#why am I always Julia Roberts in everyone’s romcom

[ihearthes]

.

[itsmyonedirectionblog]

Harry: Why am I always Julia Roberts?  In everyone’s romcom, I’m always Julia Roberts.

[greaseonmymouth]

i was tagged by: @annawrites 

rules: answer these 20 questions and tag 20 amazing followers you’d like to get to know better!

name: Karen

nicknames: K

zodiac sign: Sagittarius and I stand by it

height: 162cm so...5'3" ?

orientation: ....PANDEMIC!! I'm kidding, I just wanted to make that pun. Demi & bi (though I used to say pan…pan + demi = pandemic…and now i ruined it by explaining it. sorry.)

gender identity: all over the place

nationality: Icelandic (legally: Danish)

favourite fruit: i’m not actually super into fruit and rarely eat it. Given how incredibly picky I am about bananas and how difficult they are to eat for me, it’s surprising that I do actually eat them semi-regularly... (fun fact: i had a bunch of intelligence tests done in early childhood before I got my hearing aids because people thought I was stupid (surprise: i was not) and there's a fun anecdote from one of them. When asked to point out the edible items from a selection of picture cards, I pointed out 0. zero. no edible items. none. why? the only edible item from that particular selection of cards was a card with a banana on it and child!me detested bananas. ergo, bananas were inedible. child!me wasn’t exactly wrong. why do i keep eating bananas??!)

favourite season: I want to say winter but honestly a) winter in Denmark is fucking terrible and b) i get winter depression every year regardless of the state of winter so in conclusion: fuck winter, give me arctic summers instead

favourite book: i can’t possibly pick just one book (or series) to be my favourite, so uhm, let me do three favourite books/series read so far in 2017 in no particular order: 

the turner series by cat sebastian. i just preordered her newest book which will come out two days before my birthday (YAY) and has a VICAR and a SEA CAPTAIN falling in love and also boning WHAT MORE COULD A GUY POSSIBLY WANT (yes i realise i haven’t said a word about the actual turner series because i’m too busy yelling about the new book, but anyway where was i); 

the invisible library series by genevieve cogman, which i’m counting even if there’s still two books to come (next one is coming in january i believe????) because it was the most fun i’ve had reading a series since gail carriger’s parasol protectorate, aka these books are a delightful romp; 

the micah grey trilogy by laura lam ( @lauraroselam​ ) because micah struck a pretty serious chord with me and also i love the world building very much - but mostly i loved the characters, micah and lily in particular.

honourable mention goes to the spiritwalker trilogy by kate elliott, which i started reading last year and finished this spring. absolutely wonderful. this is the kind of good that had me floored with how masterfully crafted the whole thing was, but also the characters are so!!! i love them. (the romance was also A+.) i love everything about this trilogy and i hope you all read it.

favourite scent: the sea, fresh pine wood, clean sheets (I don't use scented detergent), garlic cooking, actually food cooking in general with very few exceptions,

favourite colour: I really like real/turquoise at the moment. Blue and greens are always good choices, and I love reds and pinks as well. Orange is another favourite and yellow when it's still on the warm side, or pastel-y. Cold tone purples are also A+. I'm generally not fond of brown...except when it's edible. I mean chocolate. I love chocolate.

favourite animal: in general or like...as pets? Because I like whales and octopuses and foxes and wolves and elephants and owls (and many more), but I wouldn't keep any of those as pets :'''D

coffee | tea | hot cocoa: hot chocolate

average hours of sleep: 7-8

cat or dog person: both! I'd have a dog if it weren't for how my dysfunctional ass can't handle the care of a dog at present. I'm looking into getting a cat or two (two so they can keep each other company when I'm out)...but not until I've got a job so I can pay for it, ugh.

favourite fictional characters: I...have a lot... .___. Can I just say everyone on wynonna earp? Because I sure do have a lot of love for that particular group of people 💖  and they happen to be at the forefront of my mind at the moment. 

number of blankets you sleep with: one. I overheat easily at night so I have a thin "cold" duvet that I use year round (what other people might call “summer blanket”). If I get cold in winter (the heating is off in my bedroom as a general rule) I might put a thin wool blanket on top, but usually I'm good with just the one.

dream trip: there are so many trips I want to do? My plan for next year was to celebrate turning 30 by taking long weekends and week trips all over the world to visit friends, but seeing as I'm still unemployed I might not be able to do that after all. Other trips I want to make:

- bike trip of the British isles with Ireland and Scotland prioritised - bike trip to Nordkapp - bike trip to Berlin - a food tour to everywhere that has good food (honestly I don't know where to start??) - a second food tour to the places I didn't go to on the first - and so on - so many food tours - let me eat my way across the planet - the grand Swedish cruise aka a six day trip on an old boat through Sweden (Gothenburg to Stockholm) - a ride on the trans Siberian railway   - this summer I really wanted to do the writing excuses cruise but alas I am broke (when am I not) but one day...one day - i would go on so many trips honestly

blog created: 2011

random fact: my favourite romcom is the proposal BUT i have a huge soft spot for 90s movies and in particular things hugh grant and julia roberts have been in...and guess what, those two things unite beautifully in notting hill and let me just say that if the proposal didn’t exist (i am WEAK for fake relationships) my love for notting hill would absolutely be the hill i die on

i’m tagging: a bunch of random people, sorry, i’m just hitting @ and some random letters with my eyes closed. @thepersephonecabin​ , @capncrystal​ , @neversandnowheres​ , @eatingfireflies​ , @pipariperho​ , @actualkatebishop​

[nomorelonelydays]

Patater Week - Day 2

Feb. 7- Proposal/Wedding Day/Wedding Night (1.5K) “I’m nervous,” Kent says. “Change your mind?” Alexei teases, only feeling a tiny bit worried. He doesn’t think Kent will actually bail on him, now that they’re both in their suits and the hall is surely packed with their families and teammates. Bittle would cry if anything happened, Alexei thinks. And then skin both of them alive. But then again, Alexei did see Runaway Bride twice with Snowy, when he was first learning English and someone had the brilliant idea that the best way to learn is to watch all the classic romcoms. Snowy, it turns out, is a big fan of Richard Gere. Kent doesn’t look like he’s ready to bolt, but he did seem skittish, and in the movie, Julia Roberts had been very skittish. “No, never,” Kent says, taking Alexei’s hands and rubbing his thumb over Alexei’s palms. His hair is already a little mussed, the untamable cowlick threatening to pop back up. “Not about you. I know I’m an ass about a lot of things, but you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” “Good to know,” Alexei says, letting out a breath of relief. “You tell me now, then what you say for vows?” “Oh, God,” Kent laughs nervously. “Oh man. That’s—that’s the thing. The vows. In front of a bunch of people. I could probably do it. Maybe. You wouldn’t happen to be carrying Xanax on you?” He chuckles and scratches the back of his neck, but his jaw drops when he sees Alexei rummage in his pockets. “Wait, I’m just joking. I don’t actually—what the hell is that?”

Alexei shrugs as he shows the tiny blue pills in his palms. “Snowy put in pocket. He say ‘just in case.’ I’m not check yet, is maybe candy. He knows I’m like Smarties.” “What kind of Smarties are shaped like this? Did your goalie seriously give you Viagra? What’s wrong with your team, man?” Kent pauses. “Isn’t Viagra prescription? Oh my God, does Snowy need Viagra? That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day. I’m going to tell everyone later.” “Viagra?” “He fucking gave you penis pills, Alexei. He’s messing with you.” “I’m not need penis pill,” Alexei says. “My penis work.” “Don’t I fucking know it,” Kent mutters. “Wait. Wait, wait. What if we fuck? Like, in the supply closet or something before we go in?” “You meaning…right now?” Alexei looks around the church, scandalized. He hisses, “You crazy? Here? Where God see us?” “Alexei, you’re barely religious,” Kent mutters. “The only time I’ve seen you cross yourself was when that stew burned when your mom told you to watch it while she went out for supplies. Like, another thing of sour cream. Why does she need that much sour cream? Makes no sense.” “She not kill me that day is big miracle.” Alexei pointed to the door in exasperation, where the guests surely are waiting for Kent and Alexei to walk through. “But my point! Maybe God not care. But even worse thing, if my mother—” “Gross, that’s a boner killer,” Kent says, looking at the Viagra in Alexei’s hands. “Thank God we have these. Haha, hashtag blessed. Gimme a penis pill.” Alexei actually startles and tosses the pills behind him, where it clatters on the tile floor in a rather anticlimactic way. “No! No one have penis pill.” “Stop littering, Alexei. Christ, do you want us to get kicked out?” Alexei furrows his brows in disbelief. “You want to fuck in church and say I’m get us kick out?” “I’m freaking out, Alexei. You know I’ll say anything after an orgasm. Remember that time we had sex on your couch and I told you I hated that couch afterwards? Even though two days ago, I said it was a great purchase?” “Which couch? Yellow one or purple?” “Yel—wait, oh, God. Both of them are so fucking ugly. Um. I think yellow?” “You said you love the purple one,” Alexei argued. “Said it remind you of Barney the dinosaur.” “That wasn’t a compliment!” “But you love dinosaurs! Always buy the chicken shape like dino. How I’m know?” “Stop yelling at me! Who the hell doesn’t love Dino Nuggets, what are you, some kind of savage? I didn’t know I had to spell it out for you! The—no, we’re going off topic.” “I’m not yell,” Alexei not-yells, wringing his hands for good measure. “I’m not the one who want to fuck in church!” “We need to fuck,” Kent insists. “I’ll make it through the vows in front of ten thousand people only if I orgasm, since Jeff won’t let me touch alcohol. Which is a good idea, I don’t want to puke on your shoes. I’ll probably throw in a joke or two. It’ll be great.” “I’m not fuck you before ceremony,” Alexei says firmly, and Kent’s face falls. “Besides, only about 150 people. Maybe 152 if Sergei and his wife make in time, but they text me say they lost—” “Ugh, don’t tell me the number. Why didn’t we host the wedding in our backyard? Jesus, why didn’t we just elope?” Kent whines. “I actually live in Vegas. Couldn’t even have a Vegas, Elvis-themed wedding. What kind of fraud am I?”   “Hey, hey, come here.” Alexei doesn’t gather Kent into his arms so much as open his arms and have Kent barrel into his chest a little too eagerly. “Tell me why you really worry. Not crowd, I don’t think. Kent Parson love crowd and camera.” “Shut up, sometimes I like to sit in my room alone and do nothing, too,” Kent’s muffled voice says. “And then post picture on Instagram,” Alexei says, smiling into Kent’s hair. Kent doesn’t make a noise, only holds his fiancé tighter. Alexei lowers his voice to a coax, and with each name, he presses a kiss down Kent’s face, “Kenny, Kenny V. Parson. Going to be my Kenny Vincent Parson Rostislav Stanislavovich… Dostoevsky…Anna Karenina…Mashkov—” “Shut the fuck up, I hate you, Dostoevsky isn’t even a real person,” Kent complains into Alexei’s shirt. “I’m pretend I not hear that.” “And we agreed to hyphenate, you ass.” “Tell me what is bother you,” Alexei says, kissing the corner the Kent’s mouth. “And maybe I reconsider naming our child Leo Tolstoy. Is probably only name you can pronounce.” “I wouldn’t let you name our dog Leo Tolstoy,” Kent says. “Well, maybe Leo is okay for a dog. I take that back. And I can pronounce your name.” “Eh, more or less.” Alexei huffs a sigh. “Come, Kenny, tell me what I’m do so you feel better.” He feels Kent stiffen at his side, then whisper, so quietly that Alexei almost doesn’t catch it, “Can I just say my vows right now to you, so even if I mess up in there and every asshole sitting down waiting for me to fuck up knows I’m no good, at least you’ll know what I meant?” And there it is, all of Kent Parson’s fears laid out in the open. Kent doesn’t bother to look up, but he doesn’t pull away from Alexei, either. He’s always been stubborn, anyways. “Hey. If you mess up, and you thinking people think this,” Alexei murmurs, feeling Kent hold his breath, “then fuck them. Fuck all of them. Wedding for you and me. Maybe Kit, too. But not them. They only come for free food and alcohol.” Kent’s eyes aren’t exactly shiny when he does lift his head, but they are wide with surprise. “Already know you give more than I deserve, Kenny. So you can stand there, maybe only sing Britney Spears in front of God and Mama and nothing else, and I always know what you mean. Okay?” Kent’s mouth is slightly open in shock, but he seems to regain his sense when he grabs Alexei’s head down for a movie-worthy kiss. Alexei holds on to him, tipping Kent’s face back and rewrapping his arms around Kent, kissing him in that sure and happy way that only Kent can draw from him. “Sergei!” a woman’s voice says from behind them in annoyance, followed by a sound that sounds suspiciously like a purse smacking someone’s chest. “We miss it! Look, they already kissing! I knew I should have drove.” “No, they do this all the time, I think,” Sergei, Kent’s teammate says, as he readjusts his lapel. His wife, a tall, blonde woman in sharp heels and a tight, Tiffany blue dress, waves happily at the pair but stops when she hears a crunch beneath her feet. “Ew, what’s I’m stepping in?” she says, checking the remnants of the smushed Viagra pill on her shoe. Sergei coughs and waits for Kent and Alexei to pull apart before he continues apologetically, “Sorry. Hope we’re not late?” “You just on time,” Alexei says. He turns to Kent, “Ready?” Kent takes his hand. “Even if I sing Britney?” “Even if sing Britney.” (Kent doesn’t sing Britney. He says his vows perfectly, and Alexei thinks his mother cries a little bit in the front pew. And when they kiss, he feels Kent suppressing a happy, relieved laugh. He pulls back briefly before he has to dip Kent to kiss him again, and again, and again, until he hears Zimmboni quietly say, “Oh, wow, haha,” and Snowy in the background scream, “Yeah, Tater! That’s my fucking guy up there! Kissing his fucking husband!” before Marty pulls him back down in his seat.)

[w--xxn]

pb & j: hana

            The night before she met Marty, Hana had been stuck at home with the flu. She reached for the tissue box, sparing a listless glance at the film playing beside it. The pair’s easy relationship irritated her. Being single meant that Julia Roberts wasn’t going to magically appear at her doorstep with a steaming bowl of soup, no matter how hard she willed it into existence.

             “Hugh Grant has all the luck,” she muttered, voice hoarse. 

             She stared at her laptop; her pallid reflection gazed back at her from the screen’s edges. Thanks to her lack of foresight to stock up the medicine cabinet with anything other than Vicks VapoRub and Ginseng Tea, she had to use her personal remedy: romcoms. Hana peered closer, eyes squinting at the dim screen.

              This is the part where the two first meet. Their backdrop: a bustling street filled with people hurriedly moving without having any particular place to go. The scene’s cast: a celebrity walking with eyes downcast, a failing book shop owner strolling with a caffeine-induced skip in his step, and the nursing student who unknowingly nudged the book shop owner’s arm, effectively dousing the celebrity in coffee in the process.

             All it took was a spilled cup of coffee for the celebrity and book shop owner to fall hopelessly in love with each other. It was such an inconsequential moment—buying an overpriced cup of coffee at this point was as natural to Hana as breathing, much like any other college student—yet one mere coincidence gave it incommunicable meaning. People all over the world would still mill about, holding soy lattes in their hands and spilling them on other people, but it would never carry the same weight  as it did for them.

             For Hana, it wasn’t a cup of coffee that changed her life. It was two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

             As a girl, she had always been fascinated by the stars. For her, they were beacons guiding everyone with a subtlety that only she could pick up  on. In the vast expanse of dark, they were her light; they shone with a knowing brilliance, making themselves apparent to her. I am here. I have planned everything out, they seemed to say to her. I am watching over you. Now, as she gazed up at the stars, Marty by her side, she recalled what the stars had told her years ago, and the memory filled her with an indescribable warmth.

             She remembered the first time she had felt that warmth. It was the day she met Marty. Hana stared at the endless column of students ahead of her, distraught. Living in such a concentrated district like the University Belt meant that even the lines at the pharmacy were long. Although, she duly noted as the couple ahead of her approached the counter with apparent dread, students came here for entirely different reasons.

             In the ten minutes that passed after she had left the counter, two remarkable things happened. The first was that after taking a third bite out of her breakfast, she came to a realization: the sandwich she was eating had grape jam instead of her mandatory strawberry jam. Hana hated grapes. She would have never put it in something as sacred as a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. That realization, however, was overshadowed by the second remarkable thing that occurred to her on that day: a cute girl had just sat next to her.

             Hana wasn’t one to be flustered, she wore her unbridled confidence on her sleeve like a shield, but when Hana had accidentally caught the girl’s eye, she felt her face heat up like a kettle ready to explode. When she saw her, Hana felt like a child again, looking up at the night sky.

             Upon closer inspection, she recognized the girl’s face. She had come from the same pharmacy. The girl took out a small piece of bread from her paper bag. Hana raised a hand to cup her face and felt it burn with newfound vigor. She wondered why she hadn’t reacted the same way back then.

             “Ugh, strawberry,” the girl said, wincing in disgust.

             Hana’s ears perked up at the sound. “Huh?”

             The girl looked up, surprised. “Sorry, must’ve sounded weird out of context. It’s strawberry jam. I don’t put strawberry jam in my sandwiches. Probably mixed it up with someone else’s.”

             The girl’s words were succinct and precise. Hana found it endearing.

             “Funny you mention that. I happened to get a peanut butter sandwich with the grossest thing in the world,” Hana crinkled her nose. “Grape jam. Guess we’re both down on our luck.”

             The girl held her sandwich out to her. “Here. You can have mine.”

             Hana looked up at her, surprised. “What?”

             “It’s fine. I pinched a piece off, though. Hope that doesn’t bother you.”

             “Oh, no, you don’t have to! Really. It’s fine.” Hana said, letting out a long string of words to fend her off. “I’m down with the flu. At least, I think it’s the flu. I don’t know. I’m not a doctor.  At least, not yet. I guess. Anyways, even if I wanted to, I don’t have anything to trade that wouldn’t get you sick too. Plus, it’s your breakfast. I don’t want to impose on you or anything. People should eat. It’s good for their health. Skipping meals is dangerous stuff. Honestly. Like, are you s-“

              The girl smiled. “Really, I don’t mind.”

             It only took four words, two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and one big coincidence for Hana to fall in love with her. Or, to be more accurate, it had taken a string  of coincidences. If the bright summer sky  was replaced with bleak clouds and frigid air, Hana would have never noticed how the girl’s smile could rival the sun. If the restaurant beside them had been playing The Chainsmokers when they started talking, the conversation would have morphed into one borne from irritation instead of love, ending too quickly and missing the point entirely. If Hana hadn’t felt the unmistakable warmth that was brought about by just looking at the girl, she would have brushed it off as a mere act of kindness and nothing more.

             The night before she met Marty, Hana had been watching a film founded on coincidences. She had thought that the spilled coffee was only given meaning in retrospect; the pair’s love story had spun so out of control they were merely looking for a starting point. But now, as she stared at the girl, she understood. Love wasn’t found in the coincidence itself but in the little things that people tend to miss in that moment.

             She wasn’t so ridiculous that she would fall in love with a stranger over a sandwich. She had fallen in love when she saw the way the girl’s eyes crinkled when she smiled.  Hana’s heart had fluttered as she tilted her head listening to her ramble on about nothing at all. She knew that if the coincidence had never occurred to begin with, none of this would have happened. But it was the subtleties that she had picked up on that led a coincidence to grow into love.  If anything occurred differently, she knew they wouldn’t have ended up together. But the warmth that she had surrounded her body and painted her cheeks scarlet as she took the sandwich in her hand, mumbling a curt ‘thank you’ under her breath, made sure that they did.

             Right now, she and Marty were looking up at the stars.

             “Marty,” Hana said, turning to face her. “Remember the first time we met?”

             “Of course.” Marty said pointedly, preoccupied with the sight of the stars.

             “I’ve never been more grateful for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in my life.”

             Marty laughed, turning away from the stars to grin widely at her. “It was a pretty big coincidence.”

             Hana turned to stare at the stars that stood watch above her. The beacons of light that she had so relied on had guided her to a new light, one that had made the stars pale in comparison to her brilliance. I am here. I have planned everything out, they had once said to her. She had never doubted them for a second.    

             “No,” Hana said, clasping Marty’s hand tight in her own.

             I am watching over you.

             “It was fate.”