walk back to the Curtis’ to share the awful news. We had been back for only a few minutes before Dallas called, and once Darry told us we bolted from the park. I ran as fast as my feet would carry me.

“Dallas!” I yelled seeing him running, he stopped in his tracks under a street lamp. I swear I saw him look at me as he raised his unloaded heater. A fool, that’s what my love was, a blasted fool. The officers didn’t know his bluff, shots fired and Dallas fell. He was gone before we could even make it to him.

Darry was yelling, something about Dallas just being a kid. Most couldn’t control the tears that raised in their eyes or the sobs that left their mouths as we neared his body. Every memory with Dallas from this moment backwards went through my mind in a flash. Suddenly Dallas’ voice filled my head, ‘If you die, I’ll kill myself... If I die… you do the same’’. I had to honour the pact.

Tears fell down my cheeks and I choked out sobs. I turned to Darry and then to Pony, “I’m so sorry.. But I promised Dallas” I said.

I grabbed Dallas’ heater took a few steps forwards, before raising the heater at the nearest officer. It didn’t hurt when I was shot, it felt like I’d had a pebble thrown at me but I assume that was just because of the shock. I fell to the ground and the last thing I heard was Pony’s voice.

“Not Bella too”

#the outsiders #dallas winston #dally winston #dallas winston fanfic #the outsiders fanfiction

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spnfanficpond · 4 years ago

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Pond Diving - Imagineteamfreewill

Welcome to today’s Pond Diving Spotlight! We hope that you enjoy this little insight to our members and perhaps even find some useful tips for your own writing. Happy reading!

Want to volunteer, send us an ask! We’re looking forward to learning more about all of you! Not sure what PD is, you can learn more here.

“Don’t Be Koi About It” - All About You

Name: Meg

Age: 20s

Location: United States

URL: @imagineteamfreewill

Why did you choose your URL: I first started out structuring my stories as imagines, and the “Team Free Will” part was pretty obvious.

What inspired you to become a writer: Reading Supernatural fanfiction inspired me to get back into writing, but I’ve always enjoyed it. My mom likes to talk about how when I was in Kindergarten, I drew a picture about how I wanted to be an author and now I write in my free time.

How long have you been writing: According to tumblr, I’ve been writing fanfiction since 2014, but I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember.

What do you do when you are not writing i.e. Job/Hobbies etc? I’m a music teacher, so I sing and play piano, and I’ve played a bit of cello and tenor saxophone as well. I love movies, baking, sleeping, and a few video games.

How long have you been in the SPN Fandom? I joined sometime around Season 8 or 9, I think. I don’t really remember!

Are you in any other fandoms and do you write for them? I really enjoy Marvel and I’ve read a lot of Marvel fics, but I don’t write for them. I like a lot of TV shows (New Girl, Parks and Rec, The Good Place, Outlander, etc), but I wouldn’t consider myself part of the fandom.

Do you do any writing outside of fanfiction? If so, tell us about it? I love to write poetry. I had a poetry blog at truenorth-ink a while ago, but I haven’t updated it recently at all. Most of my poems aren’t published or posted anywhere.

Favorite published author: I love some of the early series by Rick Riordan and I also really enjoy poetry by Nikita Gill and Atticus. Lately, I've really been getting into Leigh Bardugo's books.

Have you ever read a book that made an impact on your life? Which one and why?: I think "East" by Edith Pattou really affected me! I read it when I was in 6th-8th grade and I think about it often. I think it's something that really stuck with me and got me interested in fantasy books so much. I read it at least once a year.

Favorite genre of fanfic (smut, angst, fluff, crack, rpf, etc): I love angsty stuff, and most of the time I prefer it when it has some fluff mixed in. Straight fluff is often hard for me to read because I need something that’s more realistic for my own life and point of view. I also really like whump, but that can be a lot sometimes so it depends on my mood.

Favorite piece of your own writing: I don’t know if I have a favorite, but I loved writing Back to the Start (my mermaid series) and The Switch (a canon-divergent apocalyptic Reader x Sam series). Right now, I'm really enjoying my Consort series (a Goddess!Reader x Dean series). Creating my own rules in my own little universes is one of my favorite things to do, especially since I can’t always do whatever I want in real life.

Most underrated fic you have written: Empire. I loved getting to write Boyking!Sam because it was so different from my normal Sam stories and I did a lot of research for it. I’m pretty proud that the story never got too bloody or gory, too, so if you want some Boyking!Sam that’s not drenched in blood (for lack of a better term), I’m your girl!

Story of yours that you’d most like to see turned into a movie/tv show: Probably Back to the Start or The Switch. I think those two series would be amazing to see with J2, the rest of the cast/characters I included, and special effects! There’s so much I’d want to explore with both of them that I didn’t put into the series.

Favorite Tumblr Writer(s): @luci-in-trenchcoats, @sunlightdances, @supernaturalfreewill, @lipstickandwhiskey, @smol-and-grumpy, @percywinchester27, and @kaz2y5-imagines

Favorite fic from another writer: I don’t think I could pick just one, but I’ve read all of @sunlightdances Dean fics multiple times. Her works got me through some pretty sucky times in my life and I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of her writing! I’ve also been reading her Bucky fics recently and it’s made me love Marvel fics even more than before!

Favorite character to write: Sam Winchester

Favorite Pairing to write: Reader x Sam (Reader x Dean is a close second)

Least favorite character to write (and why): I don’t like to write for Crowley or Gabriel. Gadreel is hard for me even though I can do it, but I don’t understand Crowley or Gabriel’s personalities at all because they’re literally so far away from mine.

Do you have anyone you consider a mentor? No, although @lipstickandwhiskey and @kaz2y5-imagines really encouraged me in my writing!

Do you have any aspirations involving your writing? I would love to write a non-Supernatural work of fiction to publish, but that’s a long way off.

How many work-in-progress stories do you have: Oh Lord, I have so many! I have at least four series and two one shots in the works right now. I've also got over 100 one shots/series plotlines written out in the notes on my phone and various Google Docs.

What are you currently working on? I’m currently working on a Cinderella series, my Underworld series, my Puer Rex series, my Consort series, an Author!Sam fic, and an Author!Dean fic. I also write stories for my Words series now and again.

“Pond Diving” - All About The Writing

What/who has had the biggest influence on your writing? Reading other people’s work. The intense storylines of @luci-in-trenchcoats ’s fics have gotten me to be more bold with my writing and the emotions and description in @supernaturalfreewill’s works have inspired me to let my work have more feeling.

Best writing advice you've been given: Not necessarily writing advice, but I was once told that anything worth doing is worth doing at least a little bit every day. Think about it—if you wrote even just five minutes a day, how much better will you get over the course of a month? A year?

Biggest obstacle you’ve faced in your writing: Repetition of words and commas. So many commas and so many uses of the same word over and over again. It’s a hard balance between using the word and using synonyms without sounding like I’m sitting there googling synonyms for “said”. I also tend to spend a lot of time on things that I think are super important but aren’t really important in the long run. I’m wordy as hell and my writing would be dull if I didn’t edit it as thoroughly as I do.

What aspects of writing do you find difficult when you write fanfiction? A lot of times I have these ideas that I think would make a great series but I don’t think through them, so planning out the plot of a series (or even a standalone fic) beforehand is something I struggle with.

Is there anything you want to write but are afraid to (and why): I would love to write more fics that have the characters dealing with severe mental disorders or that take place in a mental hospital, but I’m afraid that I’ll portray something wrong and solidify harmful stereotypes about what it’s like to deal with those things.

What inspires/motivates you to write: Honestly, just wanting to write things that I enjoy. Sometimes I get sick of reading other peoples’ stuff since it’s not exactly what I want, so I just write my own!

How do you deal with self doubt: Understand that sometimes it happens. You’ll doubt yourself—everybody does. If I’m doubting myself or my writing, I’ll take a break until I remember why I write. Then I’ll remember that yeah, writing for an audience is fun, but I write because I have cool ideas I want to explore, not because I need the attention or love of strangers. Lastly, I’ll reread my old fics, especially the ones I love, and then I’ll go back and edit old fics that I haven’t looked at in a while. That way I can see how I’ve improved and I don’t feel so terrible anymore! Reading my own fics is a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine, and I’ll read through my masterlists every once a while just to remind myself of the things I’ve loved, where I’ve been, and where I’m going.

How do you deal with writer's block: Like I said, I reread old fics and edit old fics that I haven’t looked at in a while. Seeing the things I’ve done before always helps to focus me. I’ll also read other people’s stuff or talk about headcanons with some friends to try and find some inspiration.

Do you plan/outline your story before you start: Lately I have been, but only because my periods of intense inspiration and productivity are getting farther and farther apart because of my job. I’ve found planning it out to be more and more helpful, especially for my series. A lot of times if I get a great idea, I’ll outline the whole plot or any significant details I want to put in that one shot/series so that I can come back to it whenever I have the time or I’m inspired for it again.

Do you have any weird writing habits: I write best in places that are unfamiliar to me or in places/times where I shouldn’t be writing. Class? Writing. Airport terminal? Writing. 4am when I have to be up at 6? Writing.

Have you ever received hateful comments on your fic and how do you deal with it? Not that I remember! I feel like there’s probably been one or two over the years, but I probably just got upset about it with my friends for a while and then got over it.

Conversely: what’s been some of your favorite feedback on your fanfic? A long time ago, when I was writing Back to the Start, I had one person who sent me asks for every single series update. I screenshotted them and saved them on my laptop. There’s one particular one where they say that they’re happier because of my writing and honestly, isn’t that what we all strive for? That people’s lives are better because of our stories? I’ve also had some pretty great friends recently who’ve made it a point to reblog and send asks/messages on all my works, which has been so meaningful that I never replied to the asks. They’re sitting in my inbox and I go through and reread them sometimes when I’m feeling down.

If you could give one piece of advice to a new and/or struggling writer, what would it be? Write down everything. If you come up with an amazing piece of dialogue, even if it’s just one sentence or one person talking, or if you come up with something you’d think would be a great title… WRITE IT DOWN. It doesn’t matter if it fits into whatever you’re currently writing or not, it’ll come in handy! I don’t know how many times I’ve gone through my idea list and found really obscure lines/titles/inspiration that didn’t make sense when I wrote them down, but are now exactly what I need to finish a fic. Even if you don’t end up using it, jotting down your ideas is still writing, and that’s good practice!

#pond diving #spnfanficpond

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marksinn · 3 years ago

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Passion Project: Inspiration

I don’t think I’m starting at the beginning with this post. Keep your eyes peeled for later posts that explain what I’m doing and why.

After a month of thinking about, sketching and painting designs, I have finally done something. Essentially, recently watching two films has pushed me into action, and a part of me is ashamed to admit it. There isn’t a word count or any typesetting to curtail my thoughts here, so strap in.

When I created this brief I figured I’d draw a million wee skateboards, colour a few of them in, then fling my favourites into Adobe illustrator and make them look good. From there I would take the 5 best up to the skatepark and ask some of the patrons there which designs stood out to them. Next, I would adapt the three front-runners and create sweet PhotoShop mockups that would show what my designs would look like as skateboards. If I had the time, inclination or money by the end of the project, I would have the design laid onto a real skateboard (I’ve been looking to buy a new one for some time) and then be proud of myself.

So I’ve drawn some wee skateboards. Then I started upscaling the designs onto the floorboards of my loft:

This was an exercise to let me see how small things need to be adapted to be blown up. Skateboards can have any level of detail that you like on them, I hadn’t considered this until I was trying to draw a semi-perfect triangle for the traffic cone, or until I was using chalk to recreate four cubes. It’s also been fun to work with different media on chipboard - I have learned that most kinds of pencil, paint, chalk and charcoal do not like being used on chipboard. Decorating paint, however, has no such issues. Thanks, Dulux!

And so, with a few of these under my belt, I decided to try some digital designs. So I jumped into Illustrator and totally ignored my sketchbook, coming up with three designs that were all inspired by the day I had just had. The top design, I’ll focus on last, for reasons that will become apparent (unless you follow me on Instagram, where you’ll already know that it’s an absolute hit, with over 19 likes already!). I was told by a guy at the skatepark that he likes decks with very basic designs, just a colour or two, nothing overly detailed. Another skater told me that he often likes the basic wood background with one small emblem or sticker just beside the wheels.

The duo-tone design felt nice, I’m usually one for over-complicating things. I definitely have an attitude of “If there’s more in it, there’s a greater chance someone will find something they like”. The first colour choice put my girlfriend in the mind of a hand-bag she had seen photographed in the arms of Carrie Fisher - it was designed to look like a Prozac pill. So I changed the colours up, and added the separating black lines and textures to give it some subtle character. I then went full meta with the Minimal design. And, if I’m being honest, I’m incredibly happy with how it looks like a wee character. Expect to see that making a comeback in the very near future. But the top design is what really got me going.

I’ve recently been watching...

...Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, and have been loving Miles Morales’ multiple hobbies of graffiti, mixing beats and saving his neighbourhood from a variety of dangers.

I then went to the cinema to see In The Heights, telling the tale of the Latin community during a blackout in North Manhattan. I found myself wrapped up in the romance, tribulations and music of the cast, and was felt oddly proud of Lin Manuel Miranda - who wrote this as a stage-musical while he was in college, had a modicum of success with it, then went on to create Hamilton, one of the most important musicals of our time. With the success of that particular show taking the entire world by storm, he was given the opportunity to make his old, relatively only semi-popular play into a blockbuster film. You can’t help but be inspired by someone like that.

I often find towards the end of a film I’m inspired by the characters’ journeys: be that from zero to hero, from lonely to loved or from rags to riches. Then I walk out and carry on with my normal life doing normal things. And as the hero of the story’s dreams all came true in the closing minutes (sorry for the spoiler, but it’s a musical, they rarely end in despair), a thought floated across my mind:

I’m utterly sick of being inspired

Now, to my credit, I did figure out in the car home that ‘tired’ would be a far more fitting and rhythmic word to use in this sentence, but this was a mentality that I found resonated really strongly with me. I’m very good at being inspired, I think most people are. We hear stories of people starting their own business, achieving some sporting brilliance or overcoming a personal hurdle and we say “Wow, isn’t that inspiring?” or

“It really inspires you to go out and make a difference!” or

“They are such an inspirational speaker!”

Then we go off about our day, not acting on the inspiration, and, for the most part, remaining uninspired. So I decided to act.

I did some very quick research (/acquiring of images of graffiti) in order to get the right shapes and textures to create a spray paint effect in Illustrator. I did some very quick research (/confirming the colours) of South American flags, taking the blue and red used in flags of the home nations of Miles Morales from Spider-Man and Usnavi from In The Heights. And I created the top design.

YES! I had been inspired and I had drawn a wee picture to show that - I had acted on my inspirations!

Then I looked to my left and spotted three, blank skate decks that I had bought on a whim from Re:Ply (a wonderful wee company who do a great deal of charity work supplying boards to people who need them, selling boards to people who can afford them, and for a very reasonable fee, providing unusable decks to people who want to use them for artistic purposes). I realised I hadn’t acted on my inspiration, I had just drawn a few pictures of skateboards with the eventual aim of PhotoShopping them onto other pictures of skateboards.

So I took myself...

... into the city centre with a shoddily prepared speech: “I’m looking for some cheap, small cans of spray paint. I’ve no idea what I’m doing, or if I’ll be good at it, so don’t want to invest too much into this.” Hiding behind this self-deprecating shield I barged into multiple art-, pound- and model-shops and pleaded with the staff to help a young idiot out. Amazingly, a very kind shop assistant pointed me in the direction of Fat Buddha, a clothes shop I’d always ignored as it seemed a bit to “...” for me. I don’t know what it seemed, but I knew it wasn't my kind of shop. Happy to prove me wrong, the guys in there were super helpful and they helped me buy my first cans of spray paint.

Now I’d spent money...

... and as a skinflint, that meant I had to get use out of my purchases. I had tricked myself into being inspired. Inspiration led me to the drawing, inspiration had led me to buy decks and the paint, now inspiration had to make me spray paint.

I’ll stop yammering on now. Essentially, I had planned on creating some analogue designs then digitising them (I’m guessing I should do a post on my brief, yeah? Might just upload the PDF to save me talking more), but then I found that I was doing the complete opposite. Genuinely accidentally. I had played with a few typefaces from various websites to get fonts that represented the ideas I wanted. The top one was semi-stolen (I can’t use the word ‘inspired’ any more in this post) from the end credits of In The Heights. The larger font is something of a nod to inspirational quotes you see on Facebook or on glittery frames in B&M.

I printed those out and cut them into stencils (very impressed that my digital boards have been drawn to a workable scale, thanks Maths). And after putting down a tack-layer (GRAFFITI JARGON (I think)) I sprayed the whole lot in blue.

Next, I tried to get a little fancy. Using cardboard blockers to create straight lines I added stars* (borrowed from the Puerto Rican flag) and made the bottom stripes vaguely reminiscent of America’s Old Glory.

I peeled the lettering off, and I’d done it. I may have to explain the overtly-negative inspirational quote to people, but to me it’s a clear sign that there’s no point in just being inspired, and that’s all I wanted.

A weight I didn’t know I was carrying was lifted from my shoulders. The plan was to possibly end up with a self-designed skateboard. And now I have one.

*Yes, I know they’re crosses.

#pp_hncgd1 #allhandsondecks #skateboard

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englandsgray · 4 years ago

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Sherlolly Self-Interviews 2020

Well hi 👋

Ignoring the internal image of Gilderoy Lockheart smiling smugly while flashbulbs pop and saying ‘In my autobiography, Magical Me...’ 🙈😆 I shall take the opportunity of this lovely event to introduce myself as a writer of Sherlolly fanfiction on AO3...

I am English and somewhere over 30. I watched the show as it aired, and lost my heart as quickly to Molly Hooper as to Sherlock Holmes. The kiss is British television history. Series 4 is my favourite. Moriarty on the beach is life. The Holmes brothers break my heart every time.

I am extremely lucky to have been provided some questions to answer here by @ohaine and @mybrainrots - huge, huge love and thanks to these two lovelies, and not just for this. I admire you both so much as writers, and your support means the world to me ❤️ Thanks too, to @sherlollyappreciationweek!

Where did you begin to write, and have you written for other fandoms? I wrote my first fanfic when I was eleven years old - a 100 page ramble about The Monkees. Oh yes. Then in 2018, I fell for the characters of the Disney Pixar film Cars and began writing and publishing. So far so random! Writing in this fandom sprang from binge-watching all four series of Sherlock during lockdown. I remembered reading Louise Brealey talking about being disappointed Molly didn’t get chance to ‘roundly kick Sherlock’s arse’ and agreeing with her wholeheartedly. That, over a few weeks, turned into my first fic - Who You Really Are.

You’re a recent (and welcome!) arrival to the Sherlolly ship, and I was wondering if writing in an established, less active than it used to be fandom has been a challenge? Thank you, firstly. My experience of this fandom has been incredibly positive - the sense of welcome has been wonderful. I will admit I was terrified posting the first fic - there are hundreds of times more stories posted daily in the Sherlock fandom as in the one I had some experience of. But I needn’t have worried, it’s been a blast. I will also admit, that it’s no small thing to be surrounded by such brilliant writing and the long-standing passion which goes with it. But I find that inspiring in itself, and I’m very glad to be here - how supportive the fandom are makes me feel like I always have been!

What’s your favourite place and way to write? My aesthetic is Lin-Manuel Miranda in his in-law’s laundry room 🤣 I wrote my first ten-thousand words on the notes app on my phone before my other half told me to stop being ridiculous! I switch between the laptop, my phone and longhand (I’m a sucker for a nice notepad and a Uni-Ball Eye) and, more often than not, not sat up properly at a table.

Since you’ve (done something I’ve never managed successfully and) written a novella length fic... how did you organise/keep track of all the details and where you wanted the story to go? Did you outline/plot in advance? First of all - I would love to see a novella length fic from you @mybrainrots! The final scene of Who You Really Are came to me very early on and I knew I wanted the fic to fit within TFP - a lot of it takes place in the timeframe of the final montage. At first, it was going to be much more about Sherlock’s relationship with the ideas of sentiment and love (the phrase ‘I’m not sentimental about you, I love you,’ haunted me for a while) and I spent some time researching the psychology and playing with scenes from throughout the series - one of my favourites I didn’t go on to use was inspired by the final scene of THoB. Using scenes from the canon gave an automatic structure, and I was always aiming for the final one I wrote early on - the two of them on the beach (everything is about the beach, with me!) As I went along and started, inevitably, to slow down, I mapped out the chapters with a short note of what I wanted to be in each, then would add notes or phrases as they came to me - often emailed from my phone! I had to force myself through a tricky section set in Baker Street at one point, but it came together in the end. I did plot The Pathologist’s Skeletons on paper first, as I found with a casefic which remains a WIP, that I can get confused and lose focus when it comes to details and how to reveal them in a way which stays paced and interesting. I’ll certainly do that from now on with longer stories and cases. How did you keep up enthusiasm for the work? I want to write an original novel, so I am forcing myself to work through the knotty bits and blocks as a learning experience. Not everything is destined to be finished or finessed, of course, but I’m finding this process is building my confidence that I can overcome problems and slow periods. I also find I know when I need some external inspiration - some of my favourite scenes have come to me while out walking the dog or sitting on the beach. I’ve also been inspired by books or other series or things going on in the world, as we all are, and sometimes that’s pushed me on. Plus, of course, I’m a newbie - I’m very much in the honeymoon period of my writing, even though I’ve loved Sherlock for ten years! (Ten years! Bonkers.)

You’ve got a knack for writing Sherlock’s thoughts and capturing his voice. That said, which character do you find easiest to write? Which is the hardest? Thank you so much. I absolutely love writing Sherlock and Mycroft, and I’m sure that’s because they suit my somewhat over-the-top writing style! I find Molly and her POV really difficult. I want the scenes I write from her perspective to sound completely different to Sherlock, but that means writing in a style which doesn’t come as naturally to me. I’m a long way off happy with that at the moment, but I’m enjoying the challenge.

Is there a scene or character that specifically inspired you to start writing Sherlolly? The whole of TFP, but especially from the moment Sherlock arrives at Musgrave onwards. I am desperate to see what a Sherlock Holmes who has been reacquainted with his own heart would look like. I find his emotionality in those final scenes hugely compelling (Mycroft’s office is one of my favourite moments from across all four series) and, as I have always believed in him and Molly, I practically jumped up back in May after watching it and said ‘right, where’s my notebook?!’.

There’s a lovely peaceful, quiet feeling to your fic ‘We’re All Right At The Moment’. Can you tell us what inspired it and if you’ve thought of doing the backstory that goes with it? Thank you! Like everyone, I would go back to January of this year and start again in a heartbeat, but I am hugely fortunate to be able to say that I have a lot to be grateful to the UK lockdowns for. I might never have begun writing in this fandom otherwise, for one, and I have had a brilliant time so far and met some lovely people. Honestly, I don’t feel able to do any sort of justice in my writing to what has happened in the world in any broader sense than drawing on my own experiences of staying at home and enjoying my family. This particular super-short fic sees Molly cutting Sherlock’s hair at home in Baker Street. I wrote it in the evening after I had cut my other half’s hair and had been reminding myself that despite how horribly worried I was - and still am - about everything, we were all right in that moment, and to focus on that as much as possible. I wanted to try to capture that, if for no reason other than to look back on this entire experience and remember something lovely, so I am so pleased to hear you felt the fic did that. It was only after I finished it and reread it, that I realised it is ambiguous as to whether Molly is worried about Sherlock contracting the virus, or whether she is remembering him being treated for it... As I say, I don’t think I could write more about these extraordinary circumstances - perhaps it’s just too close at the moment - so I don’t plan on extending it. But you know how it is, the plot bunnies hop where they will...

Do you have a Sherlolly music playlist? What are your top five favs from the list? Here’s a run down of (6 🙊) songs I have been getting emotional over in the last little while, leading my brain to assign their significance to my favourite couple...

Kissing You - Des’Ree - It’s so 90′s, it’s a bit cheesy, it’s oddly disturbing. It helped me write A Request, Made Properly, and that gave me an excuse to have Sherlock kiss Molly in the snow.

How Long Will I Love You? - Ellie Goulding - part of the playlist, but also in remembrance of a friend who passed away recently. Life is very short, love is forever.

High and Dry - Jamie Cullum - It’s made me emotional for a very long time. The original is my partner’s version of choice, this is mine.

Think About You - Delta Goodrem - Okay, this one isn’t emotional, and it’s not my usual vibe! Blame the zoom exercise class I do! But oh my goodness, it’s Molly. Bless her.

Blinded By Your Grace (P.T.2. F.T. MNEK) - Stormzy - One of the best ever, I reckon. Spent an awful lot of time thinking about angels and demons, grace and what it takes to save someone, while writing my latest - The Pathologist’s Skeletons. This has been in my head most of the (blimmin’) time!

Love Me Like You Do - Ellie Goulding - I didn’t know I was a fan of Ellie until I wrote this list... I don’t subscribe to the theory that the love Molly wants or that which Sherlock has to offer is any lesser because it isn’t ‘normal’ or expected. I don’t think romantic entanglement would come easy to either of them. But it’s still love and it would be beautiful.

Thank you so much for reading. Thanks and love to @ohaine and @mybrainrots. And thank you @sherlollyappreciationweek for the event and for everything you do ❤️

Feel like I should sign off with a quote from the show...

“You’re not a puzzle-solver, you never have been. You’re a drama queen!” Dr John Watson (Moffat & Gatiss) 2014 😜

A fav fic of mine by @mybrainrots

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7563193

A fav fic of mine by @ohaine

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10562904

My stuff:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnglandsGray/works

#sherlolly #sherlollyselfinterview20 #sherlock #sherlockbbc #writing #fanfic #ao3 #ao3 author #read on ao3

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searchingwardrobes · 4 years ago

Text

Valentine Throwbacks: Day 5

This is another one that was written for the Valentine’s Day Prompts back in 2018. This was for Day One: Secret Admirer. I’m posting it last because it has a part two which I’ll post later.

I really wanted it to be Emma who is the secret admirer because all the fics I've read in this genre has Killian as the secret admirer. So I was going through the Chick-fil-A drive thru, mulling over how closed-off Emma could actually do that, and . . . well, this happened. I didn’t realize when I wrote this that the kind of drive thru at our Chick-fil-A was a prototype and not found anywhere else. Basically, instead of driving up to a window, there’s this open area where they just walk out and give you your food.

**Please note: I have made no attempts to hide that this story takes place at a Chick-fil-A. I have tagged it accordingly here and on Ao3. If you have a problem with Chick-fil-A, please just skip this story.**

Summary: Emma Swan is slightly embarrassed to admit that she sometimes goes through the Chick-fil-A drive thru twice a day. She's even more embarrassed to admit she's leaving anonymous notes for the owner-operator, Killian Jones.

Nominated for Best Captain Swan Modern AU One-Shot in the OUAT Fandom Awards 2018

Rated: G

Words: about 3k

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @let-it-raines @teamhook @bethacaciakay @xhookswenchx @tiganasummertree @shireness-says @stahlop @scientificapricot @welllpthisishappening @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @kday426 @ekr032-blog-blog @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl @profdanglaisstuff @carpedzem @ohmakemeahercules @branlovestowrite @superchocovian @sherlockwhovian @vvbooklady1256 @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @snidgetsafan @xsajx @itsfabianadocarmo @spartanguard @hookedonapirate

Emma Swan was not a people person. It was for this reason that the Chick-fil-A drive-thru wasn’t her sort of thing. You had to talk – face to face – with at least four people just to get your food. And they asked for your name at the beginning of the entire process. Then everyone afterwards actually used it, with a mega-watt smile on their faces. And Emma Swan never would understand the Southern phenomenon of tacking “Miss” on the front of a person’s first name. Miss Swan, she understood. Miss Emma? Not so much.

But she had to hand it to those cheery employees walking up and down the line with their i-Pads. They were efficient. Which was one of the reasons Emma put aside her anti-social ways on her way to work. No matter how much of a hurry she was in, she could count on Chick-fil-A. She could be in and out of that line in five minutes flat.

Then there was the coffee. Sustainably sourced by local farmers. Or something. There was a big poster about it in the lobby. All Emma knew was that it was damn good, especially for a fast food place. And then there were chickin-minis. She had Mary Margaret to blame for getting her hooked on those. Or more accurately, her four year old son Leo. Tiny nuggets wrapped in tiny fluffy biscuits. Where had those been all her life? It was her new favorite food. Okay, breakfast food. Grilled cheese and onion rings still held the one and two spot.

So she gladly put up with the bright smiles and the over-the-top hospitality for a decent breakfast a couple of times a week. Or three. Okay, four max.

But she was not going to be one of those people who had drunk the kool-aid and made odes to how wonderful Chick-fil-A was on You Tube. And then Mary Margaret had to go and introduce her to the sweet iced tea.

“You can’t re-locate to Georgia and not drink sweet tea,” she had argued with Emma while practically shoving the straw in her mouth.

“So what next, MM? I have to start monogramming my towels?”

But she had begrudgingly took a sip anyway, and there was no turning back. Then she discovered the lemonade, and the cookies and cream milk shake. Some days, she was hearing “It’s been a pleasure to serve you, Miss Emma” twice in twelve hours.

She was one “Eat Mor Chikin” cow from making a You Tube video while holding a Styrofoam cup with a red straw.

To make her obsession even more embarrassing, it led – albeit indirectly – to her being an actual- to-God secret admirer. Who left anonymous love notes. Seriously. What had she become?

Killian Jones, according to his name tag, was the owner-operator of Emma’s neighborhood Chick-fil-A. She had figured immediately that he wasn’t just a regular burger- er – chicken sandwich flipper because he was wearing slacks and a navy blue button down shirt – no tie. His chest hair must need plenty of breathing room because he always had at least the first five buttons of his shirt undone (not that she was counting or anything). The first morning they met, he hadn’t started out on the best foot, inadvertently insulting her food preferences.

When he handed Emma her food, Killian Jones had leaned over slightly to glance in her back seat, simultaneously handing her a coupon.

“We’re doing a special promotion today. Would your little one like a gift card for a free cone?”

His words sort of trailed off when he saw that the backseat was empty. Emma had barked out a wry laugh.

“Uh, there’s no kid back there. Sorry.”

“My apologies,” he muttered as he stood quickly, his face flaming and his hand lifting to rest behind his ear, “I just assumed. You ordered the chicken minis, and usually people get those for their kids . . . “

Normally, Emma would have been insulted, but he seemed so genuinely embarrassed, that she simply chuckled. “Well, I have been told that I have the appetite of a twelve year old.”

The smile that he gave her was lopsided and almost sinful. He arched a very expressive brow, and leaned towards her open window with a conspiratorial whisper. “I must admit, I rather fancy them myself. I mean, they’re chicken nuggets in little biscuits. What’s not to love?”

“I know, right? It’s revolutionary.”

They gazed at one another way longer than necessary, threatening to bring imbalance to the well-oiled drive thru machine. Killian blinked, as if suddenly remembering where he was, awkwardly cleared his throat, and then handed Emma her coffee.

“It’s been a pleasure to serve you. God bless.”

In a slight daze, Emma took the coffee, noting the brush of his fingers against hers like she was some fifteen year old with a crush. It wasn’t until she was driving away that his accent registered with hers. Instead of a southern drawl, it had been a lilting Irish accent.

Intriguing.

********************************************************

Later that day, Emma’s hand literally shook as she took the Styrofoam cup of lemonade from the drive thru. For a brief moment, she considered chickening out – pun completely intended – but then shook off her fear and resolutely snatched the envelope from the passenger seat of her Bug.

“Could you give this to your owner-operator?”

“Okay,” the girl server said with a smile and a nod as she took the note, “we always like to hear how we can better serve our customers. Is there anything I can do to make your experience here better?”

“Oh,no!” Emma said quickly, making a quick slashing motion with her hand. “It isn’t a complaint. Quite the opposite actually. Just . . . “ she nervously bit her lower lip, “don’t tell him my name or . . . anything. Okay?”

The girl gave a slightly different smile this time as she pocketed the note. “Sure thing, ma’am.”

Emma couldn’t tell if the smile was just relief or a kind of knowing. Maybe the girl thought it was Emma giving her boss her phone number. Maybe women were frequently passing notes to Killian Jones. She wouldn’t be surprised. Emma’s face flamed red as she drove away.

It wasn’t like it was that kind of note. All it said was, “You made a hectic morning bearable. Thank you.” For a company that emphasized customer service so much, it was really just a thumbs up for a job well done. Like a positive review on Amazon. Nothing more.

********************************************************

Killian Jones was there again when Emma stopped to get a quick breakfast. This time, he arched a knowing brow when her yellow Bug pulled up to the curb.

“Ah, Miss Emma Swan once again. Your chicken minis, m’lady, and I must say, a fine dining choice for a woman of mature tastes.”

He gave a mock bow as he passed the bag through the window, and Emma was mortified when a giggle made its way past her lips. He waggled his eyebrows at her, to which she rolled her eyes. Yet, he had remembered her.

She cleared her throat as she took the bag, and then asked him, “I was wondering about the accent. Isn’t it the wrong one?”

At first, he furrowed his brow. “The wrong one . . . oh! You mean, as in, why don’t I go around saying mornin’ ma’am, or ya’ll have a good day now?”

Emma giggled again at his horrible impression of a Southern accent and shook her head. “Yeah, that’s what I mean. Your accent is . . . Irish?”

“Aye. And if you’re wondering how I ended up in Atlanta, well, the short version is I came across the pond as a kid.”

Emma nodded. It was about all she was going to get. She was sitting in a drive thru with at least half a dozen other cars behind her. So she simply nodded, tilted her head in a way that was only slightly flirtatious and said, “I like it.”

*****************************************************

The rest of the day sucked, to put it bluntly. The scumbag she was staking out took hours to show up, she twisted her ankle chasing him down, and she never did get to eat lunch. So today was a cookies and cream milkshake type of day.

And today the note she asked the girl at the drive thru to pass along to Killian Jones said, “I’m glad you moved here. It’s a long way from Ireland, but . . . welcome home – I hope.”

******************************************************

“Is that required?”

On this particular morning, it was pretty cold outside, and Killian had kept his banter at a minimum as he handed Emma her order. So maybe she was grasping at straws for a little interaction. Or maybe it was a legitimate question.

“Is what required?” he asked, both eyebrows jumping slightly.

“God bless,” Emma clarified, “everyone here says it. Is it company policy or something?”

Killian shrugged, “Sort of. I mean, not officially. You can’t make someone use religious language, of course. But we’re encouraged to if it’s something we believe in.” He pulled the collection of necklaces he always wore around his neck free from his pea coat and scarf. He grasped a pendant shaped like a cross and waved it at Emma. “And I’m a good Irish Catholic boy.”

The smile he gave her belied his words, especially when his tongue darted out to swipe at his bottom lip. Emma cocked her head to the side and gave him a teasing smile.

“Not so sure you’re always a good boy.”

He leaned down, lowering his voice to a timbre that did something to Emma’s insides. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Emma rolled her eyes as he leaned back with a triumphant grin. Then his features became suddenly sincere.

“However, Swan, I do wish you every blessing. I mean that.”

**************************************************

The cold weather made it a “second cup of coffee in the afternoon” sort of day. But she had brought in a skip so easily she could have done it blind-folded, her little nephew Leo stopped by her office with a picture he drew of the two of them in preschool, and Mary Margaret insisted she come over that night for David’s famous chili.

And Killian Jones wished her every blessing.

On today’s note, Emma wrote, “You make me smile. That’s rare. Thank you. (Or should I say, God bless?)”

She had hesitated including that last line. After all, she didn’t want to give herself away. But was there any harm in dropping a hint or two? She shook her head, sealed the envelope, and passed it off to the girl who received all of her notes for Killian. Emma now knew her name – Holly.

And did Holly just wink when she took her note?

*************************************************

“Lovely as always, Miss Swan.”

Killian’s hand lingered as he passed Emma her coffee. She blinked and opened her mouth to say something, and –

Jumped a foot in the air when the SUV behind her honked. She and Killian both laughed, and he shuffled backwards, his face turning red. His smile was a broad one that dimpled both cheeks and crinkled the corners of his eyes.

That day, Emma’s note read, “I find myself looking forward to your smiles. You’ve got a great one, but you’ve probably heard that before. Anyway, just wanted to let you know it always brightens my day.”

**************************************************

Today it was raining, and yet the employees of Chick-fil-A were still there, bravely traversing the drive-thru line in ponchos, their i-Pads encased in water proof plastic. Killian stood huddled beneath the awning at the service door, in a thick navy blue raincoat. Raindrops had gathered on his eyelashes, making the blue of his eyes sparkle in the gray misty haze of the Georgia rain.

“Wow,” Emma quipped when he handed her the to-go bag, “this is dedication. And still telling me, it’s a pleasure to serve you.”

His eyes seemed to light up even more as he smiled at her. “For you, Swan, it is more than a pleasure.”

That day, her note read, “Your blue eyes make a rainy day a little brighter.”

It was the most blatantly flirtatious note she had left, but she no longer cared.

************************************************

“Your accent is the wrong one too, you know.”

Emma smiled broadly as she leaned against the open window of her Bug. Killian made no move to give her her food, swinging the bag idly in his hand. She shrugged.

“Yeah, I moved around a lot growing up. Minnesota. Portland. I moved here a few months ago. I had been living in Tallahassee, but my foster sister wanted me here to be close to family. There’s way more work here in bail bonds anyway.”

Killian nodded as he handed her the bag of chicken minis and her coffee. “Well, Swan, welcome home . . . I hope.”

He winked before turning his back to receive the next order. Emma’s jaw dropped, but she had the sense to ease out of the line and onto the highway.

Did he know? To test it out, her note to him that day read, “I’ve never really felt at home anywhere. This is getting close. You’ve helped make it feel that way.”

**************************************************

Emma was only half listening to Mary Margaret as she set the table in her and David’s eat-in kitchen. Their house was small, but quaint, and was in a great neighborhood. They had been willing to buy a smaller house rather than keep renting in the apartment complex, knowing the back yard and park down the street were better for Leo. It worked out for Emma too, as she spent way more time here than in her lonely one bedroom apartment.

Mary Margaret was lecturing Emma about something – probably about how she ought to be more social – but Emma’s mind was on Killian Jones. Had he gotten her latest note yet? Would he figure out who she was? If so, would he think she was a total stalker?

“ . . . so since you keep giving me excuses, I just decided to ask Killian over for dinner tonight.”

The name tore Emma immediately from her daydreaming. “I’m sorry? What did you say?”

Mary Margaret shook her head at Emma. “I said set one more place because I invited that guy I told you about over for dinner.”

Emma set down the stack of forks she had been laying at each place and waved both hands back and forth. “Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. You said his name was, what?”

Mary Margaret had been going on and on about her and David’s former neighbor at the apartments and how he would be perfect for Emma. But surely that couldn’t be the same Killian as her drive-thru Killian. Could it? Okay, so Killian wasn’t exactly a common name . . .

“Killian Jones,” Mary Margaret answered with an exasperated sigh.

Emma shook her head rapidly. “Killian Jones? What . . . what does he do for a living?”

Mary Margaret grabbed the forks Emma had abandoned. “He’s the owner-operator of the Chick-fil-A near here. I was going to introduce you the day you went with me and Leo, but Killian was at some training thing at corporate.”

Emma grabbed the back of a chair as the room started to spin. Crap. She had to go and open herself up in that damn note today. And Mary Margaret just had to invite him over for dinner, tonight of all nights.

This was going to be interesting.

*****************************************************

Killian was just as surprised as she was when he arrived at the Nolans. Apparently, Mary Margaret had gushed on about her “sister,” but had failed to mention a name. They told Mary Margaret and David about their interactions in the drive thru, and everyone had a good laugh about it. What a small world! How ironic! That sort of thing. Killian seemed no different than normal. Maybe he hadn’t gotten the note yet?

Emma, on the other hand, was wound tight. Maybe things had been more comfortable between them when there was a car door and a time restraint. Or maybe it was all those stupid notes hanging over Emma’s head. Whatever it was, it made Emma’s face feel like it was stuck in a perpetual blush. She couldn’t think of a damn thing to say, and Mary Margaret and David were not-so-subtly trying to play matchmaker as they attempted to steer the conversation Emma’s way. But all she could do was give one word answers and stare at her plate.

“Well,” Killian said with a satisfied sigh, “I can’t tell you Mary Margaret how delicious this was. Working at a restaurant all day, the last thing I feel like doing when I get home is cook. This was amazing, really.”

Mary Margaret beamed at his compliment. “Well, we are pleased to have you. You should come over more often. We miss you. Right, David?”

“Yeah,” David chuckled, shoving Killian’s shoulder, “I’ve got no one to watch hockey games with anymore. It’s not really a popular sport around here.”

“The notes were from me,” Emma blurted out.

Everyone immediately fell silent at Emma’s completely out of context outburst. Except for Leo, who ran his fork across his plate with a loud screech and demanded to know what was for dessert.

Emma lifted her gaze from her lap to meet Killian’s. “The notes that kept arriving at Chick-fil-A in the afternoons? They were all from me.” She let out a long, shaky breath.

“I know,” was all Killian said in response.

Emma’s eyes widened. “I – I thought you might. When did you figure it out?”

He chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I suspected, or hoped, it was you from the start. You see, every note corresponded with our morning interactions. But of course, today confirmed it. I was testing you by quoting one of your notes, and then when the note this afternoon was about home . . . “

He trailed off, a grin splitting his face.

“You hoped it was me from the start?”

He nodded, and Emma just sat there grinning right back at him like a fool. Mary Margaret hurriedly jumped from the table, scooping up Leo.

“Hey!” the little boy protested. “What about dessert?”

“We’ll eat cookies in front of the TV,” Mary Margaret muttered in response, “David, now.”

Killian and Emma chuckled as their matchmakers hurried from the kitchen. Emma felt as nervous as she had been back in junior high when she went to her first school dance. Killian rose from his seat across from her and came to take the seat beside her. They both shifted their chairs to be a little closer.

“I felt something between us the moment I first saw you,” Killian said.

“You mean when you offered my non-existent kid a free ice cream cone?”

Killian chuckled and ducked his head. How a man could be so sexy, cocky, and bashful all at the same time was incredibly endearing. He lifted his eyes to meet hers, a silent question passing between them. Emma nodded imperceptibly as they both leaned towards one another. When Killian’s lips met hers, the contact was charged with an intense attraction she had never felt before.

Except when his fingers had brushed hers in the drive thru.

Those fingers now carded through her hair as she tilted her head to deepen the kiss. His lips were soft against hers, but his kisses were firm and passionate. His other hand came up to gently caress her face, his thumb tracing her jaw and coming to rest on her chin. Emma pulled back, giving him a shy smile, which he returned. Then they resumed kissing, their tongues entwined in a dance so perfect, it felt as if they had been molded to fit together. When they finally parted, they were breathing heavily. Emma rested her forehead against his and sighed in complete contentment.

“Emma,” he murmured. God, she loved the way he said her name!

“Yeah,” she mumbled back dreamily.

“It’s definitely been a pleasure to serve you.”

#cs #cs ff #cs fanfic #cs valentine fic #secret admirer #chick-fil-a

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jin-fluenced · 4 years ago

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Jin-fluenced’s May Recs

Fics I read throughout the month of May thinking I must have done something amazing at some point in my life to be blessed with these … I can’t believe you guys are letting us read your work for free.

Kim Seokjin

Half-Baked Holiday @ddaenggtan – Bakery a.u. F2L, I2L (idiots to lovers) (fluff/smut/slight angst) | The Snow Ball Effect Project | What I love about this project: I love, love, love this project! The way everyone story is told independently; the way each story is unique with its own quirks and twists and the humor! Oh, the humor! The way I understand it the stories are written by four different authors but the way it all comes together and it fits so well, and how they have represented each respective member’s personality and quality so exquisitely and they are all referenced throughout the story even before they meet up at Tae’s cabin. I am sure I will think about this project for years to come, I really have not read anything like this before. What I love about this fic: They really are idiots; adorable idiots in love. Throughout the entirety of this fic I was shouting at them to JUST KISS! JUST DO IT! Jin was so understanding, so patient and so accepting of y/n – a true king.

2,561 Days @gossamie – marriage a.u. (angst with a touch of fluff) Summary: Two years of marriage could not stop the relationship from falling apart. As an attempt to seek closure before the divorce, Seokjin and you retrace your seven years together. What I love about this fic: the way the author writes angst, the fic is so well written and structured. Each scene made my heart break all over again. This is art.

Min Yoongi

Sugar @seokjxnnie – CEO, escort, office a.u. (smut) Summary: executive assistant to Min Yoongi by day and secret escort by night, the two separate elements of her life spiral into entwinement when her boss accidentally walks in on her taking a sex call with a sugar daddy. What I love about this fic: this one particular scene where y/n is on the phone and Yoongi is watching her …. *fans myself*

I’ll Float Away @ppersonna – Post-breakup, idol a.u. (very heavy angst, smut, fluff) Summary: years after the breakup, Yoongi, a successful award-winning rapper with an unhealthy addiction finds your wedding invite on Facebook. What I love about this fic: Character development. The way Yoongs grew as a person and overcame his struggles – truly inspiring.

Jung Hoseok

The Worst Wonderful Time of The Year @lamourche – Christmas/office a.u. (fluff/with a hint of smut) What I love about this fic: y/n was so close to titling her life as ‘a series of unfortunate events’ but then she meets Hobi and he made those unfortunate events a lot more bearable and liked her for the loveable, funny, clumsy person she is (with a super ability to make babies cry).

The Holiday: Unplugged @gukslut – Established relationship a.u. (sluff/smut/humor) What I love about this fic: their relationship, man … Their dynamic and the fact that they don’t need anyone else as long as they have each other. Therapist Jiminie and Hobi is a noteworthy conversation. I too would moan thinking about Jung Hoseok fucking me.

Kim Namjoon

Phantom Pains @fortunexkookie – Ghost a.u. (smut/fluff/angst) Summary: Namjoon had lived his entire life a certain kind of way - slowly, thoughtfully, and cautiously - and one moment of carelessness was all it took for it to end. He thought his death had come before he was ready, stealing his chance to figure out what he’d been missing. It wasn’t until he met you that he realized he’d been wrong all along. His life hadn’t ended a moment too soon. In fact, it had ended just in time to save yours. What I love about this fic: the author said this was going to be bittersweet so I braced myself but boy, I did not expect to weep like that. It’s so heart wrenching and hauntingly (pun intended) beautiful. Their love is so pure … fate can be such a cruel bitch. The way the author illustrated it I could feel what it was like for Joon to touch y/n for the first time, and my stomach twisted knowing that he would give anything to be able to really touch her.

All Aboard! (The Passion Express) @ve1vetyoongi – Office a.u. E2L (smut) Summary: There were not many things that got your blood boiling in the same way that two simple words could. Kim Namjoon. The name of your irritating and (unfortunately enough, as the universe would have it) incredibly handsome co-worker. Which is exactly why you never expected to find yourself on your knees for him on the train home. What I love about this fic: ZADDY JOON! THE FILTH! Man, what I would give for Joon to treat me like the filthy slut I am ON A TRAIN!

Midnight Wishes @ddaenggtan – Friend w/ Benefits, roommates, co-workers a.u. I2L (fluff/smut/angst) | The Snow Ball Effect Project | What I love about this fic: How can two people so smart be absolute idiots when it comes to each other? I would give my left arm and both legs for Namjoon to call me slick, and ask me if I want it – because yes, yes, I do want him to fuck me stupid. I relate to y/n when it comes to pining and the butterflies and the clenching when it comes to Joon.

Park Jimin

Snow Don’t Tell @stutterfly – Neighbours a.u. F2L (fluff/smut/humour) | The Snow Ball Effect Project | What I love about this fic: The. Build. Up! The way they were already there and so in love with each other at the beginning of the fic, to them finally caving … I was blown. Jimin is so seductive, playful and loving at the same time, and their sense of humour and the constant teasing back and forth; I am weak!

Gratuitous Redemption @minjoonalist – Divorce a.u. (smut/angst/fluff?) Summary: Jimin is Innocent when it comes to his wife’s accusations and as stubborn as she is, the man refuses to go down without a fight. What I love about this fic: The angst. I cried like a little baby … I felt absolutely crushed.

I’ll Lead (and you have no choice) @boxysmiles [AO3] Summary: Park Jimin has always had taken comfort in his soulmate. Knowing that someone out there is connected to him through the red string tied around their fingers. Kim Taehyung, however, likes to make his life a lot more interesting. Because Kim Taehyung’s string isn’t around his finger. It’s around his neck. What I love about this fic: The way I cried, first I cried for Taehyung, then I cried for Jimin, then I cried because there was nothing they could do about it. Truly a masterpiece.

Kim Taehyung

Extracurricular @ppersonna – Professor, student a.u. (smut) Summary: Your professor Kim Taehyung is on the final key to securing your spot in the top 5% of your graduating class. What I love about this fic: I can’t go to class without thinking about Professor Kim Taehyung bending me over his desk.

Misconceptions @softjimin – Member x member (AO3) Summary: ‘So, Jimin has a daddy kink. Namjoon hyung, can you pass me the salt? Thanks’ What I love about this fic: Taetae, bless his soul, tried so hard to keep it in his pants.

Picking Flowers @jamaisjoons – Hanahaki, Neighbours a.u. F2L Summary: in the seven years you’ve been away, love had caused flowers to bloom in Taehyung’s chest only for them to wilt when she’d left him. when you meet Taehyung again, he doesn’t know what love is and more importantly, doesn’t know how to love or if he can ever love again. can you teach him? or will a garden of unrequited love blossom within the confines of your own chest? What I love about this fic: Everything, there is not a single thing I don’t absolutely adore. I don’t have the words to describe the way it made me feel. Please give lots of love to Solar.

Cheap skate @gukslut - Established relationship, domestic a.u. (fluff, smut, humor) What I love about this fic: THIS COUPLE! Reading about their relationship is the equivalent of having hot coffee, toast and sunny-side-up eggs for breakfast on Saturday.

Jeon Jungkook

Frost Impressions @fortunexkookie – Teachers, Gamers a.u. E2L/F2L (fluff/smut/heavy pining/slight angst) What I love about this fic: Absolute-mess-Jeon-Jungkookie! The humour – the author really nailed the humour. This is one of the best fics I have ever read. The second hand embarrassment was so real! *insert your mind it amazes me picture here*. I am fucking sorry at how smitten I am with these characters.

Little Wolf, Pretty Wolf, Your Wolf @readyplayerhobi (fluff/smut/angst) What I love about this fic: I have read a LOT of werewolf a.u., but this fic takes the cake! I joke about how there is a certain cliché to werewolf a.us but what I got from this fic is not what I expected at all going into it. I love the way y/ n and JK complimented each other, how supportive they were. She did it again you guys … I am in love.

#bts fic rec #bts smut #bts fluff #bts humor #bts angst #bts slow burn #bts crack

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wanderinginksplot · 4 years ago

Text

Clone Trooper Rambles

Part journal, part creative writing, fully weird. Also, this one is really long. Other rambles can be found here.

Bad Dream

“Hey, are you okay?” Echo asked gently, stepping a bit faster to walk beside me.

“Yeah, of course,” I told him with a smile. “Why do you ask?”

“You haven’t spoken in an hour and a half,” Trapper answered for Echo, walking on his other side.

“Oh.” I thought about it for a moment. “I think I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep very well last night.”

“You don’t say,” Crosshair said sourly. “I thought you made a habit of waking up gasping at three in the morning.”

“It was an unusually vivid dream,” I admitted, embarrassed for a reason I couldn’t quite pin down.

“Do you remember any of it?” Echo asked, stepping over a rough section of ground.

“Not much, but there was one thing…” I shivered, but cut myself off with a laugh. “It’s probably nothing.”

“What is?” Crosshair sounded less than thrilled to be asking, but all of the troopers eyed me expectantly.

I frowned, scrubbing tiredly at my face. “Uh… I remember someone laughing.”

“Laughing?” Trapper repeated. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“You wouldn’t think so,” I agreed slowly. “And then this guy told me, ‘He’s looking for you. He’s going to find you. You can’t hide from him.’ That sort of thing.”

“Who can’t you hide from?” Echo’s posture had straightened slightly.

I shook my head. “Probably no one. I was reading something mysterious before I went to sleep and that probably caused it.”

“You look… scared,” Trapper observed hesitantly. “Are you sure you have no idea who the guy was talking about? Or who the guy was?”

“It could be- Well, not really, though. The guy talking was…” I thought back, trying to capture the wispy strands of the dream even as it was slipping away as half-remembered dreams tend to do. Like a camera flash, I could see the face of the man who had been warning me.

I didn’t know him, not that I could remember, but he was certainly dead. Not only that, but his mouth had been strange, almost like it had been cut.

“Miss me, sweets?” a voice whispered in my ear.

I jumped, hard. I couldn’t help it.

“What is it?” Echo asked urgently.

I was already absorbed in studying the immediate area. “Hang on, I need to concentrate,” I muttered absently.

Metaphysics are hard to explain. In this particular case, it was like scanning everything around me, but not visually. I was looking for a general sense of something, a trace rather than a person. It took quite a bit of focus, but the adrenaline was working in my favor.

“We need to call Captain Rex,” Trapper said decisively.

“I’ll do it,” Crosshair instantly agreed, lifting his comlink to his mouth even as he eyed the area with suspicion.

Dimly, I recognized that the three troopers had all put their helmets on, and both Echo and Crosshair had lowered their rangefinders. Each man held at least one blaster, scanning the area with their eyes at least as hard as I was doing with whatever metaphysical nonsense I could manage.

When Rex joined us, he did so at a brisk walk, dual blasters drawn and rangefinder down. Clearly, Crosshair had managed to brief him on the situation. What he knew of it, anyway.

“What’s going on?” Rex asked, clearly tense.

“We were talking about the dream she had last night,” Echo told him. “She jumped like she had been shot and she hasn’t said much or moved at all since.”

Rex was standing directly in front of me a moment later. “Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I can,” I told him distantly. “Hang on…”

“We need to move somewhere more protected than this,” Rex told the troopers, seeming to recognize that I was absorbed in something else. “Send out an all-call, put all troopers on alert.”

“For what?” Crosshair asked.

“There’s a threat,” Rex answered grimly. “I don’t know what it is yet, but I can feel it.”

I finished scanning the area and nodded. “Let’s get somewhere a little more private. There are some things I probably should tell you.”

Rex had already started moving by the time I finished speaking, the contingent of guards traveling with us as we walked. “I��m going to have Cody, Wolffe, Fox, Boss, and Hunter meet us. They’ll need to be briefed on the situation as well.”

In a very short amount of time, we were all hidden away in a semi-secluded area. Everyone wore their helmets, but I could feel the expectant looks and took a deep breath before I got started.

“I’ve told you guys that you aren’t the first group of characters who shows up for me. Almost every story I’ve written has been with a character talking in my ear. Well, there was one… he wasn’t… uh, he wasn’t good for me, I guess you’d say. He’s called the Joker.”

No one moved, so I kept talking. “I was writing a one-shot about him and it went pretty smoothly. He’s insane, but he can be charming when he wants to be. When it gives him an advantage. Well, I wrote it and posted it and there was a good response. People wanted more and he agreed to help me write more of the story.”

“That’s where things went bad,” I said, dropping my gaze to the ground. It was easier than looking anyone in the face when I admitted my own stupidity. “He was always around, saying and doing the most twisted things. The more I wrote for him, the more I started to think like him. I don’t have much experience with insanity - other than the whole character thing - but I think I was getting close to something bad happening to my mind.”

“The worst part is, I can’t even blame him,” I laughed as I said it, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “I knew who he was and that he thinks it’s fun to make people go as crazy as he is. I knew better, but I got caught up in writing a good story. It was more my fault than his.”

“When I figured out what was happening, I ended the story,” I finished. “There were supposed to be five more chapters or so, but I couldn’t keep writing for him. I was scared of losing myself. I ended the story and shut him out. It was hard, probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but the worst part is that it didn’t entirely… work. He still pops up every now and then.”

“Pops up,” Rex repeated tonelessly.

“Yeah,”I agreed. “He just comes in, torments me for a while, tries to break my mind, and leaves when I can force him away. It has happened three or four times in the past few years. I just need to know when he’s coming so I can be ready. The dream may have been a sign that he’ll be here soon. Don’t worry, though - I’ll handle him. You guys just lay low for a week or two and I’ll get him out as soon as I can.”

“We aren’t going to do that,” Cody said slowly, glancing around at the other commanding officers. “We’re here. We may be able to put a stop to this guy once and for all.”

“You can’t do that,” I told him flatly. “I don’t think any of you guys can be killed in your current state. If I do something that harms someone badly enough that they die - not that I do that on purpose - they just forget what they’ve done here and come back with no memory. They just start over.”

“We can give him something else to focus on, then,” Boss offered.

“Blaster bolts can be pretty distracting,” Wolffe agreed menacingly.

“He’ll try to kill you,” I warned them. “I can’t take the risk that anyone will get hurt.”

“You just said we can’t be hurt,” Hunter reminded.

I had to stop for a moment. That was an excellent point and a flaw in my logic that I hadn’t previously considered. “Maybe you guys can hurt each other since you’re in a different plane? If he’s on the same plane, he could hurt you.”

“But then we’d be able to hurt him,” Rex said. “And there are a lot more of us than there are of him.”

“Let us help you,” Cody requested gently. I shot him a look, reminded that he had served with Obi-Wan Kenobi for most of the war. “Please.”

“I… I can’t ask all of you to take this risk,” I said eventually.

“What if we made it a volunteer effort?” Fox asked. “Only men who understand the risks and agree to continue guard duty will watch for him.”

“That might work,” I agreed, disgruntled by the neat way that had worked out.

“Good,” Rex said. “Tell me everything about the Joker, I’ll brief the men about him, and build a list of volunteers. For now, I’m assigning at least one man from each battalion to guard you. Today is considered high-risk. If you see anything suspicious, tell them and we’ll send backup to your location.”

Less than two hours later, Rex cheerfully reported that every trooper had volunteered to stay on guard duty, even fully understanding the risks. My arguments that they couldn’t fully understand fell on deaf ears and I resigned myself to having extra guards for the foreseeable future.

The only question was: who would end up guarding who?

---

A/N - So fun fact: this is a true story. I wrote a Joker/OC story called Safety Dance and ended up having to rush an ending because I was uncomfortable with the way it was making me think. I still get deeply uncomfortable when I see pictures of Jared Leto’s Joker and Safety Dance is, to date, the only story I will never consider writing a sequel for.

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purplesurveys · 3 years ago

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1236

survey by lasertine

10 How's

How did you get one of your scars? I keep recounting the story of my eyebrow scar, so I’ll share something else...I have several scars on both my knees since I was the neighborhood’s clumsiest kid and ALWAYS tripped/stumbled when I played outside. I used to be extremely insecure of my legs, but started to stop caring as I gradually noticed that no one really gives a shit about scars from childhood accidents.

How did you celebrate your last birthday? I went to work, being the workaholic I am. I only celebrated in the evening, when I bought a week’s worth of food for my family and I to feast on. I was honestly fine with it; it was exactly how I wanted my birthday to go as I’ve stopped wanting to make a big deal out of it haha.

How are you feeling at this moment? Weirdly relaxed for a Sunday. The gloomy and cozy weather is probably helping with that.

How did your night go last night? As a fangirl, good! Got lots of new content which is always fun. As a person (lol), it was just fine. I like being able to recharge on weekends and I can never really complain even if I don’t end up doing anything productive.

How did you do in high school? I was a bit all over the place. I exerted some level of effort in my favorite classes but didn’t really do the same for subjects I didn’t care for as much, like home ec, chemistry, math, etc; but on average I managed to get good grades all throughout. Overall, I kinda acknowledged very early on that high school grades weren’t going to matter in the real world so I didn’t make it a point to overexert myself and just focused on having fun and making fond memories in those teen years.

How did you get the shirt you're wearing? I got it from Artwork, a local brand that sells various apparel sporting designs produced by local artists. The branch I got it from has since shut down but I believe the brand is still alive and well.

How often do you see your best friend? I used to see Angela once in a blue moon mainly because our schedules always clashed back when we were still students, but ever since forming our little Army friend group with Reena I’ve been seeing her nearly every week.

How much money did you spend last month? LOL June was actually my worst and most shameful performance when it came to spending...let’s move on...

How old do you want to be when you get married? Kinda happen it would happen by the time I’m in between the ages of 28 and 30, kind of losing hope on it.

How old will you be at your next birthday? 24.

NINE What’s

What is the most important part of your life? I’ve said this several times but it’s really work. I’m aware of my weaknesses at my job and I want nothing more than to improve on those just because my perfectionist ass can’t bear being bad at something I’m supposed to be contributing to lol.

What did you do last weekend? Last Saturday I watched BTS’ concert in Sao Paulo and had my first session at my Korean class. Last Sunday I mostly chilled at home but I also went to Starbucks to work for a bit but to also just relax before the week started.

What did you last cry over? Watching Angela and Reena’s graduation ceremony this afternoon. It’s hilarious because I didn’t even cry during and was mostly indifferent towards my own grad, but I surprised myself by breaking into tears while watching theirs. I’m guessing the emotions simply welled up from me being very grateful for our friendship, which formed when I needed it the most.

What are you worried about? I always get Monday anxiety on Sundays, so let’s go with that.

What is your mother’s name? Abby.

What always makes you feel better when you’re upset? BTS, for one.

What would you rather be doing? It’s not a matter of what I would rather be doing, but where I would rather be. And right now, I wish I was back on a Friday evening with the weekend just about to start.

What’s the most important thing you look for in a significant other? Patience.

What did you have for breakfast? My mom cooked up a feast for today’s breakfast for no reason - we had fried rice, tocino, I think bangus(?) and if not bangus then it was some other kind of fish, corned beef, cheese omelette, glazed ham, bacon strips, and the leftover chicken wings from last night’s dinner.

EIGHT Have You’s

Have you ever done something outrageously dumb? I probably do something of the sort at least once a day.

Have you ever had sex on the beach? No. I think I might feel uncomfortable doing so, even if you told me it would be a private beach lol.

Have you ever been backstabbed by a friend? Yes.

Have you ever been out of the country? Yup, but it’s been a while. :( I haven’t traveled abroad since 2016.

Have you ever dated someone younger than you? It barely counts; she was only like a month and half younger.

Have you ever liked someone who already had somebody? That hasn’t happened.

Have you ever been brokenhearted? Of course.

Have you ever read an entire book in one day? Many times.

SEVEN Who’s:

Who is the last person you saw? My dad. He was watching the evening news in his room when I heard the report playing Permission to Dance so I rushed in there to see what the news was going to be about, hahahaha.

Who is the last person that you texted? ...also my dad. I was just asking him where he was since I had been craving chapaguri the other day and was gonna request if he can quickly pass by the Korean mart near our village. He never replied so I just cooked the instant noodles that we have at home, which in hindsight was I guess for the better because at least I got to save the money I would’ve paid him with.

Who called you last? The Lalamove driver I mentioned on the previous survey.

Who is the last person you hung out with? Angela, Reena, and Hans.

Who did you hug last? Angela, right before I left from her place last Tuesday.

Who is the last person that texted you? Not sure.

Who was the las person you said "I love you" to? Yumi, when I congratulated her on her graduation post.

SIX Where’s:

Where does your best friend live? The city next to mine.

Where is your favorite place to be? Either a coffee shop or our rooftop.

Where did you sleep last night? My bed.

Where did you last hang out? Mega with the three aforementioned friends.

Where do/did you go to school? UP.

Where did you last adventure to? ...Mega. So repetitive hahaha but I don’t really go out much these days for obvious reasons.

FIVE Do’s/Does:

Do you ever wish you were someone else? Not someone else in particular but I will sometimes daydream about having a different reality/situation, like being able to play an instrument or being more capable of affording more things.

Do you think anyone despises you? Possibly.

Do you like someone right now? Nopes.

Does the future scare you? It doesn’t scare me so much as it’s increasingly starting to make me feel lonelier whenever I start thinking about it.

Do you have any secret powers? Erm, no.

FOUR Why’s:

Why are you best friends with your best friend(s)? They’ve both been there through the thick and the thin and the ugly with me and have never once left my side.

Why did your parents give you the name you have? As for both my names, they just liked the sound of them.

Why did you get a myspace? Because I noticed it was popular and I wanted to see what the fuss was about.

Why are you doing this survey? Countdown surveys are always a fun format.

THREE If’s:

If you could have one super power what would it be? Time travel.

If you could go back in time and change one thing, would you? If it comes down to it, as irresistible as it seems, probably not.

If you could live anywhere, where would it be? Somewhere with winter/snow.

Two Would-you-ever’s:

Would you ever shave your head to save someone you love? I’m struggling to think how that can action save someone, but I guess if it ever does boil down to it then yeah, in a heartbeat. It grows back and if the situation was that drastic, hair would be the least of my concerns.

Would you ever get back together with any of your exes if they asked you? Depends.

Last one:

Are you happy with how your life has turned out? Very.

#survey #surveys

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