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edendaphne · 3 years

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“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 18

>>Click here to read on Ao3<<

>>Click here to read on Wattpad<<

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CHAPTER 18: AFFETUOSO

Music glossary:

Affetuoso: to perform with passion and emotion

**Chapter illustration by @corgi-likes-chat **

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(Mood Music: “Christofori’s Dream” - David Lanz)

Adrien’s eyelids fluttered open, a sleepy smile still present on his face. He breathed out a long, contented sigh, stretching his limbs out wide enough that they poked out of the bedcovers. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so well.

Last night, after Marinette awoke him from his most harrowing night terror to date, he’d fallen back asleep and something remarkable happened: for the second time in years, he’d actually had a pleasant dream. The only other time he hadn’t suffered from his usual nightmares ever since becoming Chat Noir was on the first night that he’d arrived at the Dupain-Cheng residence.

He tried to think back, wondering what might have caused this, not just last night, but back on that first day Marinette had brought him home. What did these two occurrences have in common?

His mouth quirked to the side and his brow furrowed, deep in thought, trying to remember. He wasn’t exactly in the best frame of mind when he’d arrived a couple of months back, given all that had happened when he ran away from his father; so it was no surprise that his memory of that night was hazy at best. Nevertheless, he hoped to find a correlation; if there was one, maybe he could figure out how to repeat it.

His thoughts were interrupted by a gentle hand sliding across his midsection. Disturbed by his movements, a smaller body rolled toward him, settling comfortably on his chest and breathing out a drowsy sigh.

He looked down and there she was: sweet, lovely Marinette; one of the dearest and most important people in his life. The raven-haired girl stirred, letting out a small whine; Adrien stilled, subconsciously holding his breath, not wanting to wake her and accidentally reveal his identity.

This became much harder when she reached around him, her fingers lightly skimming across his rib cage. His muscles tensed and he bit back a laugh; why did he have to be so darn ticklish?!

He readjusted himself, trying to shuffle out from underneath her; but she clinged to him like an overgrown barnacle, even in her unconscious state. I guess she’s a cuddler, he thought, and he couldn’t help but smile about how well that suited her.

It was still pretty dark in the room, as the sun hadn’t risen yet. He glanced over at the wall clock; he still had about an hour and a half before he had to report to work at the bakery, so he didn’t have to rush to get ready. Relieved, he sagged back down onto his pillow. He could relax for a little longer, he supposed.

Deciding to check his notifications while Marinette slept, he gingerly reached towards his nightstand to grab his phone, careful not to disturb her. He’d deactivated all his social media accounts since running away from home, so there weren’t very many notifications; there was a school-related email and a couple of late night funny memes from Nino.

Adrien checked the Ladyblog next. No news about any akumas this morning, thankfully. However, there were a few blurry snapshots of the previous night’s attack. He scrolled down for a bit, then stopped, his eyes popping open as he focused his attention on a particular photo.

He couldn’t suppress the lovestruck sigh that escaped his lips when he stared at a picture of Ladybug. His Lady was breathtaking, her eyes so ethereal, her smile utterly resplendent. She was indescribably beautiful, both inside and out and there was absolutely nothing he would change about her. He was hopelessly smitten, no doubt about it.

A few months ago, he would have berated himself for feeling this way about his mortal enemy. But his entire life had been turned upside down since then, and he wholeheartedly embraced this unexpected development.

The next photo was taken after the akuma was purified and the Miraculous Cure had set everything back to where it should be. Ladybug had seen that Alya was about to snap a photo, so she grabbed Chat and turned him around to face the camera, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. She grinned widely, and did a peace sign with her free hand. So cute.

He glanced over to his own face and instinctively grimaced. He was winking at the camera with a goofy, cheerful salute, not bothering to channel the suave, sophisticated mannerisms of a proper model that he’d incurred over the years. God, I’m so cringy, he thought.

Nevertheless, he saved the picture onto his phone. It was the first photo of them together like this, as opposed to impersonal ones taken by the media from afar, or during press releases and interviews.

It had only been posted a few hours ago, but already it had thousands of likes and comments. He didn’t dare look through those, however. Not since he first discovered the kinds of things people wrote about Chat Noir, both before and after his change in alliances. It was better to avoid those, lest he ruin his day reading about how much some people still hated him.

But he remembered Marinette’s words from the night before. She was right; he had to have hope, and believe that things would slowly get better. Attitude was everything.

Speaking of Marinette…

He looked down at his roommate once again. By this point, she’d slinked and climbed almost entirely on top of him, utilizing him like a mattress. His eyebrows scrunched together, and he wondered how in the world he’d be able to slip out of bed undetected.

All the stealth-based videogames I’ve ever played have prepared me for this moment. I got this!! he thought, hyping himself up.

Taking a deep breath in, he rolled over to his side, managing to slide Marinette’s ragdoll-like form back onto the mattress. She made a small noise and he froze, electricity crawling up the back of his neck. A few tense moments passed, and her stirring subsided, her breathing becoming slow and even once again. He exhaled, just now realizing he’d been holding his breath.

Freedom!! Adrien celebrated as he stood, stretching his arms high over his head, taking care not to hit the ceiling lights. His skin felt grimy with dried sweat from the night before; a shower was exactly what he needed right now. He tiptoed over to get a change of clothes from the dresser, giving the occasional glance towards the bed to make sure Marinette was still asleep.

As he made his way to the bathroom, he stopped by her side, a warm smile spreading across his face. He bent over and gave the top of her head a small kiss. Where would he be without her and her family? She and Sabine especially went out of their way to help him feel at home, to make him feel like he belonged, instead of treating him like a nuisance, or like some freeloader just taking up space. He loved them all so much; he vowed to himself to make it up to them someday.

He pulled the bedcovers up to Marinette’s shoulders so she wouldn’t miss the extra warmth too much, then made his way to the bathroom to start the day.

Marinette stirred, enveloped in softness and a familiar scent of spice and fresh rain. Eyes still closed, she extended her arm, reaching for the oversized cat pillow on her bed that she always liked to cuddle.

Her searching hand found something soft. Aha! She brought it closer, snuggling it tight, then began to get comfortable again. But then, her pillow started poking her cheek, over and over and over. The pillow’s poking only intensified when she tried squeezing it even harder. How rude!

Wait... what?

A single eyelid groggily slid open, meeting a small pair of eyes of a distinctive shade of green. A rather frazzled-looking Plagg stared back, his expression unamused from being squished between her and the pillow she was hugging.

“Sorry, Plagg,” she slurred sleepily as she pulled away to give him some space. “What are you doing here?”

He crossed his little arms, raising a brow. “I live here, remember?”

“But why are you in my room–– oh, wait…” she stopped, the memory of last night starting to rush back to her. This wasn’t her room; it was Chat’s. She’d slept in his room last night. And the bed she was lying in was his bed. These were his blankets and pillows, and they carried his scent. Heat rose to her face and a multitude of imaginary butterflies swarmed in her stomach as she realized that she’d actually spent the night with him, albeit under less than ideal circumstances.

And then a second realization dawned on her: Chat Noir was gone.

She sat up with a start, her head whipping back and forth to search for him. As she was about to panic, she heard the shower running in the en suite bathroom, punctuated by some cheerful humming. With a heavy, relieved sigh, she laid back down, careful not to squish the tiny cat god next to her.

“By the way, Little Bug,” Plagg murmured, meekly rubbing the back of his head. “Thanks for helping my kid last night.”

“Oh, of course, Plagg!” she replied. “I’m always happy to help however I can.”

He gave her a melancholy smile. “I just wish there was more I could’ve done. I tried waking him up myself, but he couldn’t hear me at all, no matter how hard I tried.” He sighed, twisting his mouth into a pained frown. “He doesn’t deserve this. He's already gone through so much.”

“Plagg, no, it’s okay! You did your best, and I’m sure Chat knows that too. I’m just glad I was able to get through to him. It was lucky that I happened to be downstairs at that time. Chat couldn’t ask for a better friend than you.”

Plagg grinned widely at her. “I always knew I liked you,” he remarked, scooting closer and nuzzling into her.

Marinette smiled back, returning the hug and kissing the top of his head, followed by providing him with some gentle scratches behind the ears. He let out a small, contented purr as he leaned into her hand.

After a few moments of hesitation, Plagg spoke again, “Little Bug, there’s... something else you need to know.”

They pulled apart, and Marinette eyed him with trepidation. “What is it?”

“It was too dark, so you didn’t see it, but–” he said with a grim tone in his voice, “–I need to let you know what really happened last night.”

“Huh?” Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “What do you mean? I know he said his night terrors aren’t usually this bad, but was there something else?”

A dark look flickered on Plagg’s face. “Hawkmoth tried to akumatize him last night.”

Marinette felt like she’d been dropped into a vat of ice water. “W- WHAT?!” she sputtered. “B-but how is that possible?! Akumatized?? He was asleep! Hawkmoth can’t akumatize people who are unconscious!!” She paused, pondering the possibility. “Right…?”

“It’s tricky, but not impossible,” Plagg replied. “Hawkmoth knows about Chat Noir’s nightmares, so he must’ve sensed his opportunity and finally taken it last night.”

Marinette brought a hand to her temple in disbelief.

Plagg continued, “I don’t know why he decided to try it now, instead of when he first ran away. And what if–” he gulped, and his voice quavered slightly as he continued, unable to conceal his fear, “What if he tries it again? What if he tries it every night?”

“No… he wouldn’t… he can’t!!” Marinette cried, staring at the bathroom door, her mind racing a million miles a minute. She clenched her fists as she tried not to give into the feelings of dismay and anxiety that were clawing away at her. “Plagg… What do we do?! Hawkmoth’s patterns seem to be getting more erratic and desperate recently. Is he under some kind of deadline? Why is he doing this??”

“I can think of a couple of reasons,” Tikki answered from across the room.

Marinette practically leaped off the bed in surprise due to Tikki’s abrupt entrance. “Tikki!” she exclaimed.

The brightly colored kwami hovered towards them and elaborated, “Firstly, as Chat grows older, his powers will continue to get stronger, as will yours, so you’ll be more difficult for Hawkmoth to defeat as time goes on. Secondly, I think the effects of misusing the butterfly miraculous must be catching up to him as well. His desperation suggests that maybe he thinks he’s running out of time.”

“Out of time? What do you mean?” Marinette asked, confused.

Plagg sighed. “It’s his health,” he answered. "He wasn’t doing very well even before we left. Slowly but steadily, it’s been getting worse for a while.” He turned to face Tikki. “You think Hawkmoth believes that he’s gonna… you know... soon?”

Tikki shrugged in response, her expression blank.

“Oh… I see,” Marinette said, her voice almost a whisper.

Her mind raced, a torrent of emotions crashing into her simultaneously, like a rowboat in a tempest, slamming into a cliffside without respite.

She wasn’t sure how to feel about this new information. Her chest felt tight, like it did when she wanted to cry. Should she feel happy or sad that her mortal enemy was getting sicker and sicker, to the point where his life was potentially in danger? Was it okay to feel–dare she say it– relieved?

What was she supposed to think? As a hero, was it more important to be merciful, or was it more important to be just? Her heart felt like it was being pulled in two completely opposite directions. Despite hating the man with every fiber of her being, part of her thought that maybe dying was too extreme a punishment. And yet, at the same time, the hurt, embittered part of herself thought that maybe dying would be too easy, like he was getting let off the hook instead of being forced to acknowledge his wrongs and feel remorse for the horrible things he’d done.

For years, she’d dreamed about the day when Hawkmoth would be defeated and his miraculous confiscated. It was supposed to be a happy time, full of rejoicing and excitement. But she’d never considered the possibility that Hawkmoth would be defeated by an entirely different force, one that she had no say in how or when it happened. It didn’t feel fair. She hated feeling this powerless.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a brief tug at her sleeve. She looked down at Tikki, who motioned towards the bathroom with a small nod. It was then that she noticed the noise–or rather– the absence of it, which could only mean one thing: Chat Noir had finished his shower, and he’d be coming out of the bathroom any minute now.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Tikki whispered.

Marinette nodded. She turned to Plagg and whispered, “We’ll talk more later. I’ll call Master Fu later today and see if he has any advice.”

“M’kay. See ya,” he replied with a small wave. “Bye, Sugarcube.”

Tikki looked back and gave him a reassuring smile, then followed Marinette out the door.

Plagg hovered towards the windowsill while he waited for his charge, plopping down with a heavy sigh. He leaned against the window, taking in the many colors of the dawn sky, which looked almost too bright and vibrant for his liking. How dare the heavens look so beautiful while he felt so miserable inside? The day hadn’t even really started, and yet the only thing he wanted to do was to just crawl back into bed. He dearly hoped that the heavy, uneasy feeling in his gut would go away soon.

(A short while later)

Work at the bakery had been lively and hectic today; so much so that Chat Noir had to be reminded when his shift was over and that he needed to head to school. He gave Sabine a parting hug, the latter thanking him for his hard work and giving him some encouraging words as she helped dust the flour off his suit and hair.

Chat retrieved his cloak from a coat hanger by the door and stepped into the stairwell that led to the living quarters, so that he could retrieve his school supplies and exit through Marinette’s balcony trap door as he normally did. That was definitely one of the plus sides of working in the kitchen while transformed; he could wear his school outfit underneath and not require a change of clothes or a shower when he was through. He could merely detransform and be good as new.

As he ascended up the stairs, he heard a familiar deep voice call out to him from below. Chat froze, then turned around, trying to keep his nerves under control.

“Could I speak with you for a minute?” Tom asked.

Uh-oh.

“O-of course, Mr. Dupain,” Chat replied, trying to keep his voice even despite his nerves.

Tom’s face was mostly neutral, but his body was rigid and there was a hint of gloom in his eyes. Chat did his best not to cringe as he stood in front of the much taller man who, despite not being a superhero, looked like he could toss him clear to the Eiffel Tower if he felt like it. To prevent himself from fidgeting, Chat finally opted to stick his hands inside his pockets.

“What is it, sir? D-did I do something wrong?” he asked. “I was running a bit late, so I apologize if I didn’t put something back in the right spot. O-or did I mess up an order?? I’m sorry, I can go back and fix… whatever it is!”

“No, everything’s fine; it’s something else,” he answered, and Chat felt the stiffness in his shoulders ease a tiny bit.

However, it came back full force when Tom didn’t say anything else. Chat’s heartbeat sped up as they stood face to face in silence, unsure of the route this conversation was about to take.

What else could he be in trouble for? Did he find out Marinette had fallen asleep in his bedroom yesterday? Oh no… Did Tom think he and Marinette had… done something unseemly together last night?! Was he getting kicked out of the house?? His mind raced and his chest thumped, and he prepared himself to beg on his knees for forgiveness if need be.

A few agonizingly long and awkward seconds later, Tom spoke again, “Chat Noir… I wanted to apologize to you.”

“Oh, I see. Wait… WHAT?!?” Chat felt like someone had yanked the carpet out from underneath him. “Apologize?? What for?”

Tom lifted his arm to rub the back of his head, his entire posture taut as a bowstring. “We didn’t really get off on the right foot, you and I. You’ve been nothing but cordial and polite, and all I’ve done since you arrived is give you the cold shoulder, and for that I’m truly sorry. I wanted to clear the air and start over, if that’s okay with you.”

“Mr. Dupain! N-no, please, it’s okay!” Chat sputtered, his hands waving frantically. “I totally understand why you would have reservations about me living here, o-or even interacting with you guys at all! They’re totally justified concerns! I mean, up until a few months ago, I was still working with Hawkmoth; so the fact that you even allowed me into your home at all is incredibly kind of you! I’ve never felt any ill will towards you, I swear! You were just doing what any good father would––” he trailed off, trying to keep the melancholy out of his voice, “–would do.”

Tom winced and sighed heavily, crossing his arms. “That’s exactly my point, though. It may have been justified at first, but that was back then . I tolerated you for the sake of my wife and daughter, but I was always suspicious. I should’ve given you a chance instead of just judging you for no reason, especially after all this time. So I wanted to try to make it up to you.”

It was then that Tom brought something shiny out of his shirt pocket. It was an adorable little keychain shaped like a croissant. But wait… no, it wasn’t just a keychain, Chat realized. There was a key dangling on the end. A house key. Tom handed it over, doing his best to try to conceal a timid smile.

Chat gaped at him, reeling from what was happening. “I… I don’t know what to say. That is so generous of you! Thank you, Mr. Dupain,” he replied meekly, staring into his hands at the key. HIS key.

He felt the man’s large hand pat him on the shoulder and Chat looked up, meeting his soft, forest green eyes. “Please, call me Tom.”

Chat had to consciously fight the urge to let his jaw drop. If he wasn’t dreaming last night with Ladybug’s revelation, he was surely dreaming now. “Y-yes, sir! Uhh, Mr. Tom, sir. Uhh, I mean…” he stammered, still not recovered from having been gobsmacked out of nowhere.

The older man gave out a hearty laugh. “Just Tom. And please, if there’s anything you need, just say the word. Even if it’s just someone to lend an ear. You’ve got a good heart despite the bad hand that’s been dealt to you, and you have so much potential. We’re happy to have you in our family, even if you’re only here temporarily. Just know you’ll always have a home here with us.”

Chat’s heart swelled with affection, so full that it felt like it might burst, and his eyesight became blurry with unshed tears. He threw his arms around the giant man in front of him, someone who he never thought would fully accept him, squeezing hard.

“Thank you, Tom! Thank you so much, I’m just–” he let out a shuddering sigh then continued, voice cracking, “–thank you.”

Tom squeezed back firmly, giving him an affectionate pat. Failing to hide a sniffle, he then added, “I should let you get going, I don’t wanna make you late for school.” The pair pulled apart, and Tom ruffled Chat’s hair. “Be safe out there, kiddo.”

After saying their goodbyes, Chat bounded up the stairs, practically floating with glee. He’d missed this feeling; the feeling of being part of a family. As he emerged onto the rooftop balcony, he took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air, his heart full of excitement and hope.

He arrived at the school in high spirits and a huge grin on his face. He detransformed in a discreet location and practically skipped to the school’s entrance; then he entered the campus, carefree, joyful, and blissfully unaware of the dark eyes that followed him inside.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Enemies AU #Marinette Dupain Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Chat Noir #Ladybug #Ladynoir #enemies to lovers #fanfiction #Discordant Sonata #ML AU #aged up #Eden writes #art by others #Fanfic art

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babytaes · 3 years

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afterglow

➳ summary: You, too, lived in a colorless world, trying to connect with it. How long would you have to wait for that one to brighten it up and let you see the real world?

❥ pairing: wonwoo x female reader

❥ genre: angst, fluff, kinda soulmate au.....?

❥ word count: 7k (sorry, mans is my bias and I had to ;)

❥ warning: mentions of death.

➳ part of the song series

↳ Imagine a world like that,

We go like up 'til I'm 'sleep on your chest

Love how my face fits so good in your neck

You had a twin brother who was everything to you. Everything was always you two, from the endless amounts of laughter to the sneaky efforts to take Christmas cookies early in the morning.

With him, everything seems to be so colorful; in your lifetime, everyone was given a companion who may be a friend, sibling, or lover. It was simply something that you treasured. As a result, the alternatives were numerous.

You had no idea how much his life meant to you. He was your second half, and now you'd been split in half, with one gone and the other remaining.

Months passed, and your relationship with him became increasingly dimmer and dimmer. The brilliant hues faded in and out, with black and white patches becoming more prominent.

That awful day, unfortunately, was the last time you saw color. His light had faded from the world, and all that was left was black and white.

With him gone, your entire life seemed pointless, even your day-to-day existence. No splash of color to brighten things up.

“Y/N, I'll never forget you, big sister. Thank you for the enjoyable and considerate memories, and don't let this stunt your growth, please do that for me. As the beeper went off, he began to cough incessantly.

“Helpppp anyone.” As your parents draw you back into their arms, you hear many doctors rush into the room.

There was nothing they could do; his hue had vanished from this world. When you opened your tear-streaked eyes and examined your hands, you noticed that the formerly vivid cream palms had turned gray.

As if all colors were abruptly bleached out of the world, revealing a universe of whiteness—the rainbow, flowers, trees, and art, everything freshly bleached and pearled. The last vestige of color had vanished from your life, and you had been broken since then, heartbroken over the loss of your dearest friend.

“Y/n, hey you're good, we could use your help.” As you glanced to the side, you noticed that one of your employees had just spilled some water from the mop bucket.

As you approach their side, you assist them in mopping up the mess while sweeping aimlessly across the floor, making sure to get every spot. Due to your new life of no color it reflected on your life emotionally.

As the days passed, you became increasingly depressed and unmotivated. There wasn't a single day when you didn't feel mopey or lonely. It wasn't like anyone could help me; it was just the challenge of living a life without color.

Although you sincerely desired to overcome this phase of your life and simply find the right person to fill that void, life did not work in your favor at the time. Everyone around you seemed to be looking for or had already found their "person."

All you wanted was to find the person who could restore your hope and love, which had been taken away when your brother died. Your parents did everything they could to assist you, including setting you up on strange and ineffective dates that just added to your unhappiness.

Nobody could replace that color that your brother provided for you, or maybe someone could?

"I'm off," you remarked as you pulled off your apron and clocked out in the back. As you stepped out the door, you heard a flurry of goodbyes before closing it behind you.

The world never shifted when the clock struck five.

As you strolled down the crowded streets, the sky before and above you remained grey, never letting up that cloak of shade. A melodious music gradually pours into your ears as you go down the bustling sidewalk.

You follow the dazzling yet tranquil sound of the guitar aimlessly as you imagine music notes flying through the fall air. You cautiously open your tired eyes and spot the crowd to figure out where these tunes are coming from.

Looking up, you spotted a swarm encircling a male, but you couldn't tell who it was. However, it was the music that drew you in; you'd heard that melody before. Even if you weren't musically inclined, you could hear that tune anywhere.

It was his, the one he wrote for you.

You dashed outside to see your brother strumming a tune on the grass with his guitar. Your brother possessed a talent for music. It is a condition that many people are born with, and you were fortunate that your brother was one of them.

He didn't go a day without making up or humming something he'd learned. It was frustrating to hear it every day, but it was still lovely to witness his enthusiasm for it.

“Hey, what are you cooking up this time?” As he began to strum the guitar, he turned around and grinned at you. You couldn't understand what he was mumbling, but it sounded lovely as his fingers casually slid across the strings.

“I don't have the lyrics yet, but I'm sure they'll come. You laughed and nudged his shoulder.

“Just don’t go play at 3 in the morning. Okay?”

“It's not my fault that's typically when the inspiration comes,” he grumbled as he rolled his eyes.

As you raced away from him, you swiftly took his guitar, saying, "Well, I guess that inspiration will have to wait." He leapt from his seat and dashed towards you, yelling your name.

You had no idea that would be his final song; you regret not listening to the finished product; you never knew if he finished it. However, when you got closer to the enticing sound, you observed a young man strumming a guitar, and your ears perked up.

A slender man with long fingers and a quirky side smile, perhaps a musician, delicately touched a golden acoustic guitar, playing her ever so elegantly. You stand there, enthralled by the song, as his hands strum and tug the steel strings of the guitar. You take a cautious step closer to him in order to get a better look.

Allowing the music to take control of your body, you take a deep breath and allow an ounce of hope to creep in. From miles away, the formerly lovely and alive girl could be seen racing to you as you opened your arms to her.

You tried desperately to reach her before she vanished into thin air. The glint had disappeared. As you slowly open your eyes, you notice the man stop playing and gazes up at the audience.

As a smile crept across your face, the edges of your lips began to curl up. You'd forgotten what a smile looked like; you hadn't seen one in a long time, and it just felt natural. Even though he was gone, you could sense his presence. As you began to back away from the mob, tears began to flow freely from your eyes.

As you faded from his view and moved away from the crowd, the boy cast a peek at you. You swear you saw a glimpse of color rushing through your orbs, even if it was just for a split second. You couldn't tell if this was a joke or a new experience for you because you were more terrified than excited.

Could you trust that vision? Would they leave your life like he once did or would they stay? (IT)

Although you wanted to stay and figure it out you had somewhere to be and you didn’t want anyone to waste that special time.

(1 hour later)

Opening the rusted gate and looking at the wrought iron fences sends shivers down your spine as you are whisked back to that tragic day.

As you headed towards the pit, a crack formed in your heart. As they lowered his casket into the black abyss, the steady steps of feet carried it there. Countless shadowy figures form a procession, speaking in unison to pay their respects to the one you cherish. Your inner essence is corrupted by despair, and your heart bleeds like a river inside. Nothing could ever make you feel better.

As they began to fill the hole with dirt, tears welled up in your eyes, prompting you to lower your head. He didn't want you to be sad; he knew his time was coming to an end, yet he felt so safe in his final days.

He wasn't going to abandon you; he'd promised you that he'd left you something to aid you along the path. Even if that were the case, you never discovered it after four years. You rummaged through his room and tore it apart.

You quickly recognized that he was either joking or that the drug had taken effect in his brain and he was talking gibberish. In any case, you made a pledge to visit his grave every day from that day forward to keep him company and to keep yourself sane.

---

Clutching onto your bag, the leaves crunched beneath your feet as you peered about. You see specks of people strewn throughout the cemetery as you hear some speak in low whispers. It didn't take you long to find his gravestone.

You noticed the dead flowers drooping over as you took them out of their vase beside the tomb. Replacing them always brought joy to your heart as the sight of a fresh bouquet of flowers brightened the somber ambiance, which contrasted with the mold-infested tomb.

Taking out your cleaning supplies and speaker, you start working on his tomb while listening to his favorite music. As you hummed along with the song, your soft-bristle brush softly scrubbed the headstone in an orbital motion from bottom to top, carefully avoiding the fissures.

As you finished the soap, you began to rinse the stone as dirt and debris began to fall off the tomb. Although you couldn't determine if everything was off, you could plainly see the phrases and symbols, which was a good hint to stop cleaning everything off.

You wanted to do more for him and not leave any dirt on the surface. But because everything was gray, you couldn't tell, which made you sulk as you put down your brush. As you check the clock on your phone, you exhale a sigh of relief.

7:23p.m

Looking around, you noticed the stragglers had dispersed, leaving you alone as you gazed up at the sky.

“I hope the sunset looks beautiful today, I do miss it.”

The late evening sunset was the one thing you missed more than your brother; you had always admired how everything just flowed and fit together in the evening sky. It's almost as if someone began painting and simply let their hand float through the air.

As you turned to face his tomb, another smile appeared on your face, prompting you to go into your bag for something. As you placed down a cup for you and him, you chuckled at the bottle revealed beneath the sky.

“Lucas, here's to another day. It's been difficult in recent years, but today was a good day. I sensed your presence through the music of some random person; it was strange, but I'm glad I was there to see it. So thank you,” you say, raising your shot glass in the air and taking a sip.

As you heard a voice, you wiped a stray tear from your face.

“I'm sorry for bothering you.”

“Shit, what the hell,” you cursed the dark figure, startled and terrified. Who is there? As you squint your eyes at him, a male emerges from the shadows.

It's him.

----

You cough as you stand up and face the nameless man, he extends his hand as his glasses slide down his narrow nose, “Hi I’m Wonwoo.”

You take his hand in yours and shake it slowly, his grip firm until you let go.

“Hi..wonwoo? “I'm Y/n.” As the boy grinned at you, your voice was barely audible.

He takes a careful step alongside you and sits down close to your brother's grave, placing a case beside him. As you enlarged your eyes and sat down next to him, still observing him, the atmosphere felt reassuring but strange.

“I apologize for startling you; I didn't know that you were there. I’m not sure if your brother mentioned me but I was his friend, we used to write songs together.” As he turned to face you, you noticed the tall man attempting to cross his legs.

You shook your head as you began to gather your belongings, unsure of who this man was. For all you knew, he may be lying to you, so you needed to get out of there as soon as possible. You rose up and began walking away after securing the zipper on your backpack.

“Wait, you don’t have to leave. I can come back another time. I am truly sorry if I interrupted anything."

“No, it's fine,” you say with a shake of your head and outstretched hands.

“Are you sure?”

You walk away again, nodding your head as you hear his voice and a familiar tune.

You came to a halt in your tracks as you slowly turned around to face the boy after hearing a faint melody. As your ears perked up, you heard a low voice.

‘I stand still before you before me. I’m okay, not okay..” The lyrics faded out as you started to find your bearings again as you made your way out of the cemetery. As you stepped toward the road, you strapped your bag on, making sure you had everything you needed.

A girl out on a walk is something you can see every day, yet you were unique. You walked as if you and the road had reached an agreement, as if the concrete was more than eager to support your feet.

The road understood you.

*Ping*

The light of your phone lit up as you clicked on the message.

Mom: Hey sweetie, I dropped off some food at your apartment and did some tidying up. Get home safety.

You: Thanks mom.

Her message brought back memories of days when you and her would cook together and simply bond over the end result. You missed it. Because you live in different places, you don't get to see your parents very frequently, yet they always made time for you.

I wish you could do the same; home is just too much for you to stomach, and you'd rather avoid it.

You reach the corner street after a few more steps, ready to begin your one-mile trek home. As you look back after exhaling a sigh, you hear rumbling on your feet. An automobile approached you, its bright headlights blazing directly at you.

You shifted to the side, squinting your eyes at the sight, and wonwoo greeted you again before you realized it. He grinned at you with his dazzling whites as he bent his head down.

what is with this guy?

Hey, hop in, I'll give you a ride. It's becoming late, and I don't want you walking through here.” As you took a step back, wary of the stranger, he moved his hand closer to you.

“Um.. No-no I’m okay. However, thank you.” As you heard his engine trailing behind you, you began to walk faster. He followed you for a few seconds longer before you came to a complete halt and stared at him.

Through the windshield, you could see him smirk as he waved his hand to you.

“It'll be a lot faster, and if you're worried I'll kidnap you or anything, don't fret. I'm allergic to cats, and I'm a cat person myself. As a result, I assure you that I will not harm you. I just wanted to help a friend.” You moved over to his car, smiled a little, and hopped in, securing yourself with your seatbelt.

“If you do anything I have some bleach and I’m not afraid to use it,” he chuckled at you as he started the car and proceeded to exit the cemetery.

“You’re funny.”

As you gave wonwoo your address he proceeded to drive out of the rural neighborhood as you put your head on the window. You didn't realize it at the time, but you could feel his penetrating glances.

The car was quiet as the low sounds of music vibrated through the car. When you weren't driving, car journeys were the best since they enabled your mind to fantasize and paint over the enormous landscape you were seeing. That haven you built in your imagination calms you and makes you feel protected. The place where you may get away from reality.

As soon as your eyes close for the night, you hear him humming a familiar tune. Rather than remaining silent, you begin a conversation with him, inquiring as to how he learned the song.

“So how did you meet Lucas?” As he laughed, he cast a peek at you.

“Well, I met him at a college party a long time ago and discovered he makes music, so we used to meet up at a friend's studio and just create.” You lightly chuckled as a tear fell down your face as you nodded your head.

It was good to hear other people talk about your other half; it was almost as if he was there with you right now.

You were worried when he gave you brief glances since his eyes were off the road, but as he spoke, you felt protected because he spoke highly of your brother.

“Well, I'm not sure if he mentioned you, but the last song we were working on was one he wrote for you, and he said it was a gift.” As you turned to face him after hearing that final statement, your eyes widened.

“He—he said those exact words, a gift?”

As he rounded the corner and approached your apartment complex building, he shook his head. You could see his shoulder resting on the window sill as he put the car in park.

You hesitantly walk out of the car, stuttering as you gather your belongings, and turn to face him.

“Thank you for the ride; did Lucas mention anything else about the song?” “He wasn't quite finished with it, but he did give me and my other friend some crucial stuff to get it done,” he said as you pressed your face closer to the window.

Your heart began to race as you realized that things were beginning to turn around for you; perhaps this wonwoo boy was destined to be in your life. Lucas' way of demonstrating that he took great care of you.

“Would you like to work on it together sometime?”

Inside, it felt as if the creatures were finally waking up from their rehabilitation and making their way into the real world. Even if it took a while, this new form of relief made you feel alive again. You were adamant about working more to reclaim your color.

In some way, wonwoo was the key to it all.

“Yes, a hundred times yes,” you answered, smiling like a kid in a candy store as you handed him your phone. “Just let me know when you're free.”

Wonwoo returned your phone to you, which you joyfully accepted and placed in your pocket. As you walked to your door, you waved your hand at him and cried out to him one final time.

“Thank you”

“For what?” As you entered the flat and locked the door behind you, you waved your hand at him. You let out a sigh and shake your head as you slid down to the floor.

“What a day”

---

(4 weeks later)

It seemed like you and wonwoo had entered a very unique connection in the last few weeks. He made every effort not to cross any boundaries, both physically and emotionally. Regardless of the fact that you were his closest friend's sister, he was always respectful to you.

Even if that is what he sees from his perspective, you felt more alive when you were with him. Although you could still see gray and couldn't bask in all of his glory, it gave you hope that one day, whenever that time came, you'd be able to see him and everything else.

That was something you lacked previously: hope. Everyone around you including your parents could see a significant change in your life.

“Hey, honey, how's it going at work?” Before taking your purse, your mother kissed your cheek and opened the door for you.

As you met her at your old house, a smile emerged on your face. It was your first visit home in a while, and seeing you there brought joy to their hearts, despite the difficult years you've had.

“Everything has been going well, and I just wanted to drop by and see how you're doing. I miss seeing you and dad.”

“Is that my beautiful daughter, am I seeing things right?” your father exclaimed as he emerged from the back. As a tear trickled down your cheek, you watched as he raced over to you and hugged you.

As he stared at your face and admired it, the hue in front of you remained gray.

“Such lovely brown eyes," It pained your soul that you couldn't remember what they looked like since gray dulled everything and made you forget.

“Thank you, dad, but instead of fawning me, let's play some games. Just because life is bleak doesn't mean I can't be your ass at Monopoly.”

Your mother, gasping at your remark, watched from the back, her eyes welling up with tears as she marveled at a sight she hadn't seen in a long time.

“Moooom, don't start sobbing or dad will start crying,” you said as you turned around.

She comes over to your side and wraps you and your father in a hug, sandwiching you between them. It felt good because you were missing these times with your folks. You couldn't stay at home when your brother died; you had to leave and get away. Everything was just too much for you as things started to remind you of him.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“I'm really proud of you for coming here and having the confidence to do so. I understand how difficult it must be for you, but thank you.” Through the loud sniffles between you all, you started to feel warm as you wiped your tears.

“All right, no more crying; let's get down to business.” You dashed over to the couch and snatched up Monopoly from the board game box, motioning for them to join you. They chuckled as you began to pull everything out as they made their way over.

As loud yells and laughter echoed out throughout the home, the night was fresh and enjoyable. There were times when you were terrified you'd lose, but you couldn't let your champion status lapse.

Your mother said, "Noo, you're cheating."

“No, I'm not; there's a house there, and you need to pay up or I'll put you in jail.” Between the two, your father snickers and keeps his mouth shut. He was well aware of the rules.

“All right, but that wasn't there before.”

With a chuckle, you shook your head and held out your hand, saying, "excuses excuses."

As you turned off your alarm, it rang at 8:00 p.m. You wouldn't have realized the difference between night and day if it hadn't been for alarm clocks. You jumped up in triumph after placing one more piece on the board.

“And that's why I remain Monopoly's ruler.”

You witnessed your parents give up as they lifted their hands in surrender. They both remark, "Fine, you win," as they begin to clean up the mess. Taking the stray cups and bowls from the tables you set them in the sink as you turned to watch your parents.

It's been a long time since you've been back here, and you've certainly missed the atmosphere. Lucas wouldn't want me to miss out on this opportunity.

“Why don't I come on weekends and bring back board game nights?” As your parents turned back, you uttered, "Next time, I'll bring a friend."

“Oh, it would be wonderful; the more the better.”

As you walked back over to them, you hugged them as they kissed your head.

“You go, we'll take care of this; the drive back is long,” your father remarked as he took your bag and handed it to you.

“Thank you guys, and I love you and the night we just had.” As you approached the door, you waved goodbye before closing it.

“No thank you, love,” your mother said as she and your father watched you leave the home and get into your car.

After one last look at the house, you back out of the driveway and go down the street, looking forward to the day ahead.

Studio day!

You yawn as your body startles you up after taking a deep breath of fresh air. As you slowly open your eyes and look out the window, you breathe a sigh of relief. Something felt different. The chirping of the birds outside made you feel cheerful, not sad.

As your vision remained a little lighter, you began to blink your eyes faster. It wasn't your typical gray morning, and you thought it was growing lighter. The gray was gradually dissipating. You grinned as you considered your color returning.

What prompted this?

It didn't matter because today was dedicated to finishing your song; you, wonwoo, and his friend Mingyu had completed all but the title. You stretch one more time before heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

When you get to the mirror, you take a look at yourself. The person in front of you had radically transformed; she had forgotten about her flaws and insecurities, and her heart now held more love. This woman didn't pick apart everything that was wrong with her; instead, she supported herself.

She was unrecognizable, and the old girl in the mirror was finally slipping away. You began to smile more frequently and laugh a little more, and the air around you became warmer rather than frigid. Someone's love had seeped into her heart and begun to unfreeze its hardness.

And that person was wonwoo, which you didn't realize until you looked in the mirror. If you've observed it, chances are that others have as well. And you were grateful for his help in getting you out of that gloomy situation. You were able to regain your trust and begin letting people in again, which made you pleased.

Lucas would be incredibly proud of you, and you didn't want to disappoint him again. You intended to honor his memory and keep him alive in your heart, rather than allowing the past to plague you and prevent you from living your life.

He would have wanted that.

As you stepped inside, you turned on the shower and stripped off your clothing. You had to find a method to repay wonwoo for his compassion. You would not have gotten this far without him and his musical gift, and you were grateful for him.

"I could take him to our place," you offer as you turn off the water and grab a towel from the shower.

“Yeah he would like that.”

----

Work seemed to fly by as your mind raced at a hundred miles per hour. You had everything planned out and had recruited the support of your parents to help you set up.

Your manager tapped your shoulder and asked, "Hey y/n, you okay?" As you dropped the pencil, you flinched.

“Oh sorry, just spacing out.” He shook his head as he spoke out, “For the rest of your shift you can take off if you want, we’re going to close earlier than usual. If you're leaving, clean out the coffee machine and be on your way.”

You enlarged your eyes as your jaw dropped, and you raced into his arms, squeezing him tightly. Your boss chuckled awkwardly as he gently pushed you away from him. For some reason, everything seemed to be working in your favor today. As you rush to get ready, you begin working on the machine, your smile never leaving your face.

You sped to the back room, clocking out and placing your apron into your locker, as you were done in no time. As you walked to the front, you waved goodbye to your manager before heading to your car in the parking area.

“What's the matter with her? That's the first time I've ever seen her that happy. Hmm”

And with that you were on your way to your parents house as you sent a quick text to wonwoo. As you grinned as you placed your phone in the dash holder, you came to a stop light.

You: Hey cancel today's session, I have a place to go to. It may also provide us with better title recommendations. You down??

Wonwoo:) Yes, that sounds excellent; the studio can become claustrophobic. Send me the address and a time frame for my arrival.

You: *address name*. Bring your guitar and meet there in 2 hours.

Wonwoo:) Oh okay. Can’t wait to see you there!

(read 5:45 p.m.)

Even though you weren’t nervous you wanted everything to be special, wonwoo deserved it for all that he has done for you in the past weeks.

You let yourself go as you blast songs down the road, pressing play on your playlist. You didn't notice it at first, but the color was gently sneaking in as you drove around. As creams and beige colors drifted in and out, the outsides of your eyes began to lift.

As you turned off the headlights and opened the door, it didn't take long for you to arrive at your destination. You smiled as you got your belongings from the car and made your way up the hill, finding your parents already set up.

You drop your belongings on the blanket and walk up to hug them, saying, "Hey guys." As they begin to chat with you, they embrace you in a friendly hug.

“So we set up all of the essential elements, such as lighting, a seating area, and refreshments in the cooler and basket.” As she began to indicate the various components, your mother explained. As she brought you around the hill to the tree, she took your hand in hers.

“You remember when you and Lucas did this?” You laugh as you remember that day as you place your palm on the antique carving.

-- “Noo I'd like to go first; you always go first.” You sighed as Lucas took up the knife and began carving his name into the tree.

“You better not cry and tell mom,” he remarked, turning to face you and seeing your glum demeanor. As you passed past him, you stood up straighter, rolling your eyes at him and snatching the knife from his grip.

“I'm not a baby like you,” you say. As he huffed and hurried toward mom, you heard him scoff.

“Mommmm y/n referring to me as a baby. And I'm not one of them. You stood there watching as he stomped his foot and landed on Mom's lap. Your father chuckles, rubbing his back and shaking his head at his wife.

As you return to the blanket, you cross your arms and say, "Well, then, quit acting like one."

That erupted in an outburst as he started to whine on mommy lap.

He did, in fact, act like a baby. Wiping a tear from your eyes as you chuckle, you hold your mother closer as you kiss her on the forehead.

“Hey we have an hour left before wonwoo get here, I'm going to head to the house to clean up. If he arrives early, keep him entertained.” As she watches you descend the hill, your mother shakes her head.

As you pull out of the parking lot, you put your foot down on the accelerator and drive over to your parents' house.

(45 minutes later)

Wonwoo approaches the destination, looking out the windshield as he spots some lights on the hill. As he steps out of the automobile, he notices two people moving around. He smiles as he collects his guitar from the rear and walks up the hill, noting the serene atmosphere.

“Those should go over by the tree and make sure they don't fall.” Wonwoo enters the place, his eyes widening. Fluorescent bulbs fanned out along the tops of the trees, each with a different picture on it, surrounding him.

As he looks down, he notices a blanket with a speaker playing music and the champagne.

Your parents finally turn around, gasping, when your mother rushes over to welcome him, saying, "Forgive us, we didn't hear anything, you must be wonwoo." That's y/n father over there, and I'm y/n mother.” As she introduces you to your father, she smiles and gives you a motherly look.

On this magnificent evening, only a few minutes had passed when you approached the hill once more. You take a brief glance in the mirror before applying some Chapstick. Rubbing it in you open the door as you look up on the hill, you hear conversations as you panic up the hill.

“So this is y/n, she was quite the messy twin when she was a baby-”

“What are you doing, Mom?” You walk over to her, ashamed, and place yourself between you and wonwoo, speaking quietly to her.

“I said to entertain him not embarrass me.”

“Oh, you're overthinking things; did you know he's friends with Lucas?” You chuckle as you grab your father and mother and begin bickering as you force them out of the location. As they descend the slope, they wave goodbye to you and wonwoo.

Taking one look at him, you notice his amusing state; he was cheesing so hard that his rosy cheeks were visible.

“Sorry about them.”

“It's fine; all parents do it.” They simply adore you.” You cross your legs and shake your head as you sit on the blanket, passing him a wine cup.

“To another wonderful day and a wonderful friendship.” Wonwoo takes out the champagne from the cooler as he opens it and sprays the excess in front of you.

“Ahh, you're spilling it” As you giggle at his action, the extra juice pours on your face. You reach for a napkin to wipe the wetness off your face as he takes one in front of you.

“Here, let me take care of it.” He leans in closer as he wipes the liquid from your face before resuming his seat. As your stomach begins to become a #1 gymnast, that simple action sends you spiraling.

“Th-thanks”

He smiles as he pours you a drink for both of you, and as he does so, you grab his guitar box and pry it open, admiring the golden beauty inside. Picking it up, you begin strumming a few chords of the nameless song while moving your head to the beat.

“Wow, you're actually pretty good.”

“I did have a good teacher, Lucas taught me a few things, but I only recall a few chords, so it may become irritating after a while.”

Wonwoo hands you the glass as you take it in your hand, and as you take a sip of the bubbly drink, you hand him the guitar.

As you take another sip, your spirits lift as you stare out at the scenery in front of you. You hear wonwoo begin to play the tune while you stare off towards the colorless world.

“Ruinous imagination consumes me. Makes me dream sweeter dreams, I close my eyes but thoughts of you. Bring noisy night, to you & me, real and dreamy.”

You sway back and forth as his voice soothes your body, his palm brushing over the guitar while his eyelids close, taking in the lyrics.

As you look up at him, you say, "Thank you." It's unavoidable, but tears stream down your face with no attempt to wipe them away.

“Th-thank you foreverythingyouhave-“ you say quickly and brokenly.

“Hey hey, calm down, I can't understand what you're saying,” he says as he scoots over to you and pats your shoulder. You both laugh as you start over, this time with more poise.

“I wanted to express my gratitude to you for genuinely improving my life. You probably don't know, but my relationship with Lucas was incredible; we were never apart, and when he passed, I couldn't live without him. I've struck rock bottom a few times and done some unfathomable things that I'm ashamed of, and I'm sincerely grateful that I've survived another day.”

Wonwoo drew you into a hug and caressed your back as he ceased patting your shoulder. As you sob into his shoulder, the tears begin to flow again.

“Sorry for interrupting, but it seemed like you needed one,” he says as you continue, releasing leave of you.

“To put it simply, you have brought me so much joy and optimism that I am overwhelmed. It's not the same without Lucas, but I'm grateful you entered my life at this point. So thank you; I don't know how to express my gratitude.”

You come to a halt as he looks at you through his round spectacles, and as you become concerned, you begin to look down.

“Sorry if I just spewed all that out.”

“No, it's fine.” I truly appreciate it, and I'm glad I was able to restore a sense of hope in your life. I may not be Lucas, but I will do my best to pay tribute to his memory.

You smile as you feel a wave of self-assurance and an overpowering sensation of bravery wash over you.

When you bring wonwoo closer to you and kiss him on the lips, everything inside of you turns on, and your body begins to feel alive again, exactly like it did before.

“I'm sorry I should have asked you first-“ You release him and lean back as you watch him.

He silenced your words with his lips as his hands wrapped around your neck.

Everything comes rushing back to you in an instant, like a blanket being pulled off of you. As you open your eyes again, you let go of each other. The difference this time is that you can see him.

As he smiled at you, you could see his cheeks flush with scarlet. You can see his silver rings around his slender fingers as his hands slip away from your neck.

You slowly turn around to face the sinking light on the horizon. As if a million scarlet petals have ignited, the sunset blooms on the horizon.

You expected the tears to flow this time as you stood up and walked closer to the cliff's edge. As you stared at the gorgeous view in front of you, you undoubtedly looked a mess.

You collapse to your knees and exclaim, "I can see it!"

Wonwoo approaches you slowly, bending down with you and holding you in his arms.

“See what?”

As you held him again, your snot-filled tear-streaked face turned to his.

“The color has returned, and I can see it now.” As he gasps, he pulls you back.

“Wait, are you serious, what color shirt am I wearing?”

“IT'S GREEN, YOUR SHIRT IS GREEN!!” Wonwoo scoops you up and spins you again in an instant. You lay another kiss on his lips as you chuckle into his lips, unsure of what to do.

The clouds floated into my life, not to bring rain or storms, but to add color to the sunset sky.

He picks up the polaroid camera off the ground and takes a candid shot of you. After he pecked your cheek once more, he smiled as he wanted to remember this special day.

You send wonwoo off to find a knife from the basket as the photo develops. You observe him as he runs around the area like a child, and you smile as the photo develops.

You've probably seen images where the background is blurred and the only thing in focus is the subject of the photograph. That was us. Every other detail became hazy as I concentrated on every facet of him.

You didn't realize how fortunate you were until now; he was the special someone you had wished for eons ago.

Everything felt even better when your color returned, and you knew deep down that everything was going to be well.

It was all because of wonwoo.

Your brother left you a gift, the lovely gift of music, which was seen via wonwoo.

Yes, your brother had been your best friend, and yes, he had left you. But, as you found a great friend, the life he presumably wanted for you had only just begun.

You hoped that with him, you would be able to treasure the love you had just as much as you did while you were together.

“Hey, wonwoo, I have a song title, also follow me.”

As he began heading toward you, he turned around and looked at you. You've both arrived at the same tree that was planted many years ago.

He gives you the knife as you start placing your name under your past self. As he watches you cry, Wonwoo does the same.

*Forever, Y/n, Wonwoo, and Lucas*

As he finishes up, you grab his hand and stroll back to the blanket setup. He takes a seat beside you and wraps his arm over your body.

“So, what are your thoughts?”

“Bittersweet, that's the title,” you said as you turned to face him.

“I love it,” he says as he pulls you closer to him with a nod of his head.

And with that, your brother's memory was carefully preserved, shared, and intended for all to hear.

“Lucas, I'll never forget you.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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#seventeen #svt #seventeen jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #svt wonwoo #seventeen fics #seventeen writer #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen series #seventeen x reader #soulmate au #wonwoo fluff #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen masterlist #babytaes works

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atruththatyoudeny · 3 years

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Happy 28th! Here are all the fics I read this month. Check them out and leave a little love for the authors ♥

Party Lines | nonsensedarling | phone sex - dirty talk - 25k Louis works for a phone-sex operating company, collecting credit card information and transferring calls to different operators. On a particularly busy night, everyone is booked up, and one caller has been patiently waiting for more than a few minutes. In a split second decision –one he’s probably going to regret– Louis picks up the call himself. * Or Louis accidentally becomes a phone sex operator.

Milk Kinship | jaerie | a/b/o - breastfeeding - male lactation - lactation kink - strangers to lovers - 21k Harry had aspired to become a wet nurse since first learning about the honored and respected tradition when he was a teenager. The first documentary he’d seen had been detailed and brutally honest and Harry had still fallen in love with the idea. It’s origins were rooted in highly regarded positions of the royal staff and were credited in playing a role in the lives of some of the most famous children in history. There were medically trained wet nurses and other milk services for mothers unable to feed their babies, but true wet nurse nannies could only be afforded by the rich and famous. The glamorous life appealed to Harry even if his understanding of his role changed to a more realistic view over time. As a starry eyed kid, that was where he wanted to be. Or Harry is a wet nurse and isn't allowed to have an alpha. He may or may not break his vows.

In the Heat Where You Lay | Marchessa | a/b/o - established relationship - nesting - minor injuries - domestic fluff - 5k Louis has a hard time figuring out why his mate, Harry, acts strangely. What shady things the omega does behind his back? Why does he lie in his face when he is asking him about it? Or the one where Louis tries to balance work life and his marriage while he also has to protect Harry from himself since the omega is danger walking on two marvellously long legs at the best of times.

Everything I Didn't Say | denisemuriel | famous/not famous - mpreg - angst - miscommunication - One Night Stands - 25k "I'm going on tour soon and won't be here for most of the year and I think that's just not fair to you." Harry swallowed and brushed a loose curl out of his face. "That's why this won't happen again." Louis had to suppress a sob because he didn't want to cry in front of Harry. "Okay, I understand. It's probably better this way." Harry got up from his seat and walked over to Louis, who also got up. Slowly Harry raised his hand, giving Louis a chance to move away from him, but he allowed Harry to cup his face in his hand and press his forehead against his own. "I know you feel the same connection I do." Harry murmured softly against Louis' lips. "And I wish things were different. I know that if I stayed, I would fall in love with you." He admitted. ✩ Or the one where they meet at the wrong time and when Louis finds out he's pregnant the story gets sold out.

Searching For Lost Time | DuchessKitty16 | ballet - Hip Hop - pining - 16k Harry is a ballet dancer with special talents and a determination to make his dreams come true. Louis is a hip hop b-boy from Manchester who’s been given a chance to attend the prestigious Royal Academy of Dance in London. Louis feels like he has something to prove and show the rest of the dance world that hip hop is just as important an art form as anything other dance discipline. Harry and Louis clash at first and then learn that collaborating makes them stronger. Based on this prompt that I was given: Louis and Harry study at a dance academy. Harry studies ballet and Louis studies hip-hop. They both stay behind after classes to practice and they leave the doors of the rooms open. With their classes across each other, their music is loud and it annoys the other. After a few weeks, Harry and Louis discover that maybe ballet and hip-hop don't sound too bad together. AKA; the one where two types of dancing fit unexpectedly well together, much like Harry and Louis themselves.

Only You (Blue Always Stays True) | BeautifulWisdom | a/b/o - regency - Girl Direction - mutual pining - friends to lovers - 11k Regency AU. Lady Harriet falls for her sister's best friend the elusive Alpha Lady Louise who couldn't possibly return her tender feelings. Or could she?

you and all of heaven's other wonders | devilinmybrain (venomedveins) | Guardian Angel - supernatural elements - 25k "Louis Tomlinson." He starts, the deep voice dipping just a little in the seriousness of his tone. "As a child of the Most Holy, Heaven has seen your struggle on this earth and heard your cry. My name is - " At this point, he does something complicated with his throat, a sound much like a screeching bird and bells combined together before he continues. "and I have been sent here to be your guiding light. Fear not for the Lord is with you." "What?" Louis' accent comes out thicker in his disbelief, dropping consonants as he blinks up at the man. "I'm your-" The man shifts his weight, hesitantly bringing his hands together in front of him. It's an endearingly nervous habit. "I'm your guardian angel."

Lightning Strikes The Heart | Bekita and fournipplesau | a/b/o - Bridgerton AU - enemies to friends to lovers - fake/pretend relationship . regency - angst - fluff - smut - mpreg - 130k Shrewsbury, 1814 Dearest reader, I present to you your new bulletin of news regarding Shrewsbury citizen's activities. My name is Lady Merriweather and I will be in charge of the updates. I will make sure you are to know all the important details of what is to happen this season. You must know that you do not know who I am and you never shall. But be forewarned; I certainly do know you. I advise you to be on your best behaviour, lest you want the whole town to be privy of your business. As expected every year, the Lockhart House hosts the season’s opening ball, and its invitation is the motive of the hustle in town, and every family hopes for the invitation. This year is no different, but this year everyone's attention is focused on the new Duke of Montgomery, His Grace Harry Edward Styles, and whether he will attend it. All the omegas will be in their best manner, behaviour and clothes as it is expected. And here, dear reader is where we will find out which young omega might succeed at securing a match, hoping to not become a spinster. Place your bets.

Glitter in the sky, glitter in our eyes | softfonds | a/b/o - historical - strangers to lovers - fake/pretend relationship - hurt/comfort - mpreg - 59k What happens when a Duke who will only marry for love and a courtesan who only sells it create a public ruse? Well, nothing boring for sure. An Edwardian AU.

Maybe You'll Like the Way I Am | lululawrence | a/b/o - fake/pretend relationship - panic attacks - anxiety - PTSD - heart disease - hurt/comfort - friends to lovers - no smut - angst - 56k Harry stood on his doorstep, waving a little as he shuffled his feet. “Hi, I brought you some cookies.” Louis finally realized Harry was holding a plate with at least a dozen chocolate chip cookies. “How’d you know chocolate chip was my favorite?” Harry scrunched his nose. “I, uh, they’re actually peanut butter chocolate chunk, so I really hope you don’t have a peanut allergy. There’s a lot of peanut butter and chocolate in these. But also, I just hoped that was something you liked because I actually have a favor to ask?” When Louis' alpha neighbor asks him to pretend to be his omega for a week, Louis immediately says no. He has too much he's dealing with on his own, and he swore to himself he'd never get that close to an alpha again. Unable to hold to that resolve once guilt sets in, Louis finds that maybe fumbling his way through a fake relationship for a week was exactly what he needed to finally be able to move on.

Hint: I want to be yours | bluegreenish | a/b/o - friends with benefits to lovers - pining - 11k Thinking back to Harry’s rut, Louis shivers, needing to put effort into keeping other bodily reactions at bay. “Are you cold?” While Niall’s been commenting through the entire film, Harry had stayed mostly quiet, so it’s a surprise when he speaks up, eyes zeroed in on the omega. “Uh, yeah. It’s a bit chilly, innit?” Niall shrugs, dressed in a sleeveless t-shirt and seemingly unbothered by the room temperature. Harry doesn’t ask for an explanation though. “You can have my hoodie, wait, here.” Before Louis can counter, Harry’s pulling the light grey piece of clothing over his head and handing it to the omega. or, the one where Harry unconsciously starts acting like Louis' alpha after they spend his rut together and Louis finds ways to make sure Harry's affection doesn't en

Always a Bridesmaid | kingsofeverything | age difference - weddings - sneaking around - secret relationship - fluff - 30k While Harry’s friends are all getting engaged or married, he’s nowhere near walking down the aisle to his own happily ever after. The night before his best friend’s wedding, Harry falls into bed with a silver haired stranger who makes him wonder what his own forever might look like.

#28th appreciation #fic rec #my fic rec #monthly reads #monthly fic rec #larry fics #completed fics #i put this together in a hurry so let me know if a fic isn't linked correctly

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monsoonblooms12 · 3 years

Text

Priyotomo (Ethan Ramsey x f!MC)

Summary: The Last Day at Amazon and Ethan's first day back at Boston from Ethan and Pooja's POV

Priyotom(o/a): (Bengali) Dearest, Most Beloved

A/N: Time for another hopeless attempt at poetry!! Anyway, this is my take on Dr Ethan Ramsey running to the Amazons. I really hope that this is not absolute crap and makes so sense🧡

Thank you so much to Simone for Pre-reading! Love you Gurl🧡

If you enjoyed the story, please like it, leave a comment or reblog. Your feedback keeps me going🤎

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Pooja Sharma)

Word Count: around 1.8K

Rating: General

Category: Angst

Warnings: (Very Brief) Mentions of blood, fainting and drinking

Title Inspo: Priyotomo Hai - Rabindra Sangeet (Rabindranath Tagore's composition)

OTHER WORKS

Pooja

16 years.

The date was displayed with vivid eloquence by the woody beige cubes that adorned the desk, posing a match with the minimalism of the room.

It was a preposterous fact.

Glassy ambers switched perspective in a progressive motion, and they interpreted the solitary shine of the table lamp on the transparent surface.

Four glowing smiles, two tiny toddlers sat on their parents' lap.

It does not feel surreal. Neither a tale of a bygone era.

It was not her past. It was her present, her life's gears were turned by this very photograph.

Her bracelet adorned hand held it close to her heart, which beat in a meteoric rhythm.

The cacophonous tunes from the fiesta painfully pierced through her reverie, cajoling her to close the mahogany doors that lead to her cocoon.

The flamboyant kantha stitched lehenga proved to be burdensome to carry.

With ponderous steps, Pooja settled down on the couch, pulling her feet to herself.

She wanted to be ten again. Not eleven.

Terminate the time when she could be that blithe girl, rolling dices with her mother.

But there was a specific reason why the reminisces came back stronger than any usual day.

Somewhere in the remote land, in a cholera-stricken district, a summery blue-eyed man spent his days in seclusion.

And occupied the chambers of her cerebral hemispheres.

What was the pain of being left alone with only emotions as a companion without as much as a message?

She wiped her cheek, only to discover the black of her eyeliner now adorning her fingers.

She had been crying.

When? She could not feel the tears that left smokey meanders on the map of her face.

The heartbreak and the circumstances had numbed her feelings. All she wanted was an embrace.

Why did his peach lips mark her as his if this was the end in sight?

She refused to accept it. The end.

She placed her foot down, not feeling the pierce of a pin fallen down against her skin.

Drops of scarlet marked her track as she retouched the smear of her face.

Time to go and socialize.

Ethan

Of everything to look at in the shiny cellular, his eyes now traced the pristine form of the lady who now inhabited every one of his senses.

The comely picture made her look ravishing and the adamant neurons started pulling out manila folders with her memories kept in them.

No. He cannot.

The fiery golden liquid disappeared faster than it had been poured.

He had found himself on the crossroad of whether to type out the words that played in a loop in his mind or not.

I miss you!

He always chose the latter.

He had already given her a false hope.

Of a future of them.

He did not want to do it again.

Only now he realizes that it was a hope he had given himself as well when he first took that sacred form of hers into his arms.

And that he ran away. Like a coward.

Ethan Ramsey the coward.

Who could not fight for them.

Who could not fight for her.

Who could not fight for Lo-

No.

He did not let the word complete. The very thought was dangerous.

Throwing the classy cylinder he had been holding with a deathly grip, he poured the last bit of that glass bottle in him.

And walked over hurriedly, the tiny glass pieces stabbing him, to again begin the reset.

One which would never complete.

Next Day

Pooja

The ethereal moon spread out the beams of serenity all over the ceremonious night.

It was a lively affair. Merrymaking and cultural programs went on, as she stood amidst the cheery atmosphere with a sombre expression.

In front of Pooja, was the masterfully sculpted idol of the Mother Goddess, standing majestically as the centrepiece of the celebration. She was the epitome of power, the Mahisasura Mardini.

The recollections of an unforgettable past come as paper-planes drifting in a gentle air, carrying the playfulness, a child's happy smiles. A time when her mother would take Pooja to the mythological lands through her words, and they would get lost like flying butterflies in fairytale land.

The tunes of Bengali music float in the gentle air, and she hums along. The first song her mom had taught her, also for a Durga Puja function. Her mom was deeply rooted in all of them, the culture of Bengal kept alive by her. She was the reason why Pooja could become a part of a community she takes pride in.

Even now, so many years later, things don't change. They hold on to these roots like they are holding onto their life, not letting them disappear.

It feels like holding onto her, keeping her alive.

Recreating a small piece of her favourite Kolkata in Bhopal.

But the aura of calm hid like the clouds covering the sun's shine. The piercing pain of heartbreak came back, the wound untreated.

The soft sand of her life's hourglass prickles, solitary grains floating to join their siblings. The wish of them defying gravity and going back to bring the 10th year of her life had never been so strong as it was now.

The heavy jewellery tugged at her ears, letting her know their presence and the styled hair gave her a throbbing headache.

Her tiredness and exhaustion, now fuelling back in her veins refusing to let her bring back that sense of peace she experienced moments ago.

Around her people wore phoney smiles. All they cared about was unimportant Tommy rot. Not a single one of them stepped back from criticizing the others behind their backs.

It was a saga of inflated egos, of constant competition, to make the next person look inferior.

She was tired.

Of people running away, Of abandonment, Of hopes getting dashed.

Why did his thoughts keep coming back? After all, he did make it clear, didn't he?

But did he really succeed? Did his efforts head? Did his heart finally give in to his relentless demand?

Did he really forget her?

All the messages that lay not replied, unheard voicemails, she was sure he had.

But that colour of his he left on her?

The piece of his heart that was protected by her?

Would he be able to forget them?

An earthen lamp flickered in front of her, bud she did no rush to save it.

If it goes out, then let it.

Just like the never-ending load shedding of her life.

But it didn't.

It was a wish, a hope that kept it alive.

The sweet nothings he had whispered to her, the gentle kisses he lined on her forehead.

They had promised her forever.

His being enveloped her, she doubted if it would ever break.

The hope of him & her flickers every now and then, just like the earthen lamp.

But did it go off?

It couldn't.

Because there was no wind strong enough to extinguish it.

The possibility of him and her.

The realization and a blackness hit her at the same time.

And as she fell, her mind held on to only it.

The possibility of him and her.

Ethan

If the Great Thinkers from BCs before were asked if going to a beer garden after spending 2 months in another continent and a 13hr long flight was a sensible thing to do, they would have watched the questioner in bewilderment.

And he agreed. He was not being sensible, not even 1%.

The urge to see her, to gaze at her moonly face, to know that she okay.

It had never been so strong. He felt his mind would give up on him if he could not locate her today.

Not that he had stopped the forgetting process, absolutely not.

It was just a solace, a bandage to the scars he had given himself.

That she would be okay even if he was not there with her.

Focus fixed on keeping his gaze as unhurried as possible, he looked around, putting the well-trained ears and eyes to work.

And then he saw them.

All her friends clustered at a table, merrily clinking beer bottles and sharing happy glances. His eyes pierced into the scene, but he could not locate her.

A step or two brought him close, the desperateness making his heart go crazy.

But the conclusion shattered every bit of sense and calm, dissipated the hope of getting to see here.

She was not here.

His face fell like someone who had lost the thing they hold the closest to their heart.

She, really, was not here.

He really wanted to ask the residents sitting at the table in question, to get some, any, news on her.

But his rational mind still existed, and it was the only thing that stopped him from going haywire.

She was not here.

He took out the notorious cuboid chiming in his pocket, full of satirical typed phrases his cerebrum refused to decrypt.

But it was adamant to get his attention.

A scoff escaped like a habit.

As if anyone could be powerful enough to take his attention away from her.

He was caught in a maze of her memories, his time in the continent thousands of kilometres away and the ghoul of feelings chasing him deeper into it, making him yearn for her solace, the moistness of a forlorn kiss on his forehead, the gentle swipe of a thumb to take his tears away.

His way was lost in there, every turn making him end up more challenged. But even if he did not want to, he had to find the way out.

His soul was like a thorn who could only hurt the tender flower that she was.

What he did not realize was that she was a rose, her being was amidst thorns.

She had the power to beautify them.

The click of the turn-on sound, brought him back to the piece of work his fingers were creating on the light emanating screen.

And in seconds that passed too fast, he saw his heart's treasure,

She was here.

Not in footsteps & whispers.

She was here.

Not in touches and kisses.

She was here.

Not in muscle and bone.

But in labyrinths of his heart, in filmstrips of his memory, in sensations that made him go wild,

She was here.

(With him forever, she was not the one to leave his side)

PS: I HC the end of 1st year of their residency being in Sept-Oct, which is the time of Durga Puja in India. And since Poo is half Bengali, and she never misses any tradition involving her mom's side of the fam, so she would not have been at Boston then. (Or take it as an excuse to increase angst potential) Anyway, Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a great day ahead! Love, Manamee🧡.

Tags (Please let me know if you want to be added or removed or if I forgot you I feel like my brain has short-circuited and I forgot someone):

Perma: @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @udishaman @aestheticartsx @twinkleallnight @schnitzelbutterfingers @sophxwithers @sweatyrysconnoisseur @nikki-2406 @choicesfanaf @trrfanaddict @starrystarrytrouble @gardeningourmet @parkbarks @mvalentine @lovablegranny @mercury84choices @helloayz

Open Heart (All fics and edit): @lucy-268 @maurine07 @bellcat2010

Ethan x Pooja (fics): @aleynareads @stygianflood @choicesaddict5 @mysticaurathings @jamespotterthefirst @ilikemenbutonlyethanramsey

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

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sunshades · 2 years

Note

Hey! Tell me about your favorite dnd character please :]

OH ANON... thank u for objectively one of the best questions to receive & sorry because this means u saw me rambling on ur dash way too often 🤐 lets go

I HAVE A COUPLE from games i've been playing... both around 2yrs now! i also keep little tags for aesthetic for em so honey, tiare!

miss honeywort..... lvl 5 wildfire druid aasimar! i'd love to share more cleaner art but! i have this lil old art and more recent doodle of her as well as beloved dm iggy's art they made for my bday 🥰💞💞!!!

conceptualized while i was listening to six the musical too often, then vibe wise she went more on a victorian novel side-- i went with the (YEAH ITS CLICHE I KNOW) memory loss plot but tried making up for it by giving a lot of Vibes about this... murky past, i thought a lot about stuff like bronte novels and frankenstein... betrayed by her bethroted and separated from divinity and the memories of her past, POSSIBLY DROWNED AND KILLED, ready to do Anything to get revenge and all of her life back, and then... SHE ACTUALLY BECAME REALLY NICE AND CARING JUST KIND OF A #WEIRDWOMAN? not really the reasonable one of the party but... well sometimes she has to be EJDKKS she also became the team healer since she's the only spellcaster, and she's not very good at it but >:) i think thematically it's very nice as it leans in the fire druid vibe of like... the cycle of death and rebirth 🤔 we still get by okay since it's a homebrew rp heavy campaign, we solve lots of mysteries and fun sidequests so i get to use a lot of spells which is (chefs kiss) especially since druid is one of my favorite classes..! the main plot is super fun as well it plays with the party starting off as like. VARIOUS PETTY LITTLE CRIMINALS and then discovering they're prophetized heroes, and slowly learning how to be good people... starting with trying to save a little girl. which is still a work in progress but. dm immediately got me very attached to all npcs involved both in and out of character SO we gotta make it now. no way around it!!

THEN ME BOY tiare.... lvl 6 elf (half eladrin half... miscellaneous) blood hunter (lycan)!! double whammy, messy older and messy more recent art GDHBNJKFS

w them i started like... i wanna do the tough guy with a heart of gold trope, and itd show with GYHDSF dyeing naturally pink hair from a fey bloodline into black. was in the middle of watching the witcher and fresh off an fma reread so it was already taking a certain direction... then my friends went and made em some family drama WHILE I SLEPT which ended up making em more of an ed elric and gerome firedemblem kinnie than previously planned complete with "parent dead b4 the start of the game wont stop haunting your narrative" and "depressed father is such a miserable little man"- the fall out w said father ended up being part of why they started hiding being half eladrin, cut any ties with their family and changing their hair and name (from mithra and its GDHJFG kind of a pun cuz thats close to the roman miter and tiarella flowers are called false miterworts... 😐) as well as hm kinda their whole personality like he used to be a populargirl cheerleader and now acts like he hates friendship so JDJDKSK the camp he's in is another hb one where we're working as adventures trying to become heroes so theres hm... a lot of the theme of being true to urself which 🥺 makes interactions w other pcs and npcs get very interesting and cute... im looking forward to getting em to open up more and get pink and appreciative of their heritage especially since i myself am very fond of their story since it was done together w some of my dearest friends 🫂

i do make a bunch of new guys all the time for oneshots or just for fun but these are my blorbos..... im glad they ended up in the campaigns and with the dms they did because rly nothing makes u get attached and ready to write lots like other lovly people who want to join u and do the same so i'm really thankful for them... anyway!! ty for the ask and for reading this far if u did it's always fun to share this kinda stuff!! 😊💕

#anonymous #ask the bell #dnd #WHEN I SEE POPULAR DND BLOGGERS ALWAYS TALK BACK AND FORTH W THEIR MUTUALS ABT CHARAS THEY DONT EVEN PLAY TOGETHER IM LIKE OOOO I WANT THAT #and like IDK WHO OF MY MUTUALS EVEN PLAYS OR WANTS TO SHARE STUFF so thank u anon with this im starting to throw my kids out into the world #anyway..... AH yeah the rumors are true i cant stop naming people after flowers. its mostly just vibes i dont necessarily associate em w*#the specific flower. (motions around in a hippie way) its the vibes dude......#dnd:citron #dnd:tyriniam

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otheenglishsetters · 3 years

Text

WIP (AKA, I never published my work on Tumblr before and I am TERRIFIED)

Hello! I finally gave in and splurged on a Xbox this year, which may have also coincided with my rising anxiety and boredom since I’ve decided to take a year off of college (my senior year to be exact). Luckily, my boyfriend and friends, knowing how I tend to throw myself into fictional worlds when I am stressed had recommended to me this sweet little game series. It was filled with space and wonder and characters so wonderful that they will make your heart hurt.

That, dear readers, was Mass Effect.

I had already played a little of the first game of the original trilogy at the very beginning of 2020 at my boyfriend’s house, long before all of my post-college plans came crashing down (as did the world too!)

So I finally invested my time (and money) into Mass Effect Andromeda in November of 2020. Let me tell you, after loosing control over everything else in my life [laying panicked in bed, constantly praying that the pandemic would not claim the life of my middle aged father after already losing my mother to lung cancer just two years prior], it was unbelievably refreshing to be able to have some resemblance of control in this fictional world (And yes, I realize that this is a video game and of course I have control). And the fact that what Bioware was doing was...pretty freaking great.

So, I apologize if this is coming off a pity-party, I promise, it isn’t supposed to be. It’s more like I had just finished my first playthrough of my first videogame ever and I am filled with feelings and emotions. I never post original content on Tumblr, and that’s mostly because I got scared off posting my work after receiving mean-spirited reviews when I posted my fanfiction on Fanfiction.com years and years ago (which is fair, because looking back my work wasn’t that great, but holy crap I was 14 guys!) I have not written creatively since my high school creative writing class in senior year, but this game and this winter, I thought I would try? And hopefully get to connect with other fans? Let me know what you guys think; I’m planning to add more chapters/content soon. Okay, I’ll quit rambling...

He notices that she tends to have a lazy eye. He’s not sure when exactly he notices this, but it’s becoming more and more apparent.

Which is not a problem, absolutely not. In fact, he thinks it’s adorable in a way, especially when she’s tucked into a pillow and loudly craving sushi.

“I wondered if she was mocking me,” Keema notes one day. Out of all the Angara Reyes has had the pleasure to meet, she still seems one of the few who can truly read humans in a non-lateral sense. Her favorite so far was when she discovered the music genres of both EDM and metal in the same day, “it wasn’t until I was approving shipping orders from the docks the other day I realized why. The Pathfinder needs glasses.”

She also loses control of her lazy eye, it seems, mostly at night, usually by 2300 hours standard time.

“I’ve been reading studies about team bonding.”

He hums as he rubs her back. Sara, despite commenting on the numerous things she’s done throughout her day, seems wired and intent on rambling. He’s okay with that. More than okay, it’s been years practically since either of them has had a free moment to even been able to just relax in bed and daydream. They probably both haven’t been able to enjoy this luxury since they were…teens? Finishing school and about to launch themselves into the military? For him, he figures it was before that, probably when he decided to work for that florist at 12. Sara gives bits and pieces of her life in the Milky Way but he thinks she was definitely a kid who tried to ‘help’ C-Sec with their cases, constantly looking for ways to help people in any way she can. He smiles. It’s probably a never-ending itch for her.

And now? He’s just content that he convinced her to come down to Kadara to ‘inspect Ditaeon’, or whatever bullshit she told Tann. Luckily, it seems that life is, slower? No, that’s not it, people are more than excited to create themselves anew here. Stores and trading posts are popping up everywhere and another hospital has just been built in Prodromos. There’s practically a whole shopping district in Kadara now, with outdoor venues and a movie theater that plays cinema classics every night. It’s more like they both are finally properly settled into their positions, like when a CEO is situated in a new company. Sure, the CEO may face numerous problems at first, especially if it’s during a recession or the company is about to go bankrupt. The CEO may even have to intimidate secondary managers and fight to gain respect; however, once the dust settles, whilst there may be everyday problems, it’s nothing compared to what it used to be. Usually, these problems are solved by lunchtime, mid-morning if either of them are lucky.

In the old days, when she appeared to be this amped up, Reyes would subtly (or not so subtle, it depends on how you look at it), swoon her until they had sex. It probably didn’t feel that way at the time, but sometimes Reyes cringes when he thinks of how rushed their attempts at romance used to be. Back then, they didn’t know how long she would be in the area and they would race to make the most of the evening. Now he wonders how much he used to unconsciously push aside the thought that either one of them could be dead the next day.

Errrr. Negative bedtime thoughts. Not good for sleepytime.

“Darling?”

“Yes?”

“Are you listening?”

“You were just telling me how you were reading various theses on social exchange theory but then you were already anxious about the thing that you have yet to tell me so you decided to read something familiar like one of the works by Dr. Brené Brown,” he pauses to give a quick glance at the data pad in his right hand. “Mi cielo, I have been informed to tell you that your contacts have been delivered as they were just sent in, along with the rest of the Tempest’s supplies, this morning.”

He liked to think he was a good boyfriend.

“I hate when you do that.”

“What?” Listen? Dearest, it’s part of the job description as your lover. Speaking of, remind me to pick up toilet paper tomorrow.”

“No, multitask.”

He sighs and reaches up into the upper center of her back. Oof, she really is tense there. “You do it too.”

“Not at nighttime!” She scowls and rubs her eyebrow. “Ew, when did I become an old prune as soon as it gets dark?”

He starts tenderizing the hard muscle. Mentally, he makes a note to remind her later when she’s not grumpy to do her prescribed yoga. “We’re all getting older dear. I’m thirty-one and the other day I heard my knees crack.”

She was silent. Any other fool would think that she was lost in thought while others would be jealous of the close bond she shares with her AI. Honestly, Reyes is just grateful she spends any of her time with him, let alone his bed. And if she occupies a part of it in a mental showdown with SAM, who is he to complain.

“SAM thinks you should get an appointment. Even if Dr. Nakamoto is busy, there’s plenty of others who are just as qualified. Also, I think Peebee and Jaal are sleeping with each other.”

Both he and Sara know the in(s) and the outs of their jobs so well by now, that he can probably predict easily what his men will ask for even before the message is downloaded on his office’ terminal. However right now, as Reyes stops reading a report on corn being grown on Havarl that he already skimmed over this morning over his huevos rancheros, all he can think about before checking to see if he is correct is how her left non-dominant eye is floating far out to the side.

Hmmm, who knew fraternization would be cutting into his beauty sleep?

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

If you made it this far, thanks so much for checking this out! I apologize for any grammar mistakes. If you’re confused, this is set to take place three years after the Hyperion first makes contact with the Nexus in the Andromeda Galaxy. I was just so intrigued by the dialogue between Jaal and Peebee. And then, after the initial curiosity, I was about to forget about it when I came across some interesting dialogue while driving the Nomad...

Jaal: Vetra, I catch Peebee looking at me. Frequently.

Vetra: Peebee likes new shiny things. Uhh… and why not? You’re genuinely interesting.

Jaal: Vetra, remember when I told you that Peebee was looking at me? Frequently?

Vetra: Yeah? Is it getting annoying? Want me to say something?

Jaal: No, no, no. It’s… just that… lately, I find myself… looking back.

Vetra: Huh.

So of course I had to dig into that! And what better way to do so than by using my new favorite ship: Reyes and Sara? (Domestic times!)

Anyways friends, hopefully my writing isn’t awful and you enjoyed yourselves. I may wake up in the morning and delete this. Who knows.

Have a great day guys!

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talldarkandroguesome · 3 years

Text

Dearest Tel,

I thank you for another of your amusing letters. I am glad to hear that you and your Armiger brethren are finding ways to amuse yourselves betwixt your duties to the city. I hope that you are looking forward to your upcoming transfer, even if it means you will not be staying as closely to Lord Vehk’s side.

The weather here continues to grow warmer, though the nights often tend towards a cold chill. Just a couple days past, we had weather akin to that of the end of Rain’s Hand or the start of Second Seed. Then last night it was cold enough I could see my own breath when I went out to the garden. Such a strange phenomena. I fear that all the flowers in my garden whose buds had begun to swell, will lose much of their color as a result of the frost. Particularly those which have been imported from southern Blackmarsh.

The girls have stopped complaining about having to sit with tutors. I do not know what Mother has promised them, or more likely, frightened them into believing, to make them so obedient to learning. Perhaps they are enjoying the teachings? I think it is fair to say that Kuna is excited for anything if it is justified as progress towards becoming the Indoril Princess, for that is what she has called the title she believes she will come into upon joining the House. Cariel is still too young to understand her motivations one way or another. She says she likes her teachers, but mostly she just follows whatever Kuna says.

I will not bore you with matters of the Council. Honestly they have not finished arguing over my expenditures. Even all these weeks later they question if I needed the fifth dagger or how many alchemy bottles are necessary. As I have to keep reminding them, we had to go to Coldharbour where the level of danger was incalculable and supplies would not be easy to come upon.

Yet they continue to quibble over a matter of items as trivial as the number of frogs justifiable upon a cloak. Nevermind that the fate of all of Nirn and her people was at stake, no, let us have an hour’s argument over if it was really necessary to provide potions for my companions on the House account!

You would believe the Councilmer had not once seen battle, nor accounts related to such matters! And yet, when they are not berating me over such inconsequential items, they are committing resources and troops to the Pact’s armies. It is enough to make me wonder if my presence somehow summons Sheogorath somewhere within the Council chamber. I feel half mad.

Yet that is not what I wished to converse on in this letter.

You had asked for more stories. Particularly about the assassins and their failures. Of course, you know in receiving this letter they must have failed, else how would I be writing to you.

You may recall in my last letter that I scoffed at the poor effort put in by those that wished ill of me. I see now that I have caught Malak’s eye with such remarks, for what they may be failing to produce in qualtity, they have attempted to make up for in quantity. There are more and more attempts each day.

For a while I trusted in the Odinators and their abilities, for the attempts were limited to outside my home. Then they were making sure to get around the Ordinators. And they have now managed to infiltrate the Ordinators.

There is an investigation being conducted, of course, but there has been in all the previous attempts as well. And all to naught but the conclusion that there must be more than one person responsible for the attempts.

Urtisa, may she rot in her room in the Temple, has claimed responsibility for several of the attempts. Even so far as sending me body parts.

While the Ordinators have found no proof of what she has been up to, I have a contact who has assured me that they are working to discover Urtisa’s role in the assassination attempts and to identify her contacts. The Temple says they do not believe there is a way for her to be sending messages out with her having guards posted about the place, but it is clear that she is. If she, or someone else has penetrated the ranks of the Ordinators, it would be possible that Ayem’s Hands or other guards would be in the pocket of those who were trying to get rid of me.

The attempt by the Ordinator, whether they were impersonating the true guard or not, was far closer than I had liked. I made sure to downplay it amongst the servants, but the anti-coagulant his blade was coated in made the situation far more dire than one might find comfort in. I managed to dodge the blade for the most part, but I had to wait in order that the perpetrator would fall into the blade behind me without being able to escape. Without wounding them, I knew they would not stop.

From what I hear, as soon as the other guards tried to take him into custody, he slit his throat. So clearly he had an interest in protecting whoever he worked for. A shame, I was looking forward to the interrogation and learning more about him and his employer.

I apologize that this letter is being sent out later than I should like. The same injury that I described has laid me out for the rest of the day. The doctor tells me that I must rest and recover my strength yet. So I have gotten out of going before the Council.

Staying in bed for one day is no great hardship, though. Nabine got back into bed with me once Mother took the children to their lessons and we were able to spend a long while just enjoying one another’s company without the fuss of servants or the need for me to deal with House duties or replying to the stack of missives that litter my desk.

Instead, I can take my time to write back to you and to read over all the amusing antidotes you have sent along. That story about the nix ox in particular left me in high spirits. I laughed so hard I had to have someone give me a lesser healing spell from where I caused the wound to reopen ever so slightly.

Whatever the poison used was, it makes healing very slow and resistant to magicka. I took some samples from the wound and the dagger used on me and when I am better I plan on discerning the individual components contained within. I should like to develop an antidote in case another assassin tries the same poison upon me again. It must be someone with money to afford such a complicated potion. Or else, they are a master alchemist themselves.

Before I forget, I wanted to thank you for those lovely pictures you painted. I have had the smaller ones put in my study where I can look at them when I need a break from the tedious work I must do. The larger ones have been put in the parlor, save for one, which was greatly admired by our head chef. It is the one with the ash falling over the rocks of the Inner Sea. She stared at it every time she saw it, so I had it hung in her room. She has told me every day of how nice it is to have it to look at the painting every morning and be reminded of home.

I hope that you do not have too much fun without me. You know how much I hate to miss an orgy. With all the work and assassination attempts, we have had to put any we were hoping for on hold until we can learn more about who is behind the attacks.

Nabine has managed to find us a few very fun and limber people to engage in such amusements. Still, I miss the freedom of being able to choose anyone I like for such things.

There are so many political chains that keep me from doing as I please. No room for rebellion while I am trying to achieve several goals.

I have no more stories about that stray guar to report. I believe that having so many Ordinators around has scared the poor thing off. If she comes back though, I will ensure that I report more on it to you.

The anti-pain potion I have been taking to help me rest is beginning to make me rather tired, so I think I must end here. I would rather drink the rest of the bottle of it and tell you more, but I can hardly keep my eyes open. If I have the opportunity to write you again before the start of the new week, I shall.

Your friend, Indoril Fayrl Indoril

Oh! Also! Give yourself a kiss from me and make sure that you pass the enclosed song along to your more musically inclined Armiger friends. It is hard to see the innuendo at first, but when it is played in time with the music, it soon becomes clear. I am sure that if you follow along it will help to liven up your next gathering, or whatever the Armigers are able to get up to in the barracks.

By the Three, stay safe.

#ESO #TES #RP #Dunmer #Elder Scrolls Online #The Elder Scrolls

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laulink · 4 years

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got any monochrome headcanons?

OH DO I

- I think I already mentioned it, but @good-rwbyaus opened my eyes with one of their skits on Weiss singing for Blake (and their kids). Since then, one of my favourite headcanons is that Weiss will sing for her girlfriend/wife and, later on, for their children. The evening lullaby becomes sort of a tradition that Weiss wouldn’t break for the WORLD. Even when she’s away, she calls her children right before bedtime to ask about their day and sing them the lullaby Willow used to sing to her when she was a child (Willow herself was taught this lullaby by her father, Nicolas, who learned it from his own father. It is one of Nicolas’s and Willow’s dearest memories with their respective fathers and it becomes one of Weiss’ favourite things to do for her children). When her children grow up, Weiss starts singing the lullaby to them less and less, seeing as they don’t need it as much anymore to fall asleep, but she will still sing it to Blake sometimes, especially when she has nightmare, and her children pick up singing and an instrument to sing other songs with their mother. I actually imagine that most of the RWBY character songs in the show will be written and sung by their children based on their parents’ experiences and lives.

- when Blake and Weiss get married, I imagine them taking both of their names, resulting in them being called Blake and Weiss Belladonna-Schnee. This is because Weiss, as expressed in the series, is still attached to her family name and wants to erase her father’s legacy with it by writing her own legacy over his. So she wouldn’t abandon her name upon marriage. Blake is similar in that she wants to keep her family name because of its history for the Faunus : Ghira Belladonna was the one who created and led the original White Fang for years, is the chief of Menagerie and both him and Blake had a hand in creating the New White Fang and taking down the old one. Because of that, I think that Blake would want to keep the Belladonna name because of its significance for recent Faunus history. At the same time, joining the Belladonna and Schnee names show that the two sides of the war between Faunus and Humans can live together without one upping or swallowing the other, in equality. Both Blake and Weiss liked the message it sent, and so they decided to join their names and pass both of them down to their children.

- after Jacques was arrested, the company was returned to Willow, seeing as how Whitley was too young to run it. But Willow has a hard time balancing her family situation, this new, stressing job and trying to recover from her addiction, so, after the war, she asks Weiss for help, seeing as she was actually taught, when she was still heiress, how to manage the company. Long story short, Willow, Weiss and Whitley all work together to keep the SDC running and undo all the shit Jacques did and give their workers better working conditions, equal pay, etc. A few years later, the SDC is finally on the right track, all the racist shits on the board of directors were forced to sell their shares to the Schnee family and, at about the same time as Weiss’ wedding with Blake occured, Willow gave Weiss ownership of the company. The organisation didn’t change though, Willow kept her position in the company, but she felt Weiss deserved this. Weiss took the opportunity to change the company’s name to the Belladonna-Schnee Dust Company, to show that the company was taking a fresh start with a new CEO, a new name and new policies in terms of human/Faunus equality.

- Blake is shit at dancing modern dances because she doesn’t understand the moves and most of them recquire her to more or less dance on her own, so she doesn’t have a partner, to move with, but, thanks to Weiss, she discovers that she is actually pretty good at ballroom dancing. It is lucky because it’s one of Weiss’ favourite things to do and Blake, as a good romantic, has always dreamed of waltzing with her lover. They will always dance together when there’s an opportunity to do so, be it at a party or a festival, and sometimes even in the privacy of Weiss’ office or their bedroom when the night is getting long and they just want to hold each other close and sway to the rhythm of a music Weiss is humming.

- I like to think that Weiss and Blake would live in the Schnee Manor with Willow, Winter, Whitley and their respective partners and children. Willow would want to stay in the house her father built and reclaim it as her own and her children wouldn’t want to leave her alone in this big Manor. Plus, they figure that if they all live together and without Jacques, they might actually make good memories in this house. Ruby and Penny would join them with their daughter too whenever they are in Atlas and Jaune, Ren, Nora and their children would also be welcomed to stay over whenever they visited their friends. (Yang is married to Winter so she’s there all year long, much to Weiss’ (fake) dismay =P) Thanks to all those people, the Schnee Manor becomes a warm, happy, lively place =) The fact that the children get to grow up all together and see their aunts and uncles on a daily basis is a big plus for everyone involved.

- Weiss works for the BSDC and Blake is a member of the High Council of the White Fang, but they still take missions as Huntresses from time to time (since Salem’s disappearance wouldn’t make the Grimm disappear). They can’t always take their missions together, but always try their best to do so. And because the BSDC is so pro-Faunus rights, they work together closely on improving working conditions for the BSDC employees while the BSDC provides official support and funds for the White Fang. Sometimes, Blake and Weiss will sit through a Kingdom’s Council meeting to discuss new Faunus rights laws and accomodations and let me tell you, Blake and Weiss Belladonna-Schnee are a mean combo to deal with. They have different approaches and domains of knowledge when it comes to Faunus rights and legistlation, which means that they complete each other’s arguments and points toward the proposed laws. The progressive Councilmen and Councilwomen who want to propose laws for Faunus rights can always turn to them for advice or to ask them to come defend it during a meeting. Their racist counterparts always pale when they hear that the Belladonna-Schnee couple is going to attend and speak during the meeting x)

- on a related note, Weiss and Blake are literally the strongest, most awesome, most ICONIC power couple Remnant has EVER seen. It’s kinda scary, actually, for some people, how powerful the Belladonna-Schnee family is. Not only are Blake and Weiss extremely strong and skilled Huntresses, they also have a lot of wealth, political power and a great reputation, not to mention how powerful and influential their loved ones and family members are. Blake Belladonna-Schnee is a war hero, as is her wife, is one of the most respected members of the High Council of the White Fang, the most respected and influential organisation for Faunus rights all across Remnant, and her father is Ghira Belladonna, highly respected former leader of the White Fang and actual chief of Menagerie. Weiss Belladonna-Schnee is the owner of one of the largest companies in all of Remnant, is one of the richest people of the world and is the sister of General Schnee, the leader of the strongest military in Remnant. Both of them have ties to all the other war heroes that helped save the world from Salem, one of which is married to the first synthetic human able to produce an aura and another is the daughter of a Maiden who is also the Headmistress of Haven Academy AND Willow Schnee’s lover (yes, I headcanon that Raven will be redeemed, become Haven’s Headmistress and grow closer to Willow to the point where they start dating. Fight me)

- Weiss, upon becoming a mother, learned how to bake cakes and cookies (Yang was the one who taught her) because she wanted to do something nice for her children to eat all on her own, no cake butler involved. Blake would join her when she had the time (usually when the children were napping) and either help or try to steal as much dough as she could depending on her mood. When she was feeling more teasing, the baking session would quickly devolve into a food fight, leaving both women covered in flour, milk and eggs, but also laughing their hearts out. As the children grew up, this became a family activity and the food fights, while less common because Weiss and Blake tried to be responsible adults in front of their children, were even more funny with the kittens involved~

#that's all I can think of right now without delving too far in my ideas for their kids and whatnot #rwby #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #monochrome #checkmating #Anonymous

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shinkookiefanfiction · 5 years

Text

SHE'S MY NOONA

Chapter 22

The after party

The guys left leaving Min ah with her dearest friends for a sleep over. Min ah was overwhelmed with joy and happiness just thinking of the kiss she shared with Jungkook.

"Okay tell us their is something going on between you guys." Her friends demanded answers from her seung her weird act and smiling to herself like crazy. " mwo? Nothing nothing actually." They promised eachother to keep what happened from others. " yah! We are your friends we know everything about you, that weird laugh, smile and also lost in the moment." Shin hye curiously commented approaching Min ah making her lay on the sofa.

" those actions actually tells us that something is up....tell us what happened with you and Jungkook at the roof." Go ara cried demanding answers from her friend as Min ah decided to give in and told them what happened.

" What you two KISSED! I mean...you kissed an idol!!" Go ara cried with excitement " so he revealed he also has feelings for you then you confessed back and then he pulled you in for a kiss." Shin hye repeated making Go ara even more happy " What made you even excited it's not like you are dating him." Shin hye cried " aniyo...it's just like a drama...ooh i'm so jealous." Go ara cried making her shy.

" so are you guys a thing like a couple you know?" Shin hye asked but Min ah didn't understand cause all she knew is that they confessed and kissed but did not like make it official to start dating.

"Yah how come it's just like eating food and not get satisfied with it...Min ah that is the most important part." Go ara adviced " it's okay he can do it some other day as long as I'm with him." Min ah gave herself hope.

" What if another woman grabs of him...how will you challenge that if he's not your boyfriend..Min ah.." "...Yah..I believe in him I don't want to rush things with him despite he's famous and I can't afford seeing him lose something important for him that he worked long for just because of me." She said in sad tone " i'm eager to wait." She then smiled happily to herself as her friends stared at her in confusion but decided to support her.

" we just want you to know no matter what we are here to support any decision you make." They hugged her. " good luck with your handsome looking boyfriend that every girl is willing to have." Go ara teased " not on my watch!" Min ah laughed pretending like a super hero.

The next day

Min ah's p.o.v

I kept thinking what my friends said yesterday. I was in deep thoughts, my little love affair just began but why do i feel a little awkward.

Today my uncle the manager called me and asked me about my grandmother's health " she's okay." I explained more about my conditions but I wondered why my uncle called me today " you seem to have something you want to tell me?" "What about you...I see you also have something to tell me." He asked me

What no...should I ask him if i can date Kookie? Won't it be a bad idea? "Well it's nothing important..What about you?" " Well you remember that variety show you attended with your best friend and Jungkook." He asked making me worried if he discovered I got hurt.

"So what...about it? Did they tell you anything?" "Aniyo look at this." He handled me his tablet making me wonder what it was? I managed to look at the screen and saw pictures of me and a fan page. " yah park what is this?...since when did I start having a fan page?" I got confused

"Well alot of people started following you after seeing you on the show because of your prettiness alot of people watched the show because of you?" He explained making me feel more amused " uncle stop kidding me...you know I'm very serious." "Do I look like I'm joking?" He said seriously

Later

I got out thinking of what uncle said " i remembered your dream of becoming model so some agencies and your dream school at London want to train you to one..so what do you think?" I was so happy my dreams were coming true but thinking about it i just can't leave kookie..." wait...I'll think about It" "yah...isn t this what you always wanted...I even struggled for it and now you need to think?" He cried " aniyo right now there's so much I need to concentrate like grandma and would appa agree with me?" I asked

End of flashback

I had to deliver some songs to the boys in their recording room. I managed to get in the room finding their producer working with their music. I could see the boys in the recording studio singing. The song was really sweet and nice "can you stay here abit and look at the boys I have something to do in a meanwhile." Their producer asked me to stay as he left.

I sat their and looked at the boys till they discovered i was watching them and I waved at them. Jungkook was really happy as he waved at me with his sweet smile. They continued to sing their song called 'Make it right.' It was a sweet song about love, the boys were really amaizing singing and dancing with fun from their heart so as Jungkook.

How could he have such a sweet angelic voice, he then winked at me making me imagine as if he's singing for me. Soon the song ended just as the producer returned on time. The boys got out of the recording studio laughing and smiling at me " so how was it?" Namjoon and Jin approached and asked me as others talked to the producers.

What is kookie doing shouldn't he follow me first? I was really mad my eyes could only fix on him. " Ooh it seems your eyes are enly fixed somewhere else." Jin and Namjoon laughed " mianhaeyo." I chuckled having no excuse that guy after what happened he couldn't even text me at night? I was furious, trying to flirt with me during recording and couldn't even approach me.

" guys i think i need to go." I cried heading myself outside, pabo! pabo! I'm such a fool I stuttered knocking my head just when someone took my arm. I realized it was him he grabbed my arm wrapping himself on his waist like a couple.

" aigoo! Don't knock yourself you'll get hurt." He cried as i hurriedly removed my hand on his waist " Yah!, what are you doing? Are you crazy! What if we get caught?" " I'll protect you." He leaned and whispered to my ear. " yah stop it" i found myself whinning so stupid of me.

I then saw a group of staff women coming when we hurriedly parted and pretended to walk different paths " ooh it's oppa!" They cried running towards him " oppa !" " yah you know i don't like that name." He cried as the women laughed realizing it was a mistake " mianhaeyo Jungkook but can you sign our autograph please?" They asked as Jungkook continued signing giving him praises and gifts.

" What is she doing standing there, aren't you busy?" One asked me as i realised i wasn't suppose to be there. I was about to leave when " hey didnt I tell you to wait for me?" He cried as the girls felt abit jealous from the look of their faces.

We continued walking as i looked at him. He is truly indeed a god with that face every girl is ready to pounce on him. " What? Like what you see?" He teased me again making me frustrated " was what's wrong?" He slowly asked " i hate it when you treat other girls with that charming smile of yours...they'll just fall for you." I complained as he smiled again " What what with the smile?" " you are jealous right?" He smiled leaning close that he pecked me " kyeopta." He said huskily making me nervous once again that i hurriedly left. " stop It!"

Jungkook's p.o.v

I smiled to myself at how she made me laugh. She was really shy did she think I was new to this things? I decided to text her on my phone "hey should we go somewhere at night?" I texted her as i hoped back to the boys happily.

"Yah where did you go? We were waiting for you mmh?" Tae asked " just at the washroom." I smiled at them " you are lying Suga hyung just came from there and you weren't there." Jimin cried " actually.." "lets just forget it and go on with our business." The producer gave us some sheets of paper to give us to practice. " you are lucky but Later." Jimin cried.

It was ten minutes of learning and Min ah never replied back, I was really angry and mad what does she think she is? Ahh ok this girl all this time was I the only one texting? " sir isn't it break right now!?" I stood to ask making my hyungs laugh " it's true our lessons have ended hope you practice that song very well and Namjoon lets meet up after this." Our producers asked knowing that it maybe trouble.

We all departed heading to the cafeteria when Jimin, Tae and J hope stoped me " yah why are you weakening, you are acting strange since yesterday evening we left." Tae asked " why are you even in a hurry?" "Could it be her, Min ah?...I noticed you two acting strange together did something happen?" J hope jumped into conclusion making me nervous.

"Actually something did happen...you two were together last night right?...you both didn t look okay." Jimin commented curiously with a smirk as both of us sat down to eat. My hyungs were already getting on my nervous so I decided to say it to tell them. " jinja!?" J hope happily smiled "so that means you wo are dating now?" Mwo?! " " you didn't ask her to be your girlfriend?" " geesh you are really stupid..What did Min ah love from you." Jimin cried as Tae remained speachless " Tae aren't you happy for me?" I asked " congrats...I was just in deep thoughts." " yah isn't that Min ah with Min woo?" Jimin pointed making me look back and see Min ah walking with that guy Min woo laughing and chatting. My heart felt really sad and angry. I wanted to follow that barstard " yah even if you follow her, she's not your girlfriend." " you can't stop her from interacting with others."

" is it a must to be a couple! Aish." I stood angrily and left making a fuss without being able to finish my food.

I went upto my studio where I stayed there playing my piano thinking about what my hyungs said "should I have to make her my girlfriend?" " what girlfriend?" Someone from behind shocked me. It was Min ah she was laughing holding food " What are you doing here?" I furiously asked "same to you." " yah why can't you leave me just go to that Min woo guy since he's always there with you" I angrily cried but she just chuckled and came to sit next to me.

" Are you also jealous?....kyeopta." She smiled looking at me remembering what I said earlier to her " you didn't finish what I did after that." I nervously said to her " What...you mean the kiss?" I noded " right here you know the glass from your studio is see through?" " it's a punishment for not replying my calls and talking to that dude." I pout my lips but I got a knock " yah that's not what i meant." " What about you...you didn't even text me yesterday after what happened you are really selfish."

She cried making me realize how stupid I was and made me apologize " mianhaeyo it was so stupid of me....from now on I'll always call you mmh?" "I already did all you have to do is eat." She gave me a spoonful of food feeding me.

I was really happy to be with the woman I really love and loved me too. " Min ah can you call me...oppa? If i make you my girlfriend?" I nervously asked her considering her to be the only person to call me that. " eat....oppa my cute bunny." she smiled nervously exposing her cute dimple making me smiled back at her making my heart flutter even more. I promised myself that i will always love this woman infront of me no matter what. "

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rosemarytonks · 6 years

Text

The Way Out of Berkeley Square, by Rosemary Tonks (1970)

Rosemary Tonks is now known as the poet who disappeared, thanks to a 2009 BBC program (“The Poet Who Vanished”) and features in the Guardian, TLS, the London Review of Books, the Poetry Foundation and others following her death in May 2014 and the reissue that fall of Bedouin of the London Evening, a collection of her poems and selected prose. In truth, she didn’t disappear as much as take a deliberate decision to step away from the life of London and literature she’d led since the mid-1950s. She had health problems, became a devout Christian, and spent her last thirty years in Bournemouth having little or no contact with the large circle of writers, artists, and friends she had known. Sometime in late 1981, she retrieved most of her souvenirs and papers from storage in London and burned them in her garden incinerator. In the years before her death, she read only from the Bible.

The reissue of Bedouin of the London Evening has done much to restore Rosemary Tonks’ standing as an innovative and challenging poet of the sixties. Though praised when her two collections of poems were first published, her poetry is aggressive, edgy, unsettled. “Her poems matched the forceful personality, being rhetorically explosive, with more exclamation marks than anyone else used,” one of her contemporaries recalled. She was neither feminist nor conservative: more than anything, she was an individualist. Several observers have remarked that she most admired the spirit of the flâneur — “equal parts curiosity and laziness” — as embodied in the work of Balzac and Baudelaire:

The crowd is his element, as the air is that of birds and water of fishes. His passion and his profession are to become one flesh with the crowd. For the perfect flâneur, for the passionate spectator, it is an immense joy to set up house in the heart of the multitude, amid the ebb and flow of movement, in the midst of the fugitive and the infinite. To be away from home and yet to feel oneself everywhere at home; to see the world, to be at the centre of the world, and yet to remain hidden from the world—impartial natures which the tongue can but clumsily define.

She was a creature of the city. As she writes in “Diary of a Rebel,”

For my fierce hot-blooded sulkiness I need the café – where old mats Of paper lace catch upon coatsleeves That are brilliant with the nap of idleness …And the cant of the meat-fly is eternal!

She told a Guardian interviewer in 1968 that she used to drive straight into the centre of London each morning, and then to a cafe south of Putney Bridge, where she had scrambled eggs. And the photo on the cover of Bedouin of the London Evening shows her at work at a sidewalk table, a large café-au-lait sitting beside a stack of books and papers. Bloodaxe Books is to be commended for taking advantage of ebook technology and included recordings of Tonks reading a dozen of her poems, along with an interview with Peter Orr, in the EPUB and Kindle versions.

Tonks’ work as a novelist, however, has yet to be rediscovered, for the simple reason that it’s almost impossible to get hold of one of her six novels. The cheapest copy goes for over $70, the dearest for over $400. And forget about finding Emir (1963) outside a couple handfuls of libraries worldwide (she disowned it, anyway). Thanks to the Public Library of India, however, you can find her first novel, Opium Fogs (1963), online in electronic formats.

With the help of my daughter and the University of Washington Library, I was able recently to read Tonks’ 1970 novel, A Way Out of Berkeley Square. At the time it came out, the book probably seemed too odd, too marginal to merit much consideration. “I’m thirty, and I’m stuck,” Tonks’ protagonist, Arabella, complains. Living with her father, romantically involved with a married man, and barely employed with the job of decorating some flats her father is renovating, she was neither the Victorian model of a spinster nor the Seventies’ vision of a woman taking charge of her own life. One reviewer dismissed Arabella as “30 on her driver’s license and 13 in her emotional development.”

This is pretty close to her father’s estimation. He would have her be both the Victorian spinster, serving up a hot dinner and keeping a tidy home for him, and a go-getter, diving into the business of interior decoration with a profit-minded zeal. The one thing he can’t accept is what she is:

My father can’t bear ordinary life; a woman in a dirty cardigan with two pockets on the stomach misshapen by handkerchiefs makes him bristle up, the sight of a coarsely-patterned formica table with brown tea-cup rings on it and large yellow crumbs will cause him a temporary loss of personality, his ego buries itself in one of his shoes and leaves the rest of his body to look after itself, grey, inert.

“I’m out of the habit of taking action,” she thinks. “I don’t have a proper stake in life, in the world.” She definitely doesn’t care for a future of caring for her father for decades until he dies — and then having nothing to show for it. But she’s also skeptical that there is any pot of gold waiting at the end of the rainbow of marriage and/or career:

Inside the showroom I catch the eyes of various men and women, torpid and haggard as drug-addicts, as they turn over the endless fabrics. I have never actually seen a face with an expression on it in this showroom; blanks, and more blanks with dead eyes. The suffering is awful, and it goes on and on, like writing out “I must not say bloody” a hundred times at school, until you’re free to rejoin the mainstream of life.

Yet she wonders, “Shall I take this bit of life, because if I don’t I may not have any life at all?”

Her one lifeline is her brother, who has escaped from London to Karachi, where he is trying to find the distance and energy to make a start as a poet. They write each other nearly every day — he consoling her over their father’s domination, she cheering on his efforts to embrace his new surroundings and work on his writing. When his correspondence suddenly stops, she worries — then panics when she learns after a gap of weeks that he has contracted polio and is barely surviving with the help of his cook. (This parallels Tonks’ own experience of contracting typhoid and then polio while living in India early in the 1950s.)

The crisis kicks her out of her doldrums. Though still very much dependent upon him to arrange for her brother’s care and return to England, it’s Arabella who prods her complacent father and forces the action. In so doing, she discovers a capacity in herself she had not suspected: “I’ve found out that strength is silent; it doesn’t have to be talked about, proved, or borrowed from others. It isn’t even called strength, but action.”

It’s likely that The Way Out of Berkeley Square would have a more favorable reception today. A fair number of women (and men) are stuck living with their parents into their thirties with the decline in earning power and finding the experience demoralizing and emotionally stultifying. And Tonks’ prose is studded with little gems of description. Of her father’s car: “His new Bentley is fully automatic, has doors as heavy as safe doors from the Bank of England, and a steel body as wide as a ping-pong table. Inside you serve from one corner of it, while burning hot air and noisy stereophonic music try to draw off your attention, subdue, drown and kill you.” Of her married lover’s best talent: “Now there are some men who are so good at getting women across traffic that it’s a form of love-making, in which the woman is touched, protected, and lifted forward, until she reaches the opposite pavement in a state of mild delirium.” Kirkus’s reviewer called Tonks’ prose “A decorative style but it’s all parsley.” Well, if that’s parsley, I say bring it on.

I was able to get my hands on a copy of Tonks’ last novel, The Halt During The Chase (1972), so I hope to post something on that as well as Opium Fogs soon.

[The Neglected Books Page, 16 August 2018]

#rosemary tonks #the way out of berkeley square #neglected books

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rainbowitup · 6 years

Text

Long Live

It’s a typical Friday afternoon, and I’m in the car on the way to pick up McDonald’s for lunch. There’s construction on the overpass, which means traffic is backed up and barely moving at all. But all of that is okay because today when I got in the car, I chose to listen to Taylor Swift’s Speak Now album. Couldn’t even tell you why, other than it just struck me like it was a good idea.

So I listen to Better Than Revenge, then Dear John, and then Long Live comes on. And I’ve always had this strange connection with this song - something about the melody or the instruments or something has always kind of pulled at me.

And today, it brought me to tears. And it’s funny, because really, Long Live is about Taylor and her band, and how after years of being made fun of and laughed at by other musicians and critics, they finally made it. And I mean, I’m happy in life - with my friendships, with my marriage, my children, my home, my hobbies, and my job - but I haven’t made it. I’m not famous. This song shouldn’t resonate with me so deeply. I really don’t relate to the story she’s telling. Except I kinda do. Let me tell you why.

I said, “Remember this moment,” in the back of my mind. The time we stood with our shaking hands...

I was in Chicago and at my first ever Supernatural convention. I was in a line up in the hallway standing with hundreds of other Misha Collins fans, but I was alone because I didn’t know a single one of them. Turns out that didn’t matter. When I finally got into the room could see that I was actually standing in the same room as Misha Collins I couldn’t contain my excitement, and after literally flailing, the girl in front of me joined in and we became fast friends.

My hands were shaking. My heart was beating so erratically I felt like my chest was vibrating. I couldn’t feel my legs, and I was sweating profusely. It was the most excited/nervous/petrified I have ever been in my entire life, and I’ll remember that moment for as long as I live.

I said, “Remember this feeling.” I passed the pictures around...

In Toronto, at my second Supernatural convention, I was sitting alone and knew from prior experience it would be so much more fun if I made friends with the people I was sitting with. I’d be sitting with them all weekend, after all! So I did. I remember it started when somebody on stage made a mean (but harmless) joke about Misha, and I booed - loudly. The girls next to me nodded in agreement, and that was it, we were friends. After every op, we’d grab our pictures and then run back to our seats to share them with each other. We’d point out what we liked and what we didn’t. We’d go over every word, every look, every second of what it felt like to be close to our favorite people and we knew that we understood each other’s excitement and passion. We had found our people.

And it’s the same online after every convention. I sit and stare at pictures of my friends with their favorite people for way longer than I should. I listen enthusiastically and yell in all caps when they tell me about THE LOOK Misha gave them right before the picture was taken, or when Rob said, “Nice to see you again,” or what it felt like to have Jared’s giant body wrapped around them.

We pass the pictures around enthusiastically in this fandom.

I was screaming, "Long live the look on your face!"

It was one of my first ever photo ops, and it happened with Kim Rhodes and Briana Buckmaster. I wasn’t even huge fans of them at the time (BUT I AM NOW) but man, I was still excited. The best part for me during this op wasn’t meeting the famous people, though. It was sharing this op with my online-turned-real-life best friend, Michelle. We live in different countries, but I flew to Chicago and we roomed together. And Michelle was a huge fan of Kim and Bri. We had our photo op, which was one big squishy hug for the four of us, and while I thought it was fun and screamed at Kim and Bri how pretty they both were, Michelle was star struck. I can still see her face as clear as day in my mind today, a year later. She had tears in her eyes, and she was doing her damnedest not to cry, but the joy and awe she felt were broad casted all over her face. I loved her then and I love her now, and this is what I thought of when I heard that line today. “Long live the look on your face.” If I could create a world where she was that happy every single day, I would do it in a heartbeat.

This is what really got the tears flowing though: Can you take a moment? Promise me this: that you’ll stand by me forever. But if God forbid, fate should step in and force us into a goodbye... If you have children some day, when they point to the pictures, please tell them my name. Tell them how the crows went wild. Tell them how I hope they shine.

I have made friendships through Supernatural that I know will last a lifetime, but I’ve also made friendships that are strong and fulfilling in this moment that I know will not last forever. Because some of them are based solely on the fact that we are enamoured by the same show and the same people who are in the show - and that’s okay. Not every friendship is going to last forever. But that doesn’t make it any less meaningful.

So when I think about eventually losing touch with some of the people I spend so much time talking to now, this is what I think about. Please tell them my name. Tell them how I hope they shine. Because, God, even if I never talk to you again, you have no idea how deeply I want good, beautiful, long and shiny lives for you and your children. For the people you love dearest.

I hope one day when you’re old and grey, you find these dusty photo ops that we paid an obscene amount of money for, and you show your kids. I hope you tell them how awesome it was to squeeze our favorite people, and I hope you still smile about it thirty years from now. But more than that, I hope you point me out. I hope you show them who I am, and that you have a funny story to tell them about a time I made you laugh, or maybe a story about when you had a really bad day and I popped online at the right time and was able to make you smile instead. I hope you tell them about my kids, and funny things they said, and I hope you know that no matter how many years it’s been since we’ve talked that I will stand by you forever.

And I was screaming, "Long live all the magic we made!"

Listen, a lot of you create. You create art, and stories, and music, and poems. Your minds are unbelievable, and I spend a large chunk of my time sitting here wondering how I’ve become friends with some of the brightest, sharpest minds I’ve ever known. You help make the things I create better. You put feelings into words, give love to characters who need it, make fantasies become reality, and you support one another every single day whenever we do it. We share, and comment, and recommend what we love to other people who might love it, too. We might not love these characters or ship these two people together forever, but fuck if I don’t think of you guys when I hear: long live the magic we made. Because we have made magic, and we made it together.

And lastly: I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you.

We’re not going to be this passionate about this TV show forever. We’re not going to rewatch the same 400 episodes (TULPA) enough to re-watch them and analyze them and GIF them and make up headcanons about the things that are never explained properly for the rest of our lives. We might love it forever, but it won’t always be exactly like this. There won’t always be conventions. There won’t always be opportunities to hop on a plane to go watch our favorite band play together. There won’t always be another new fan fiction story to read and discuss.

But for the record, for however long this phase of my life lasts, goddamn did I have the time of my life with you guys. You helped me discover who I am. What makes my blood start pumping. You helped me learn things about myself I never would have learned if it wasn’t for a TV show. You made me love who I am, exactly the way that I am. You showed me that friendship between two people can be deep and fulfilling even when we’re not in the same country. You have made me laugh more in the last two years than I’ve laughed in the last twenty, and I’m not exaggerating.

You have yelled for me when a picture of my favorite person literally made me breathless. You have watched me cry when I didn’t get the experience I hoped for during an autograph session. You have spent days being my tour guide in New York City. You’ve invited me into your home. You’ve spent hours creating art for stories I’ve written just because you wanted to. You’ve sent me songs that made you think about my characters - and you were so spot on I cried. You’ve sent me birthday cards and gift baskets and even wrote me porn. You held my hand virtually when my aunt was diagnosed with cancer and all throughout the years she was fighting it. You pretended to care when I vented about shit you had no idea what I was even talking about. You’ve had my back and fought my battles when I wasn’t strong enough to do it myself. You pushed me into doing something I was afraid to do, and the payback was enormous. Your wit, your GIFs, your minds, and your commentary have brightened my life exponentially in ways I will never be able to express.

In a nutshell: I’ve had the time of my life with you.

Long live, you guys. Long live all of this and all of you.

#Supernatural #fandom #bffs #taylor swift #long live

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