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creatingnikki · 3 years

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What 2020 has taught me

1. Those things that seem like content for sci fi or pure fiction are actually things that can happen. To the entire world. Like a pandemic. And to you. Like a seizure.

2. Everyone is sad. Everyone is struggling. In different ways and in different measures. Makes no one special. But you still get to feel sad for yourself and be compassionate towards others. But it's also okay to draw boundaries because you're everyone too. Remember, not special? You're sad and trying to deal with it too.

3. Every job you have will not add value to your life. It will not teach you new things or give you people you'll want to stay in touch with. Sometimes some jobs will only be a season of your life. Even if the season lasts for over a year. It's okay.

4. You know how you thought picking a college and picking a major and picking your first job and picking a specific industry were all the career decisions you had to make? Yeah, no. It's never a one time thing. You could have a job as a marketing strategist for two years and then want nothing to do with it. And then you'll have to make another decision and work towards it. So I'd like to call it moves. It's like chess. You always have to make a move. And it always has to be strategic, yes. But the truth is in your 20s it probably won't. Even if you try. And as long as you're trying, you'll be fine.

5. You may have different sorts of friends like the one you only talk to about kdrama with or the one you met when you went book shopping alone and the friendship is all about books really. That's normal. But irrespective of why and how you became friends with them, if you consider them a friend then there has to be this basic sense of care, respect and empathy for each other. I don't care what people want to say. If you're faced with the worst trauma of your life, the least your friends can do is check up on you regularly. On text. And if they don't even do that then guess what? They aren't friends. They are acquaintances. Social media and quick promises make everyone seem like your friend. But they are not. They are just nice people who will be nice to you for specific periods and then wander away like you are a speck of dust floating in their journey.

6. You speak a lot and write and you express yourself and you’re emotionally mature but oh my god. You still hold in so much. You’ve known that at a subconscious level and over the last year people - experts - have told you that. You have also realized that you make your pain and sadness about pettier things because dealing with them, admitting about them, sharing that with your friends, is easier. You do that so that you don’t have to deal with the real stuff. Because it’s so damn painful. And you don’t know how to do it. Yet. Acknowledging is the first step anyway right? I know you’re confused about how exactly to let go of all this pain and sadness and feel lighter, and you know that talking to people really isn’t the solution, but I also know you’re smart enough to figure it out.

7. Talking about being smart...you know you’re different than others. Better. Special. Smarter. None of these are the right words. And you never voiced this out until this year because you knew it would make you come across as narcissistic. Some would say it’s because you’re an INFJ. But my mother once said that this may be the first time we are consciously living life but our souls are old and so our instinct and the things we know but can’t explain are because this isn’t the first time for our souls. The connections we feel with certain people, the reason we are so different from our siblings who grew up in the exact same environment with the exact same opportunities, our sense of right and wrong...it’s all because our souls learn and grow with each time and that’s why we are who we are. I think that’s probably how I can explain what I have always felt. That I am living in a different universe than everybody but I have to pretend to be in this one and dumb my emotions and thoughts down. Maybe that’s because my soul has lived through thousands of years while most around me are living their 100th life. Or maybe I’m just narcissistic, who knows?

8. You shift between talking in first person and second person but that’s because that’s how you think in your head and talk to yourself and live your life. You ask yourself things and you accuse yourself of things and you apologize to yourself and you comfort yourself. I think that seeps into your writing and the changing of the voices.

9. You always genuinely thought that you’d not be afraid of dying. And then what happened this October proved you shockingly wrong. I know it’s not so much being afraid of dying but the unbearable pain of knowing what that would mean to your family. So you have to be more prudent and less reckless with your life and the choices you make.

10. Regret is not something that plagued you but this year the realisation and pain of giving away your favourite books from your own personal collection to people you care about as a show of affection and them turning out to be ass holes or losers has hit you so hard. So, yes. No more of that shit. I really fucking want my copy of The Perks Of Being A Wallflower back. UGH. With the childhood picture of me inside it!

11. Sleeping at 5 am in the morning stops being fun or romanticised when you realise just how much harm it does to your body and mind. Literally every single disease and disorder can be traced back to a shitty fucking sleep schedule. It’s not just the hours you sleep but also the quality of sleep and the time you sleep at. So yes sleeping for 8 hours is healthy but not if that 8 hours is from 5 am to 12 pm. ‘Not a morning person’ is just another construct of capitalism and you don’t realise how many industries profit from having you believe that and staying up late or all night. Entertainment. Food. Alcohol. Pharma. Biologically and naturally you are a bloody morning person. And you don’t need 3 cups of coffee to begin your day or your phone notifications to get you to open your eyes and brain to wake up.

12. Sometimes you really have to stop taking people so seriously. I know the idea of treating people as casual friends or entertainment makes you want to fight that concept but you know what? Some people like Pineapple are ever only going to be good for that. No matter how much they ‘grow and change’. So keep them in the background for whenever you want some entertainment or drama. But please don’t clear up your busy schedule to meet them or send them gifts on their birthday.

13. If you don’t have the fruit juice or green juice within half an hour of making it then you are losing out on its most optimum health benefits. Or when you remove the white stringy stuff from oranges. That’s where all the actual nutrients are.

14. I am privileged and so are most of the people I interact with. The global pandemic has been hell for a lot of people around the world. Health wise. Financially. Losing people they care about. But I was blessed enough to be safe at home and have a job that I could smoothly do from home and not have a pay cut or 4-hour long Zoom meetings. So honestly when my friends tell me 2020 has been bad I have to stop and ask them why? Yes, the crippling uncertainty and anxiety is not something that can be undermined. But most people I know had very great positive life-changing milestones this year like moving away to another country for college or taking their first solo trip or getting married. So I have to ask them. Because I am not going to agree that everybody’s 2020 and pandemic narrative is the same.

15. Money gets spent really quickly. When I left my job earlier this year because of personal issues, I thought I had enough savings to last me a year. Full disclosure - I mean to last my personal expenses because I live with my parents. But it didn’t even last me 3 months. And so to use money wisely and buy things that provide utility than instant gratification is something to follow. Also buying one pair of really expensive but quality shoes is better than buying 5 pairs of affordable but low quality shoes that will have a very short life and force you to buy more. I know that higher price doesn’t always mean better quality but sometimes it does. And as an adult now I want to do the whole quality > quantity thing even with things and not just people.

16. Everyone in their 20s went through a crisis of what they should do with their lives and their careers and it’s not unique to the 21st century and the challenges of today. Whether it was Vincent Van Gogh in the 19th century or Sylvia Plath in the 20th, every single person, as brilliant as them went through the torture of making these decisions and living with their consequences. You may think I picked wrong examples for they both killed themselves but you know what? They were the people who really want to live more than anyone. They knew what life meant. And maybe if mental health help was more accessible back then their lives would be longer and more peaceful.

17. Telling people everything is overrated. You don’t have to talk about every single thing that’s on your mind or that’s going on in your life. The good and the bad and the mediocre. You have to be mindful about how much of yourself you’re giving away.

18. Re-watch Suits when people at work feel intimidating because the confidence + negotiation tactics that they show can actually work irl cos at the end of the day no matter in what position you’re dealing with people who have emotions and fears and insecurities and desires. You understand how to leverage that nobody can get the better of you.

19. You belong to yourself. No matter how much you love someone or how much they have done for you or how much you owe them - you belong to yourself. You can’t live your life for someone else. Everyone belongs to themselves first. No relationship, no promise, no circumstance should make you feel like you have to give up your life and make it all about them. If and when the time comes to die for them, go ahead. Take a bullet. Donate that kidney. Write them in your will. But live your life for yourself. And let them live theirs.

20. Twenty three was a challenging year. When it started you claimed the age 23 sounds boring and insignificant. Guess it proved you wrong. It hurt so much now. But that only means you’ll look back on it later and see how it added so much wisdom and resilience to your being. It doesn’t mean that it makes all the bad things that happened to you okay. Or that you should be grateful to them. Fuck no. It means that you should be kinder to yourself because at the end of the day, your mind and body find it in themselves to deal with whatever is thrown their way. They have your back. It’s time you learn to sit straight.

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drivingsideways · 3 years

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Kdrama women I love (Part 2)

Part 1 (here)

Sorry, not sorry, I just can’t stop thinking about them!

Cha Soo-hyun from Signal: Imagine having a powerhouse like Kim Hye-soo on your cast and then saddling her with an awkward/tragic workplace romance in lieu of idk actual character development that happens ON SCREEN as opposed to off it. I mean, Signal is excellently made, but there’s no denying that Cha Soo-hyun got a raw-ish deal. I would have loved to see her grow into the badass cop she is when we meet her first, but most of her time onscreen is spent reacting to events set in motion by The Men, and just, like, why. In my head, the perfect fic for Cha Soo-hyun would cover the years after Lee Jae-han’s disappearance and before Park Hae-young’s entry; so much of her struggle in the early years was to be taken seriously as a cop, and I want to see her doing that without Lee Jae-han’s help. I would also NOT be opposed to a post canon OT3; it could be incredibly fun to write the tangled dynamics of that, especially now that Cha Soo-hyun isn’t the wide eyed rookie that Lee Jae-han knew, and Park Hae-young’s YEARNING to belong would neatly fold into what his sunbaes could offer.

Ahn Young-yi from Misaeng: My god, this woman suffered in Misaeng. I just want the fic in which she lets herself be angry. I fully understand her choices in Misaeng- the tightrope that she’s walking in the hopes of survival- but I won’t deny that I felt robbed of the satisfaction of seeing her hurl a rock or three at the heads of her misogynist colleagues and boss. There’s probably a fic out there about how Young-yi starts to build her networks with the other women at One International, and how she climbs the ladder to power. I want this to be a story about women making space for the ones after them, and pulling them up with them. It’s the story she deserves, along with all the other women in that series, whose stories were sidelined to make space for The Men.

Yoon Hee-soo from Into The Ring: That woman is going to be President in ten years and nobody will convince me otherwise. Love her pragmatism, her wicked, trollish sense of humour, her ambition and the fact that she cares deeply but isn’t performative about it. She’s the one I would trust to Get Things Done, just as I would trust Goo Se-ra to rock the comfortable status-quo. Together (and with the intrepid Gong-myung) they will CHANGE THE WORLD. Where’s the fic, world, where??? ( side-eyes self) ps. I hear there’s a season 2 in the works and if it doesn’t give me some version of this fic, I shall be very sad.

Jang Ro-sa from Hospital Playlist : WHERE is the 70 episode show about the Life of Jang Ro-sa? I loved her from the first episode where she’s so matter-of-fact about her marriage of convenience; how on earth did she manage to raise a bunch of kids who ALL fell in love with God first and forever? Why didn’t she become a pianist? What are she and Jeong-su doing on that pilgrimage/ road trip ? I just want to know ALL of it. Someone write it * puppy face *

Kim Sang-sook from Into the Ring- Jang Hye-jin brings so much sparkling charm to her role as Se-ra’s mom, I just fell crazily in love with her. I just love how much she’s just herself and unfazed by other people’s opinions of her; i love that she fucks up on the regular but with STYLE. I think that’s a lovely trait that she’s passed on to her daughter- one that will carry her through her chosen life of MAKING THE WORLD BETTER. Anyways, where’s the fic where Sang-sook gets involved in some pyramid marketing scheme and Gong-myung has to bail her out of it and they both have to keep it secret from Se-ra and her dad? I demand this be put in my eyeballs AT ONCE.

Do Hae-won from Beyond Evil: My god, a villain’s villain. Gil Hae-yeon puts the fear of the devil into you every time she slithers onto the screen with her weaponized cloying, subservient femininity. She seems so brittle, but beneath it is the hard rock of years of bitterness. The show doesn’t bother to do more than hint at the reasons why- because of course, female villains are never afforded the interiority of their male counterparts, or even chance for understanding- but I think Gil Hae-yeon manages to convey both her resentment at this world ruled by men and their rules. and her contempt for them as a class in every scene. I wonder how things would have been different- if they would have been- if she’d had a daughter, instead of a son. Anyways, an absolutely riveting performance, and I think that’s the only reason I am sort of tempted to contemplate a post canon fic for her. How does she survive jail? What does she do after? Who’s going to write it for me? (SIGH.)

Jung Geum-ja from Hyena- I don’t think a lot needs to be said about why Jung Geum-ja is literally one of the best female characters ever to be written in a kdrama. Kim Hye-soo is in her element in her role as this half-gangster/ half- vengeful angel, 100% unforgettable woman. Love to see sexpot Ju Ji-hoon fold like a pack of cards in the face of that unbearably sexy combination of wit, grit and panache; but ALSO love watching every woman in a radius of 5 kms faint from lust and longing to be her and be with her at the same time. Luckily for me, I don’t have to write any of the fic, everyone who’s watched the show just head over to Gin’s AO3 page and treat yourself.

#kdrama #[fiona apple voice] ladies ladies ladies ladies #that's gonna be the tag #sorry i have no imagination

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pollylynn · 3 years

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Title: BPM WC: 900 Episode: Flowers for Your Grave (1 x 01)

It’s just a bit of serendipity at first. He metaphorically casts his eyes heavenward and pleads for someone—anyone—to come up to him and say something new. And there she is—a woman who’d like to talk to him about a murder. It’s Shave and a Haircut from him, and she doesn’t leave him hanging. It’s a detail he files away for when he tells the story later—a detail he will mercifully not have to create from the barren landscape that is his imagination—but that’s all he thinks it is. Just a bit of serendipity.

It’s not long, though, before that little bit of rhythm extends well beyond two bars. On one level, it’s amusing. It frustrates the hell out of her that they keep falling into it. She—and he knows this from the moment she throws open the interrogation room door exactly three seconds after the smells therein reach truly unbearable levels—she specializes in . . . whatever the opposite of rhythm is. A tempo free jazz dreck or something. She is a virtuoso at coming in somewhere in between the e, the and, and the uh to keep her victims constantly off balance. And yet, here the two of them are.

Here they find themselves all through their too-brief time in her chamber of olfactory horrors, and then through the rat-a-tat-tat with her Captain, who clearly wouldn’t dream of disrupting the groove the two of them irresistibly fall into. Even when she tries to resist, it’s hopeless. She’s silent in the briefing room. Mum is definitely the word, and yet the merest rustle of the trifold page in his hands acts like a pick-up measure and she comes in exactly on the downbeat.

What?! she demands, and they’re off. She peppers him with rhetorical questions. He answers with his own. She denies his premise—she scoffs at the idea that there’s always a story—and the duet shifts in his direction. It’s Sondheim-level patter on his end. She nods along, she arches an eyebrow exactly in sync, not in the least thrown by the rapid-fire shifts in time signature. It is a bravura performance on both their parts until it isn’t.

It was someone you loved.

That is the record-scratch moment. But why is the record scratch moment?

The look on her face—the way the shutters fall and hide the light in her eyes from him, suddenly and absolutely—is the most likely explanation. It would be, if he were anyone else, but this is what he does. He pulls levers and pushes buttons and approaches the whole wide world with a cheerful what does this one do? attitude. So as much as he’d like to give himself credit for a late-in-life growth spurt in the empathy department, it’s not the look on her face that’s jounced the needle right out of its very pleasant groove.

Self-preservation would seem to be in the number two spot, as far as explanations go. He has known Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD, for well shy of twenty-four hours, and already there’s little doubt in his mind that she not only would straight-up murder him, she could do it and somehow walk away with a commendation apologies from the city for putting her to the trouble. A desire to keep drawing breath might account for the fact that he hasn’t tried to figure out what the two of them could get going on the B-side, but that’s not it, either. He is lately of the opinion that drawing breath is pretty over-rated, for one thing.

It’s a conundrum—a surprisingly arhythmic word, given that it’s got a damned drum in it—but that’s what this record-scratch moment is. A conundrum.

That’s what it remains until he’s peering into tiny foam core windows in Jonathan Tisdale’s office. It’s the strangest thing, the way she falls into the most pedestrian back-and-forth with Tisdale. He’s annoyed by it. He is affronted, because he could be home watching one of the lesser CSI franchises if he was in the market for an interrogation this uninspired.

And then she’s practically dragging him out of there. She is hissing at him in front of the man she should be knocking off balance, and if she’s over their brief turn as a superstar duo, he’s prepared to go solo. So he does. He lands his punches, one-two, one-two—three—daughter, profit, happens to you.

The word children crashes into the word son. A soundless, anguished cry vibrates between Jonathan Tisdale and Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD. He is outside—utterly outside—the temporary world, population two, that cry creates.

It was someone you loved.

A sister. A father. Maybe even a child. That’s the someone something happened to. They are the someone behind the record scratch. He knows this and he doesn’t know it. There’s still his critical dearth of empathy, after all.

He doesn’t really know until her lips are practically brushing his ear and his heart falls out of one rhythm and into something far finer.

You have no idea.

No. He doesn’t have any idea, but he wants to have one. And he can’t stand the thought of a heart that broken beating in her chest. It was someone she loved, but not like that.

A/N: Out of things to watch. Struggling with every other kind of writing I might attempt. This is good discipline or something? We’ll see if it sticks IDK.

images via homeofthenutty

#Castle #Caskett #Castle: Season 1 #Castle: Flowers for Your Grave #Kate Beckett #Richard Castle #Johanna Beckett #Fic #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Fan Fic #Fan Fiction #Tell Me More #Writing

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suuung · 4 years

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Interconeccted, chapter (1) kylo ren x reader

a kylo ren x reader fanfiction. warnings: this fanfiction will develop dark themes as it goes on.

chapter 2: here

through which two force-sensitives could influence each other or even feel each other's physical, emotional or mental pain.

“The food we’ve managed to get will last us months.” Your cousin cheered.

You hum back reading one of the few books in the abandoned pile. All of them were quite dusty after finding them scattered on the ship you rested on. It was titled; The Forgotten History of Jedi

“Now we’ll just have to sneak it back.” She mumbled.

Shea grabbed the heaping bags and stepped out, putting them on the horse.

“Lets go!” She hollered, annoyed.

You reluctantly placed the book in your bag, leaving the rest behind. You sat up on the horse and felt sadness erupt through you again. The both of you live on your own in a small village, a very isolated one for sure. ‘Adventure’ like this didn’t happen often, only every few months. She thinks she knows well. She is the older cousin and the only one to take care of you after your family died of famine at your young age. It wasn’t common for families to survive on this planet, there was little to food and yet your family was not rich, and barley had made enough to get by so ultimately you and Shea are still struggling.

As you rode the horse back to town heat licked at your sunburned face and coiled around your limbs. Looking up at the bright sky and everything seemed to have a glaze. The headache that the heat brought felt unbearable. You suddenly felt your thoughts slip away, a blackness coming over you. Like a blanket, but not a blanket of warmth but a blanket of coldness making you recoil in fear. Suddenly, a sharp pain drove through you. Collapsing and falling on the hard gravel beneath you both. Pain sizzled through your legs up your chest increasing in small waves across your face. Swiftly your body curls into a small ball while the pain burns and radiates.

Everything became fuzzy; then nothing at all.

You woke, everything feeling broken and detached. The familiar decaying ceiling in your eyesight. You had bandages wrapped tightly around your head, assuming that was from the fall you sat up slowly. The headache was unbearable. Looking around you were alone and Shea’s bed across from you was empty.

You called for her but your response was silence. Glancing at the chipped and broken clock, noon just hit. She’s probably at the market selling junk.

There was water beside your bed, hesitantly reaching for a sip the glass slipped. Pain coming over you in sparks. Reflecting something sharp, making it worse each time it touched. The glass broke and made a loud shatter. You didn't wanna bother cleaning it up. It ended as soon as it started, although the headache was worse, the pain had subsided.

Swinging your legs over the bed and walking into the crooked kitchen catching yourself from tripping on your own feet. You lived in a small hut outside the village, fairly run down and little to no insulation. You were hungry, you hoped she would return soon as you looked at the empty containers.

You remembered the book from yesterday, your memories did feel fuzzy. You walked over and grabbed the book, returning to your room and sat on your bed.

The Jedi are the opposite of the Sith, another group of force wielders, the Sith use their passion, and other strong emotions to fuel their power.

Turning the page brought you to the index.

History Of the Jedi

Force Chosen

Movementuls

Force Bond

It caught your eye, going to the page number.

Common to occur between Jedi Masters and their apprentices, a Force bond, also known as Force chain or Jedi kinship, was a link through which two Force-sensitives could influence each other or even feel each other's physical, emotional or mental pain.

Stronger force bonds need a balance of the light and dark sides. Weakers have light and light; dark and dark.

Turning the page again you felt your fingertips burn.

Another page flip.

Fighting or hardship together with the forcebond causes their powers to become amplified as the bond between them grows stronger with every passing moment.

It is known for the beginning of a force bond to include physical pain bursts and may cause the pain to double by the effect of altering two minds.

This can’t be real, the tales were true about the force. Mother always told you and your sister it was a hoax, a scam. Something the galaxy could never accomplish.

Suddenly loud crashing and screams were heard from the village. Fear choked you as the face of your cousin appeared in your head. This must be another attack from the first order. You’ve heard hellish tales about them, they must be looking for someone.

You stumbled to the window looking out. Your heart sank. Everyone in this village has had a family member snatched. Giving a child freedom to roam was asking for the first order to take them.

You ran outside, grabbing a knife from the kitchen. Clutching onto your shirt you held it up to cover your mouth, wind was blowing furiously from the ships landing on your planet. Blasters were shooting civilians and they were taking men and children. You snuck behind ships, running over loose rubble and tumbling down steep sand, feet slipping as your throat shocked and inhaled deeper, faster crying for Shea.

You caught yourself off guard. A stormtrooper spotted you and yelled out. Your adrenaline demands you to run, you keep running but you know your time is up. Out of the corner of your eye you see something sharp and red shooting at you. You try to jump out of the way but it's too late. You scream and collapse to the ground as your wrists are bound and you are guided onto a ship along with other kidnapped citizens.

The whole thing felt fuzzy, and soon enough the doors closed and the ship took off. You woke to the doors opening once again, but now being inside a landing bay for ships. You must be on the imperial navy ship. Only bad things have been heard to be done here. A stormtrooper barked orders for everyone to stand, they grabbed each person kidnapped and pulled them into different lines, Men and women. A stormtrooper tugged harshly at your shirt shoving you into the line of other girls, everyone was terrified. You were all barked at again to follow each leader of your group. Still handcuffed you walked down the hallways of the imperial ship. It was dark and tourture filled.

You were halted, all of you given a number by a droid.

“CLASS: FEMALE: TROOP” “ID: 2310984”

You watched those numbers inbrand into a storm trooper suit, then gave them to you. You wanted to die. Your new life you must act as you can cope with being caged, now fed on a schedule as farmyard pigs, and spoken to without the slightest trace of love.

It has been a month in this hell-hole. You still havent seen a trace of Shea. Your life feels so meaningless, perhaps it's because there is no love here, no hugs or kind smiles, no-one to tell you everything will be okay. And then there are the eyes of everyone here, alive and dead, as if they are so desperate for this nightmare to be over, to be able to leave this place.

You started off your morning like all the other mornings. The female base dorms are cold and dark. You never manage to sleep so breakfast feels like an eternity to arrive. You are given cold scraps of food each morning, along with water. You are in stormtrooper training for the next 2 weeks. You still don’t know what to expect after this, perhaps things will lighten up and you will be brought more light into your new dark life. You are taught daily the mantra not to feel bad for the killings of villagers. Not to feel guilt anymore, not to feel human emotion. You’ve seen so many things this past month you want to forget, one thing still burns within you.

The image of General Hux and the Commander Kylo Ren. You were with your cohort of Stormtrooper Trainees going to retrieve practice guns. The mantra settling in your head once again, You are stormtroopers. You are the keenest weapon in the Emperor's arsenal. Do not fail him. Do not fail me. Your world felt in slow motion as you walked past the commander.

Your heart felt like it stopped beating and your whole body felt heavy, like it was pulling you. The shackles on your handcuffs strained and made noise.

Panic. It drove through me fast and hard.

Breath. It felt so hard to capture.

Movement. Something I could conjure once again.

Force you've never felt before, a force that was screaming at you to run but as if your body were reborn in its most perfect form.

You coaxed yourself to sleep each night trying to re-feel that day. To grasp those feelings of warmth and pulling you felt for that short moment. You needed to be close to him again, your body screamed and ached for it each day but you were still met with the same cold mattress each morning.

The helmet of Kylo Ren was all you saw each time you close your eyes. Suddenly you were brought out of thought by an announcement calling a meeting for all stormtroopers led today by General Hux and Commander Kylo Ren.

You and all the other female soldiers in your dorm put on your uniforms quickly, your heart pounded as you put on your helmet. Your leader lined you all up and made your way to the docks outside where all thousands of them were perfectly lined up. One screw up and your life will be over.

About a half hour later of stormtrooper groups getting led in to get ready for the announcement General Hux with Kylo Ren stood at the podium. Your heart started to pound rapidly as you kept your composite and stayed as still as you could. Anxiety crept up as you started to shake. Kylo spoke, his voice altered from the mask.

“As commander of the first order, we will be initiating an attack on the desert planet of Jakku tomorrow morning. Trainees will not be sent out but will remain on the ships as extras if needed. We are in search of Lor San Tekka. We believe he has a piece of the map leading us to Luke Skywalker.”

You began to zone out as Kylo stepped down from the podium and General hux began to preach about the attack. Your mind felt fuzzy as you kept your gaze on Kylo through your helmet. His cape flew furiously in the wind, flapping and whipping.

The more you stare the more dizzy you feel. A sharp pain woke you out of your trance. It was on the side of your head, like a headache of a million arrows shooting at you. Your arm fell down slightly but you picked it back up hoping no one had seen the slip up.

You kept your eyes on Kylo, and you swear you felt your heart drop out of your chest at the sight of him clutching the side of his head staggerly. He stumbled and looked down at the ground still clutching his head.

You gasped quietly as your heart pounded, the pain you had felt stopped completely the moment he felt it. Soon enough he stood and gathered his composter.

You felt yourself not being able to breathe properly, not being able to conjure what just happened. Then, suddenly, he turned his head towards your direction and the cold eyes of the helmet stung into you.

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commonwealthoccurences · 3 years

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Maybe (I’ll Say Maybe)

Word Count: 5,260

Day: 6/27

Prompt: Maybe by The Inkspots

Three Days

It had been unbearable. To leave, that is. The same way it was unbearable to watch Nick leave all the times that he had, to watch him walk out the door and wonder if he would return in the morning, or the following week, or at all. They had become sick of not knowing.

The argument wasn’t explosive in the way Sole felt it would be, the way they longed to scream some sense into him, to make him care more for his own wellbeing. It wasn’t the eruption of a volcano or the shattering of glass, but instead, the dissolving of glue or the disintegrating of paper soaked in water. Quiet, unmoving. Unremarkable, like the tears that slipped down Sole’s cheeks as they sat on the couch in the quiet, unable to look Nick in the eye. The silence that reigned when Sole had declared they were done watching him walk out the door.

Nausea had made its home in the pit where their stomach had once been. Piper had tried to convince them to eat a few times but the way they just looked up at her, face crinkled in misery, had made her sigh and simply ask them to drink more water to stay hydrated. When their expression turned listless in the coming days, Piper’s worry only grew.

One week

They replayed the way Nick- Detective Valentine would leave with little hesitation over and over in their head. He would swing his trenchcoat on and hook his fingers around his hat and call out a gravelly warning that he was on his way out. Then, the door would close behind him and the agency would grow steadily colder. Ellie would shake her head in disappointment at him and watch as Sole sunk back in their chair, fumbling the nail of their thumb against their bottom lip, lost in their thoughts.

Often Ellie would be so generous as to fix them a warm cup of tea and sit down across from them, reaching out to hold their hands in hers. She knew their hands got cold easily, and she’d rub the warmth back into them as she sat and listened to them empty their worries into the spacious room, handing them tissues sympathetically as their anger turned to tears. She understood. If only he could, too.

It was hard for Ellie to watch Nick leave. Knowing that it may be the last time they see each other, the last time she works with him. Nick dying would shatter both her and Sole’s worlds, and yet he took off for his cases without hesitating, without thinking it seemed. He’s gotten reckless in his old age, Ellie would often say jokingly. At first, Sole laughed. Slowly those laughs faded into agreeing hums. Then, nothing. Silence.

And God if it wasn’t quiet without him. In sound, in warmth, in feeling; it was quiet and still. They felt alone in the room, filled with files of tragedies and deaths long forgotten by everyone but Detective Valentine, who had to carry the weight of ghosts and those they left behind. Sole knew they couldn’t do it; they didn’t have the strength to carry the weight of two worlds on their shoulders, of the dead and the living, the past and the future of the Commonwealth. They asked Nick to reconsider, to cut down on the cases, to give them some sort of compromise so they didn’t look at the light of his eyes and see nothing but death and rot reflected in them. It was in his blood, he said, artificial or not, and he couldn’t let go, but Sole’s own grip was slipping.

Two weeks

Sole mindlessly scrubbed at a stray dish they’d left behind in the morning, something from breakfast. It wasn’t important. Not much seemed to be. They stared out the window and examined the horizon, searching for a silhouette they knew they wouldn’t see. A tilted hat, a swinging walk, a flowing coat. It wasn't theirs to look for anymore, and something about that tore them up inside.

There was an emptiness, something they so often encountered these days, in the way they were alone with the dishes. Often, before, Nick would come moseying into the kitchen, without his trenchcoat on and his sleeves rolled up, to make the chore more entertaining for them. He’d turn on the radio and crank it up loud, but not loud enough to hurt their ears, and start swaying with his hands on their hips, his chin resting on their shoulder as they laughed and scrubbed away. There was humor in the mundane, beauty in the grime and grit of the world around them.

That spark had faded from the view outside and they were left with the grays of the wasteland, and the dirt wouldn’t come off the plate despite the fact that they were rubbing so hard their knuckles were turning pale. Frustrated, they practically slammed the plate down on the counter with no care if it were to hold together, and pushed themself to climb the stairs and retreat to their bedroom.

It hadn’t been long since they’d moved back to Sanctuary. After occupying Piper’s house for about a week they could no longer take the concerned glances and the worried recommendations, so they plastered a cheerful look on their face and made their way out, hat tilted low on their face. As if that would stop Detective Valentine from recognizing them if he were out of the office, as if he hadn’t known them for years, memorized every curve of them, and let them walk out the door despite it all.

Maybe they were angry. Maybe this was the acidic sting of betrayal that had settled itself firmly in their heart, or maybe it was just sadness to a degree they’d never felt. Maybe not. They dropped down onto the edge of their bed, hands folded between their thighs, and stared out the window again. Birds fluttered past the window, singing their songs of love and loss, and Sole longed to join them. They longed to fly oh so far away and forget their worries in the vast expanse of the sky. Instead, they were weighed down with the weight of the impending future of the Commonwealth, and the knowledge that the one person they’d counted on to keep them from sinking under the crashing waves had turned and rummaged through his filing cabinet while they cried silently to themself.

Detective Valentine wasn’t heartless, no. He was warm, so warm, despite what he thought of himself. He was caring and fearless, bright and sugar-sweet, to the point where sometimes he made Sole’s teeth hurt. Yet, he was addicted, Sole decided. Addicted to the idea that he could make a difference, drawn to fantasies of fixing what was far past repair. Maybe that’s why he had fallen so quickly for them. They laughed bitterly to themself.

Sole knew from the very beginning Nick had issues; who didn’t, even before the War? There was a part of him that believed he didn’t deserve anything good, anything wholly worth fighting for, and they tried so hard to prove him wrong. Was it something they’d said that made him change his mind about fixing things? Were they not worth fighting for? Or was he testing them, trying to push them away to see if they’d come right back, despite it all? It didn’t matter, they supposed. It was over.

Three weeks

A settler had brought up a detective in Diamond City that could help them with their work against the Institute, considering he was a synth. Sole had hummed noncommittally and ignored the concerned look Preston shot at them, flashing the charismatic smile they suddenly found themself having to force and shrugging. It had come so easy to them before, when they knew someone had their back, and now there was an empty space to their right that they didn’t know how to fill., and it was a struggle to be confident when they felt alone.

Sole had waved as the settlers caravan left for a trip to Diamond City Market, giving no response to the call of, “We’ll let him know and see if there’s something he can do!” Preston caught the fabric of their shirt between his fingers and looked them in the eye, speaking low when he asked if they were doing alright. Two times in a few minutes was one too many for Sole to fake a smile and instead they replied with a simple, “I’m alive.”

Preston, to their shock, responded with a gentle smile, “That’s a start, General. You’re doing good, even if you think you’re not. Keep on keepin’ on.” He clapped them on the shoulder softly and kept moving.

They stood stock still in the middle of Sanctuary’s path, thinking to themself. Were they doing good? It didn’t feel like it, but Preston wasn’t someone to sugar coat something like that, or lie. Maybe they were doing alright, at the very least. They were still figuring things out, still fighting for the settlement they had built with Preston by their side. They drummed their fingers against their thigh and worried their bottom lip between their teeth; maybe they were okay, and that was certainly a start.

One Month

Sole was throwing knives in the fields of Sanctuary, their eyes squinted against the invasive sunlight, overshirt tied around their waist. They were waiting on Sturges to get back to them about their damaged pistol, feeling off balance without the weight on their hip. Preston came walking by, whistling a tune so familiar that they couldn’t place, and spared a moment to wave at them. They grinned and waved back before pulling their arm back to get good distance on the knife, and threw. It sailed through the air and stuck firmly in the middle of their makeshift driftwood target for the very first time, and they cheered, bouncing on the balls of their feet. Preston laughed, a genuine laugh that they hadn’t heard from him in a long time, and shook his head at their antics before resuming his patrol. Every now and then his shoulders would shake again as he suppressed his chuckles, even as he walked away.

Sturges called out, “Nice arm, Boss! I’ve got your 10mm all patched up for ya, if you wanna come take a look.”

Sole whirled around and raised a flat hand to their brow bone, shielding their eyes from the sun. Sturges stood in the covered patio area of their house, leaned over the weapon’s workbench he spent most of his time at, tinkering away. They made their way over and peered down at the bench in interest; as usual, his work was of the best quality one could get in the Commonwealth. Their gun was now shining metallic, well oiled, and ready to go, with all the parts in the proper place, despite the fact that they had practically given him scrap to repair. “Thank you, Sturges, seriously. I owe you big time.”

“Ah, don’t mention it, Boss. Happy to be of help.”

Sole gave him a grateful grin and picked up the weapon, turning it over to examine it one more time, and tucked it into the holster that had sat empty on their right hip for far too long. They gave a sigh of relief, something Sturges understood after being unarmed for an uncomfortable amount of time before, and felt relief flush out the tension in their shoulders. They gave another word of thanks to the resident miracle worker and made their way back to their target.

They tugged the axe out of the piece of wood and watched it splinter, then shatter. For a moment, they stood, looking down at the chunks of wood, the inside shades far lighter than the outside, crumbled like wet sand on the ground. The oxygen wasn’t coming in right suddenly, and the world looked dreamlike. Fake. They blinked a few times and tilted their head, trying to make heads or tails of what they were feeling. Then, abruptly, it faded as rapidly as it came. With an internal shrug, they kicked the shards into a neater pile to move later, and left them there in the grass.

Two Months

Sole was making a trip to Diamond City for the first time in a couple of months. Dogmeat panted at their side, a little more tired than they wanted from their long trip, but excited nonetheless to be out and about with his favorite person. It hadn’t been the same for him, they knew, living in Sanctuary without them when they’d taken to staying with Detective Valentine. He was happy now, though, and that’s what counted.

They stopped just outside the gate and rubbed a hand over the shaggy fur on his head. He bumped his muzzle up into their palm a few times and they laughed in response before swinging the weight of their backpack onto one shoulder and rummaging through it. No doubt the kids that ran around Diamond City would be elated to see their favorite travelling Minutemen mascot, demanding lots of playtime and cuddles while Sole took care of business, so it was best for them to get him food and water outside the gates.

It was obvious Dogmeat was excited to see the kids again despite the tiring day he’d had already, as he swallowed down the food Sole handed him without hesitation and lapped up the water in choking gulps before he turned back towards the gates. He didn’t leave their side; he was too well trained for that, but his attention was obviously elsewhere. Sole sighed and packed his things back in their bag before whistling to get his attention and waving a hand towards the open gate. Dogmeat yelped excitedly before taking off, charging ahead of them at their permission, straight into the settlement. Sole followed their eager pup at a more meandering pace, legs aching from the distance they’d crossed to get there. They spared an acknowledging nod for the Diamond City guards that had become almost friends during their time there and kept walking.

The air held a familiar, almost nostalgic smell; the combination of gunpowder and Power Noodles and something distinctly Diamond City-esque. Their ferocious guard dog was trotting up to the guards, sniffing at their palms for scraps of treats, his tail wagging so aggressively his butt was wiggling with it. Sole let out a chuckle as the guards looked around, knowing Sole was around somewhere, before “stealthily” slipping Dogmeat treats.

They jogged down the steps and stopped quickly by Piper’s place, rapping their knuckles against her metal door before popping their head inside. Her head snapped up and a bright grin spread across her face; they hadn’t seen each other since Sole had left. “Blue! You’re back!” She leapt up from the couch and crossed her living room in a few strides, wrapping them up in a tight hug.

Sole chuckled. “I am. Needed to stop by to mark down a couple shipment requests for Sanctuary and stock up on some seeds for the coming season. Couldn’t come back without saying hi to my favorite reporter, though.”

She pulled away and pushed their shoulder playfully. “I’m the only reporter you know, Blue. How dare you try and flatter me.”

“Ah, but it’s still true. You’re my favorite.”

They settled in for a bit to catch up, keeping a careful eye on where the sun was sitting in the sky as they laughed along with her jokes. Something about the moment felt a little stale, worn out and ready to be let go of as they sat on a couch they’d rested on so many times before. It wasn’t Piper. No, she was such a good friend, someone they cherished and trusted. It was the space, the air, the lighting, everything that was just so Diamond City. Everything that no longer belonged to them, no longer had a place in the main stage of their life.

So they said their goodbyes, promised to see her again soon, to keep up with her life and check in on Nat when they had the chance, and left. When the door shut behind them with a resounding metal clang they felt relief, like they were leaving behind a burden they could no longer carry. They took a moment to examine the sky, it’s fluffy clouds and colorful shades of blue, before glancing around for Dogmeat.

He was lounged against one of the barstools at Power Noodles, his tail flopping lazily against the compacted dirt, fully relaxed. Their eyes moved upwards to find a familiar figure with her legs crossed neatly in front of her, a bowl of noodles on the table, and a newspaper in her right hand. Sole felt nothing but ease at the sight of Ellie. They barely hesitated before they made their way over and placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

She jumped, as she often did, and a hand flew to her chest in surprise. Sole laughed, like they were following a script and repeating a moment that had happened so many times before, and steadied Ellie on her barstool before she lost her balance. Deja vu prickled at their scalp uncomfortably but they kept the easygoing grin on their face. “Hey you, how’s it goin’?” They asked.

“Well, you’ve just startled five years off my life, but other than that, fantastic.” She huffed in fake exasperation. “Really, Sole. I’d forgotten how sneaky you are.”

Those words shattered the almost nostalgic feel to their visit. Ah, yes. The times where she and Sole would hang out, tossing back and forth ideas for new comics or jokingly pitching book ideas while waiting for Nick to return. Sole was infamous for being quiet as a mouse, creeping throughout the space despite the creaky wood and rusty, squeaky metal, taking chances to sneak up and startle Ellie. They had a good laugh about it. Before.

Ellie seemed to realize she’d misjudged her words and her bright expression faded to something dimmer, more hesitant and apologetic. “Anyway, how have you been?” She asked, attempting to patch her error.

Sole forced the grin back on their face to show her everything was okay, despite it all. “Ah, y’know me. I’m getting shit done. There’s always more to do, but Preston and Sturges have my back. I don’t know where I’d be without them.” They laughed, fondness flooding out their previous upset.

Ellie’s posture relaxed when she realized Sole’s smile had turned a little more genuine. “That’s good. I’m so glad you’ve found…” She trailed off, unsure of where to go from there. “Anyways. It’s so good to see you, Sole. You look brighter.”

They nodded and exchanged an understanding glance at Ellie. She was happy they’d moved on, for the most part, and found something else to redirect their energy into. They knew it was difficult for her to watch them fall apart every time the Detective had work; it must’ve been some relief when the tension finally broke for her, too. Sole sighed loudly. “Well, I’ve gotta get things scheduled for Sanctuary so we can get back by sunrise tomorrow. You look good, Ellie, take care of yourself, yeah?”

“You, too, Sole.”

They were distracted all throughout their chat with Myrna. Just one alley away, one row of buildings, was somewhere they’d called home. Somewhere they’d danced and laughed and cried. They wondered if he was there, leaned over his metal desk, cigarette in one hand and a pencil in the other, his hat tilted over his brow as he examined the files he had. Maybe he was out on another case, and had left Ellie in the space by herself. Guilt panged in Sole’s gut; they couldn’t imagine being in that office alone, wondering where Nick was.

It was the urge they had, to run back to the office and ask him how he was, to ask if there was anything they could do to make things easier, that had them rooted to the spot. It wasn’t their place, not anymore. They gave it up when the weight of the world he’d created nearly broke them. They had their own responsibilities, with their own people, and a second-in-command back in Sanctuary waiting for them so they could arrange stock for the store on their main street. The world they’d made themself, with Preston and Sturges help, was flowering so much more beautifully than they could’ve imagined two, three months ago. Diamond City wasn’t going to keep them.

So Sole arranged the details of the shipment and got the estimated delivery dates, asking Myrna to tell the traders they had good tips for them once they arrived and a hot meal if they needed, and let out a loud whistle to bring Dogmeat back to their side. They checked his paw pads, looked through his coat for burs, and made sure he was alert and ready before sending another wave Ellie’s way and making their way to the exit. It was time to go home.

Five months

“What made you leave? If you don’t mind me asking? If it’s too much, I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t worry about it Preston.”

Sole cast a reassuring look in his direction and returned to looking out over the lazily flowing river that bordered Sanctuary. Their feet were kicked up on a broken part of the stone wall, their arms folded behind their head to protect it from the harsh edge of the bench they were seated on. The sun was rising, taking its sweet time, just as Sole and Preston were. They’d started a tradition of waking up extra early some days, when the day before wasn’t back breaking and didn’t leave them with bone-crushing exhaustion, and spending time together while the world slept.

It was different, brand new, even. Having someone reserve time for them, despite their obligations. God knows Preston could use more sleep, always could, and they told him that many times, but he brushed it off and said if they wanted he’d be there. They wanted. He was there.

Sole blew out a dramatic breath and glanced around at the trees. “I dunno, it was a lot of things. I felt like I was living with a ghost. He was just so invested in other people it felt like I was the only one in the relationship. I spent so much time missing him I forgot what I was missing, I think. That’s not to speak badly of him. He loved me when he was there. But I think he was so busy trying to give other people the chance to have a good life that he forgot that we needed to do that for each other, too. And I couldn’t take it anymore. It felt empty, like I was in limbo whenever he wasn’t there, which was most of the time.”

Birds chirped, settled on the branches of a nearby birch tree, gossiping back and forth with each other quietly. One fluttered their feathers and tilted it’s head, and the other chirped back. Preston adjusted his hat and considered his next words carefully. “Do you… still love him?”

Sole mulled this over. “Kind of. I love the memories and his heart. He’s so selfless and kind. But more in the way you might look fondly at a sentimental item with good memories attached, and then put it back in it’s box and go back to your daily life. It’s…” They took a deep breath. “It’s in the past. I let go of the bitterness, but I didn’t forget, and I certainly don’t love him romantically anymore. He’s a good man, but he isn’t mine, and I’m not his, and that’s just how it is.” They shrugged.

Preston watched them as they turned and looked at him, the rising sun reflected in their eyes, a soft, fond smile on their face. They’d seen it before, once, when they’d checked in on them at Detective Valentine’s agency around a year ago. Except this time, it was brighter, and it was for him. It knocked the air out of his lungs, and he looked away, down at the sprigs of grass at his feet, with a shy grin.

They tilted their head back and let the sun's rays hit them as it peeked over the horizon. With a resigned yawn, they stretched out their arms and legs, letting out a small groan at the feeling of finally shaking some of the sleep from their limbs. Trying to pump themself up for the day, they slapped their hands against their thighs and stood and turned towards Preston. They reached out their hand, breaking into his line of sight, and he looked up at them. Dramatically, like something you'd read about in a pre-war romance novel, their face was haloed by the light, their calloused hand held out just for him. He accepted it slowly and let them pull him to his feet. Their shadows crossed as they made their way back to the middle of Sanctuary to begin discussing their plans for the day.

One year later

It seemed like they were sending settlers out on runs to Diamond City every couple of days now. The settlement had grown more than they realized, time flying by as they kept busy with the growing list of chores and trying to keep the Institute in check. After bringing this up to Preston, he shrugged and said, “I guess it’s our turn. It’ll be nice to get out of Sanctuary for something other than a fight for a change. I’ll let Sturges know we’ll be gone.” And that was that.

Sole and Preston made their way across the Commonwealth, side by side, as they had done more times that Sole could count, Dogmeat bounding ahead of them to chase oversized butterflies the size of Sole’s head. They would laugh and watch as he would get overzealous and topple himself over by building up too much speed, or jump back as the butterflies flew at him and come racing back to Sole. A guard dog, indeed, but he was no match for their fluttering wings.

Once they were far out of sight of Sanctuary and just past the Drumlin Diner, Preston casually reached over and caught Sole’s fingers between his own. After a bit of adjustment to avoid their knuckles sitting uncomfortably, they grasped back and lifted their joined arms to kiss the back of his hand, embracing the way he got flustered and looked down with a smile, a habit of his they found endearing. Their right hand was occupied with his, but their left was always available, ready to grab the gun that weighed down their left hip with every step they took. It was the Commonwealth, after all.

Making it to Diamond City was surprisingly uneventful, especially for the chaos of the wasteland. Preston commented that they were finally getting some decent luck with the world outside Sanctuary, and Sole had to agree. It seemed the raiders had been as common as radroaches lately, so any break from their infestation was a welcome one. They made their way through the gates and Sole rolled their eyes at Dogmeat taking off like a bolt of lightning as he did.

Preston squeezed their hand before dropping it, much to Sole’s surprise. It wasn’t exactly a secret in Sanctuary that they were together, and though they didn’t exactly shove it in people’s faces, most of the time Preston wasn’t afraid to show that he cared for them. Their expression was quizzical when they looked over at him, but he didn’t look their way and kept walking. Something was bothering him.

They caught him by the sleeve of his shirt and pulled him aside, down the alley that led to Dugout Inn, and glanced around. No one was within earshot. “What’s the matter?” They asked softly.

He avoided looking at them still. “I just thought you wouldn’t want to, uh, advertise things.”

Now they were even more confused. “What? Preston, people already know.”

“Not- not everyone.” He shifted and looked from the ground to down the alley, scratching the back of his neck.

Sole finally caught on. Preston didn’t want Detective Valentine to know if they didn’t want him to. They swallowed harshly, wondering just how bothered he was about the idea of them wanting to hide their relationship, when they were the one who wanted to shout it to the world. Sure, initially hiding it was the best choice, to make sure people didn’t think Preston had his position because they were together. But now? Now they were proud to tell people. They’d grown far past worrying what other people thought.

Unable to find the words to reassure him because they were in disbelief that he thought they could see anyone but him in their future, they simply stepped forward and caught his chin gently between their thumb and forefinger. They paused, waiting for permission. When he redirected his gaze to look at their mouth, then their eyes, and didn’t pull away, they kissed him.

Message received, it seemed, when he caught their hand with his own again and brushed his nose against theirs after pulling away. “I just didn’t know.” He was a little breathless and Sole had to chuckle.

“You have nothing to worry about, ever. I’ve never been happier than with you.”

He grinned and squeezed their hand again, but didn’t let go this time. Instead, he led them confidently out of the alley and towards Myrna’s shop so they could talk to her about their shipments and getting on a regular schedule. Sole laughed happily at the change in attitude, their shoulders shaking as they moved to catch up with him, considering he was practically dragging them by his grip on their hand.

As they made it halfway through the center of the settlement, a silhouette caught their eye. A tilted hat and a familiar face lit up by the flame of a cigarette, smoke curling above his head, his trenchcoat waving ever-so-slightly in the breeze. He didn’t look up from his newspaper until they laughed, but the familiar sound caught his attention, and he glanced up in confusion. They both did a double-take at the same time. Preston was caught up in conversation with Myrna and they took a moment to look over Nick. Worn, more than the last time they had seen him, but alive. That’s always what counted, right? He was still alive. He was doing good. Without another glance they gave him a polite nod and smile before turning back to Preston. “Wanna get some lunch before we head back?” They asked.

They didn’t look back at the detective, but he stared for a moment before slipping back through the alleys to the office. He pushed open the door and in a recognizable drawl called out, “Ellie! I’m back.”

Ellie took the stairs two at a time and gripped him tightly before he could get another word out. He laughed and caught her around the waist, making sure she didn’t knock him off balance. “It’s good to see you, Nick.” Her smile was warm and it was hard for him to pull away, so he didn’t.

“I think I’m gonna take some time off, El.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah. I feel like I never see you anymore. I miss you too much to head out anytime soon, doll.”

Note: Because I don’t want the tone of this to be misconstrued; no part of this is meant to imply Sole should’ve stayed and changed Nick. This is simply meant to show two people learning from a relationship that didn’t end in the best way and changing for the better. Sole leaving was them standing up for themself and what they wanted, and Nick learning from it was him taking the best from a situation that sucked. Thanks for reading!

#Fallout 4 #Fo4 #Fo4f #Fallout 4 February #Fluff #Angst #Hurt comfort #Songfic #Nick Valentine #Preston Garvey

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politicalmamaduck · 4 years

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Reylo Fic Recs: Fantasy, Fae, Magic, Fairy Tale, and Mythology

Ours Is The Fury by @shmisolo

Rey was tasked with taking Storm's End for her king. She defeated the Storm King Snoke in the Rainwood, but when she proceeded to the castle itself, preparing for a long siege, things did not go to plan.

A Man Called Winter by @reylotrashcompactor

The girl didn’t dream. Perhaps it was because she needed more to fuel nighttime sojourns than fantasies of a full belly, of escaping the desert. Perhaps she exhausted all these dreams years ago, falling to sleep in the soft embrace of hope and waking in the hard grip of reality. Or perhaps dreams simply could not permeate the armored shell she slept inside, those rusted walls resistant to blaster fire as well as the simple comfort of imagination. Maybe this was why, on a particularly stifling night, when sleeping on her gritty pallet in the too-still air finally proved unbearable, and she had rucked the mess of salvaged pilot seats and threadbare blankets into the sand outside her door, that he came to her first. She laid under the stars, straining her exhausted body for a cool breeze, and found sleep. And he found her.

Between Death and Winter by @shmisolo

“I’ll answer none of your questions, crow,” she snapped.Ben placed the butt of the spear down in the snow and leaned on it as he sheathed his sword. He was breathing more heavily than he wanted to admit as he looked down at her.You should kill her, then, he thought in a voice that sounded very much like the Lord Commander’s. If she’d rather die, then let her die.Except there was something wrong in that. He didn’t know why, but it felt wrong.“Pity for you,” he said and he broke the spear over his knee. “I’ll be taking you with me back to Castle Black.”The moment the words were out of his lips, he regretted them. He was the First Ranger, he was in the middle of a ranging—he didn’t have time to keep a spearwife hostage.

all true lovers are by @abstractragedy

She might seem lonely, but Ben can sense that this forest is her faithful audience, and she is nothing but alone. The birds chirp a symphony to her, and the greenery around her bows, grateful to be blessed by her beauty. She truly is beautiful, but that’s not the entire reason he is so drawn to her. It’s her Magic.

Wintertide by @transpogrrl

It was important work, gathering fuel for the Burning of the Ren, though only an outcast like the Scavenger could do it. The ceremony marked the turning of one year into the next, and ensured the light would come again to drive back winter’s darkness.The good Queen had tried to change the ancient rite, to mark the year without the loss of one more soul from their war-torn land. But in the ten years since her decree, the disasters sweeping over them had only multiplied. Famine, flood, unearthly winds and the summer’s fires had torn at people’s goodness, and the refugees that sought the Queen’s peace had only taxed it more. When a Wizard suggested that only human sacrifice would appease the angry spirits, the people listened, and demanded a real Ren for the fire.

The Scavenger Bride by @the-reylo-void

After a fairytale summer romance, Rey of Jakku sees her beloved, Prince Ben Solo of Alderaan, off to his uncle's temple, only to learn of his death at the hands of the Dread Knight Ren, a feared warrior who never takes prisoners. But fairytales are never quite that simple, and Rey soon finds herself swept up in a game of political intrigue that threatens to tear the galaxy apart. With new lifelong friends (thieves, but who's counting), mostly-dead ex-boyfriends with too many names, a grumpy wizard who wants nothing to do with any of this, and POUS (Porgs of Unusual Size), Rey's got her work cut out for her and will need her wits, strength, and the strange force she's felt inside of her for years to find her true love.

The Hunter and the Swordsman by @dreamsdescent

It was the first part of the night, and the Hunter was rising in the sky. Four stars stretched out in each direction, with a belt of three across the middle.For many generations he had watched over her kind during these long nights in the depths of winter, and now he was her only companion.The star that made the Hunter’s right shoulder shone red, reminding her of warmth, of flowers and flesh and blood, of all the things that sustained life amidst the cold emptiness of the heavens.With the fire of earth at her back and the fire in the sky over her face, Rey calmed herself and listened. Soon she could hear it, the song of the red star, low and lonesome like the call of the mourning dove.She reached out to it as if it were to someone, and sang a quiet, but high and warbling answer, as if to say, you are not alone. Whether she was reassuring herself or the other, she did not know.The red star blinked in the sky, beating along with her heart as she fell into a dreamless sleep.

Stolen Hearts by @capaldisrighteyebrow

As the Judge of Souls, Rey weighs humans' hearts to assign their fates. When an imposing man who goes by Kylo Ren shows up without a heart, Rey seizes the chance to solve a mystery that threatens the universe. Returning to the mortal world together, Rey and Kylo rush to find his murderer and restore balance.

The Dragon Queen's Moon by @diadumene

“My handmaidens once told me a story,” Daenerys mused. “During my time in Essos, I would hear many variations of the story. Would you like to hear the one I liked best?”After a moment, Sansa nodded. “I would like that very much, Dany.” Dany gave her a look of approval and straightened her back. “Let me tell you the story of how the dragons were born and the moon and the sun fell in love with one another…”

All In Her Arms by @aionimica

Three things are to be expected when the dragon came back to the stars. The first was that one didn’t leave their home at night.The second was that one didn’t go check the noise they heard at the edge of the woods, no matter the cause.And last and final and arguably most important was that one most definitely did not get married.

in this white wave by @something-pithy

It was King Kylo’s season, and he had been born to rule it. Blood of the Tuatha de Danaan ran in his veins, yes, but in addition to the most glorious of the sidhe, the darkest of the Unseelie. He had been born to break the wheel and rebuild it anew, to rid the world of the systems and order that stifled it and bring the Unseelie back to power so that they could set the fae free once more. And he would be enjoying his victory -- the death of his twisted, decrepit master, his rightful place in the universe secured, the triumph of the Unseelie over the Seelie -- but for an impudent nocker, a tinkerer, a little no-one who had worked her way into his very soul.In which King Kylo of the Winter Court and Rey of the Summer Court struggle with the past, themselves, and their ferbidden Seelie/Unseelie luuuuuurve.

echoes (again) by @soul8

again and again, she slips from his grasp like moonlight (reincarnation au where ben seeks her through their past lives and maybe, just maybe this time this time will be the last)

there may be something there that wasn't there before. by @aquawolfgirl

She’s a thief, small and lithe. Her days are spent pickpocketing and snatching from market stalls. She has the sun in her skin and the light in her smile. She is beauty. He is a prince, at war with himself. He is a mix of a man, a hybrid of containment and utter chaos. He has the night in his hair and hatred in his eyes. He is beast.cShe just stole from the wrong garden. “You are aware that doesn’t belong to you, are you not?”

Like Blood, Like Honey by @lariren-shadow

“Sweet Rey,” Kylo said as he gently grabbed her chin. “We’re all monsters in the Unseelie Court.”When Rey moves in with her grandfather the summer before college she expected a part time job at best. Instead she found herself mixed up in the world of faeries.

Waves Calling Her Home by @shelikespretties

“When will you return to me, Selkie wife?” he taunted. “Have they hidden your skin that well?”She nudged him hard in the ribs with the foot he’d been cradling, pushing him away. “I’m no one’s wife, and my skin is safe exactly where I placed it. I’m not coming back. I’m here for a reason.”

The Sands of Jakku by ASingleWhiteDoe

Rey is a street rat and a scavenger in the deserts of Jakku, but when a haggard man approaches her and Finn about a lamp located in a strange and wonderful cave, all of that changes.

between belief and the sea by @thewayofthetrashcompactor

Rey has a busy schedule: between her part time jobs, trying to get a degree, and breaking into certain people's homes to steal items she can pawn off to Unkar Plutt, she doesn't have time for anything mysterious or unusual. And she's not exactly in the habit of returning lost property. However, something gets her to make an exception. Which somehow mixes her up with Ben Solo, and that turns out to be a hard bond to break.

Song in a Thousand Pieces by @thewayofthetrashcompactor

Snoke holds up a hand. “A nightingale.”The man bows. “Yes, my lord.”“In the Jakku forests.” Snoke’s voice is emotionless.The man pauses before answering, unsure of himself. “Yes, my lord,” he finally says.Snoke settles back into his throne. “Kylo Ren," he orders, and Kylo swiftly steps forward. "Bring it to me.”

Paradise Regained by @lasthopesolo

Where all fates of the universe are decided, there lives a wandering immortal, leaving behind in her wake dried and decayed things. Rey, bringer of death and rot, worries she will never find her place of belonging. Everything changes when she comes across a wailing immortal, the scent of spring clinging vigorously to him as fresh flowers dance in the wind around him.

Wherever There is You, I Will be There Too by @optimus-pam

According to Greek mythology, Tartarus is the deep abyss used as a dungeon of torment and suffering for the wicked. Rey journeys there in search of a lost soul.

it shall not be death by TolkienGirl

Rey of the Jedi Knights is sent with her sword and Holy Fire, to destroy a palace of thorns.It doesn't quite go as planned.

Fated by @shmisolo

Emperor Palpatine declared that it was the new horse in his stable that would reward Kylo of Alderaan’s saving his life, fulfilling the Law of Surprise. But the fates had other plans, and would not be denied.

My own fics in these categories:

Aníron

“Do you remember when we first met?” he asked, tracing her cheekbone. “I thought I had strayed into a dream,” she murmured, looking up into his eyes.“Long years have passed; you do not have the cares that you carry now.” He sighed, looking down and burdened for only a moment. He looked back up at her, focusing his powerful gaze once more. “Do you remember what I told you?”She could not meet his gaze. She knew the words; they were etched on her heart. Yet she still could not believe them, could not believe that he had said them in the first place, let alone held himself to them all these years later. “You said you would bind yourself to me, forsaking the immortal life of your people.”

your love is my immortal crown

A young woman makes a choice and ascends her grandfather’s throne, becoming a goddess and a queen to save her lover, the god of spring, who will stop at nothing to return to her.

The Prince and the Dragon

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, there lived a prince who met a dragon woman.

if it were only the stars we had wanted to conquer

Amid a backdrop of persecution of magic users and First Order colonization, Kylo Ren discovers a powerful fellow magic user named Rey on a mission for his master. There is more than meets the eye with Rey's magic, however, and she longs to understand her true calling. Yet her fate is inextricably bound with his own.

I am sending back the key

Rey's mysterious new husband, Ben Solo, asks her not to enter his study. But who is he really and what is the truth about his family history?

Hidden in the Desert Sands

The prince ran away from home, and found himself in the desert. A scavenger's kindness reveals more than scrap metal buried under the sands.

My other fic rec lists:

#reylo #fan fiction #fic recs #my writing #mythology au #fae au #fantasy au #fairy tale au

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luna-01l · 4 years

Text

The Fall Of The White Wolf [1]

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia X Child!Reader

Warnings: blood, injuries

Words count: 1700

Summary: Geralt is found almost dead by a young girl who saves his life, with her he will find that he is not the only one with secrets and painful past.

A/N: I love all the love you guys are giving to this. Please, do not stop! Tell me what you all think about this one!

masterlist // prologue

Walk around the woods was a thing in your daily life. It wasn’t because you enjoyed - a though you might, but she would never admit it - but because you needed it. In the woods you could find herbs, flowers, many types of wood, and others things. You never know when you might need them, especially when you live in a place so far away from the market or any close town, the only way of surviving it’s improvise.

It was a day like any other, you was walking tediously into the woods, looking for a special flower for medicine, when you see him.

A strong man with white hair was laid on the floor, blood all over him. Your first instinct was run, escape to far far away from any contact with people. You didn’t knew him, he could be bad. But the man was in a bad shape, he was really hurt and could be dead. The thought of leaving him there, like he didn’t exist or you didn’t saw him sicked you.

In that chaotic world, you knew that kind thought would end up killing you, but you promised yourself to be different from the heartless people that crossed your way. With that, you made up your mind.

You set your basket on the ground far from the man, and walked slowly towards him. He was dead, you was sure of it. No human would survive a wound like that.

Getting closer from the body you could see the wound better. It was something you never saw before, but then, you smiled ironically from your own thought. What had you saw anyway?

You kneed next to the man carefully, afraid he might wake up and looked at him. He was different from anyone you had ever saw, although you didn’t saw many people to compare.

Looking at the man, a faintly sound reached your ears. It was difficult and weak, but it was there. The weak sound of his heartbeat. You gasped in shock. How it was possible? No one survived that kind of injury.

You looked around. There were no signs of battle. It was just him, so you could breathe more relieved. The last thing you needed was people fighting nearby. People meant danger.

You looked around again looking for something that might help you. Then you saw the horse.

It was nervous, and agitated. You wondered if the animal belonged to the man. You got up and walked quickly to the horse, but with light steps to not scared the animal.

The horse looked at you, staring straight into your eyes. It seemed to beg for help. If you concentrated enough, you could hear the animal’s desperate plea to save its owner’s life.

You raised your hands, trying to show the animal you didn’t mean harm. It seemed like the horse understood, it suddenly became calm, and you slowly approached and patted the horse’s head. Then you quickly approached the carriage, trying to find something that might help you.

The thought that these things might not belong to him but to a stranger who might come suddenly, startled you, but you shook your head and decided to risk it. No one would go there, that was the only carriage you had seen in months and he was the only man around.

With that thought you picked the bag that was there and looked. It didn’t had much, but had everything you needed.

You ran back to the man, suddenly afraid that he had stopped breathing. He hadn’t. His breathing was weaker and harder, but his heart was still beating.

You put the bag next to you and started taking everything you was going to use. Bandages, herbs - which he had a lot, surprisingly - and oils. That was when you saw the little flask with a black liquid. You took the glass curiously and examined it, almost immediately recognizing what it was.

You looked to the men in understanding. He was a Witcher! Now it made sense why he would be there, and why he was so badly hurt.

You hesitate. Why was you doing this for a stranger? You wondered. Because you promised to be different. A voice answered softly in your mind. And you will end up being killed for it.

Your hands started to shake lightly with the thought of what you was going to do. You took some deep breaths, thanking the gods for be morning. This it would be much more difficult if it was dark.

When your hands steady a little more, you began the work.

You took the flask, raised the man’s head a little, and made him drink. “The potions that witchers drink are toxic to humans, so much so that the mixtures would be lethal. It is the magical and genetic enhancements that allow witchers to consume them and enjoy their benefits.” You remembered what you read somewhere. You took another flask of the black poison and putted in his wounds. He hissed in pain, still unconscious. At least he’s giving some response.

You stopped, looking for some sign that it was working. Suddenly, the man became more and more pale, like he was already dead. Black veins appeared in his forehead and neck. If it wasn’t for the glass on your hands, and the effects you knew it would give him, you would freak out, thinking that he was already dead.

You had to stop the bleeding or else he would die from blood loss. Although the black liquid had helped, it wouldn’t be enough. You picked up the herbs and dressings, pressing against the wound. He hissed in pain again, even though he was unconscious.

You closed your eyes, trying to shake the fear away, and concentrate in the life that it was in front of you.

For a moment you could feel everything, and the feeling was overwhelmingly good. you had forgotten how good it was. You could feel the warmth of the light that surrounded you, the heat of the sun, the inviting noise of the trees, who were also feeling your energy, the smell of blood, iron and salt… every little drop of water… but you didn’t dare open your eyes.

But all that feeling suddenly stopped. All that warm was replaced by the familiar and pain. It was weak at first. Just a little pain you could ignore. But with each passing second, it grew stronger, closer, until it was unbearable. Your hands began to shake again with the effort. You had to go on for a little while. Just a few more seconds. Keep going. Until you feel his heart beating faster.

It was torture. But you finally felt. The blood running faster through his veins, his breathing steading, and his heartbeat faster. It was working. Maybe he would live to see another day.

You tried to calm down and fill your lungs with oxygen. You closed your eyes and waited for the pain to disappear, gritting your teeth tightly.

After a few torturous minutes, the pain subsided and you managed to open your eyes. You tried to hear his heart beat again, and it was stronger than before. The bleeding had stopped, but you had to clean the lesion to prevent an infection, the problem was that you didn’t have the necessary materials there to do so.

You looked around, biting your lower lip, trying to figure out what to do.

You did everything you could out there in the middle of the woods to save him, with the things it was provided, but it wasn’t enough.

You would have to do more if you wanted to save his life. And the only place you could take good care of him was in the cabin.

You looked terrified with your own thought. No! You wouldn’t do that. Risk yourself like that was just stupid. Why would you do this for a stranger?!

Then, you looked again to the man on the floor with his heavy breathing, and you knew, you just knew that you wasn’t going to let him die there. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you didn’t do everything in your power to make that man live.

Was you really going to do this? Risk yourself and your safety for a stranger? An almost dead men in the middle of the road? What if he was bad? Just because he was a Witcher didn’t mean he wasn’t going to hurt you if he recovered. He could be a rapist, murder - not only of monsters - or some kind of freak that liked to torture little girls.

But, again, the Witcher that helped you escape from that place came into your mind. He died trying to get you out of there, he gave his life. He was dead because of you. You had a debt with their kind, and maybe this would be the way of pay that debt.

You were determined. You would bring him to the cabin, but… how? You wouldn’t be able to carry him there. You looked at the carriage, it was your only option. You would have to take him there on horseback. It was not to your satisfaction that you found you would have to use magic again. You would have to put him in the carriage levitating him there.

You frowned disapprovingly, mentally bracing yourself for the next few minutes.

Gods! Why you were doing that, again?

You closed your eyes once more, and the familiar feeling took your entire body, until the pain came one more time. You had to make more effort than before to levitate him. It was painful. You struggled to steady him in the air, and by the time, you managed to place him carefully on the carriage, you were in the edge of unconsciousness.

You fell down your knees, trying to regain control of your body and breathing. You let out a small groan, unable to bear the pain that was settling all over your body.

You stayed there for a long time, when you finally felt yourself again. You forced your aching body to stand up.

You picked up his bag and sword, placing them next to him, and drove the carriage, praying to all god’s that you had made the right choice, and for that man survive one more night.

—–

taglist: @athy-n-lucas @the-winter-witcher @ladyrivia @uncoolcloudyhead @deansbbysblog @whatawildone

#the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher fanfiction #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #dad!geralt

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ourrightside · 4 years

Text

10 Reasons Why Carrie Bradshaw Wasn’t THAT Bad...

Sex and the City is the most elite series I’ve ever watched - and I was so excited to purchase the first season when I turned 18.

I would listen to my mom and my sister gossip about the show when I was younger and feel so left out. But, my mom would refuse to let me watch it until I became an adult. Thank god.

Being an avid fan now, I sometimes scan through Sex and the City articles on the net, and can’t help but notice dozens of articles filled with ‘Carrie’ slander - which kind of makes me nervous.

Although it was true that years ago girls were labeling themselves as the ‘Carrie’, ‘Samantha’ and ‘Charlotte’ of the group - the serious and less glamorous friend got stuck with being a ‘Miranda’; it is kind of an insult now to be deemed as a Carrie.

As we all matured, we realized that being a Miranda is amazing and we should all strive to be just as successful - but Carrie Bradshaw is still a valid character and I’m here to prove why the “sexual anthropologist” is not all that bad.

Now before I dive into why I totally get Carrie Bradshaw, I would just like to point out before hand that I am aware that she is just a fictional character and hopefully you are too. If you are not informed, then I apologize for this harsh revelation. However, let’s continue.

1. She was average looking

While we can all agree that her physique only gets stronger and leaner throughout the series, she was still not exactly perfect looking. Despite her fit body, she was not model like or necessarily tall. She did not have a perfect nose. She did not have the biggest ‘lady parts’. She did not have the plumiest lips. She did not have perfect facial symmetry.

But, she was okay with it. And has mentioned that by the age of 30, she was over being uncomfortable with her looks and decided to move on.

Despite constantly bumping into models and having to accept that men can be total “modelizers” - especially in the capital of the world aka manhattan, she chose to embrace her natural beauty, which in turn has allowed her to walk the runway in her underwear.

2. She was selfish

Yes, the new trend is to be selfish and say no - because that is ‘self love’.

If that truly is the case, then there was no denying then that Carrie was selfish throughout the series.

As human beings, we are selfish by nature. But since we now identify ourselves in societies with expected norms and values, being selfish disqualifies you sometimes from your environment. To avoid being lonely, we try to let go of being selfish or at least hide our selfish traits.

Unfruitfully so, our selfish instincts at times fail us - exposing our true colors. And whenever that happens, people aren’t too afraid of pointing out what you did wrong. It doesn’t make us necessarily evil, just makes us human.

To avoid being Freudian in this post, let’s just sum up that Carrie is harmlessly selfish at times - that includes being late to every event, asking her friend Susan Sharon if she could trade in her cashmere sweater birthday gift for cash, accepting a pair of 600$ shoes from her other super rich friend, and cutting off Charlotte’s possible infertility problem discussion to talk about her Manolos.

The list goes on, I mean - this is just classic Bradshaw behavior. However, this character cannot be deemed as bad. She was just under the spotlight, and if we were under it too, we would find out that we do have these moments as well without realizing it. We are not perfect. However, Carrie does reflect on her mistakes often, which is something we should be doing more.

Sometimes, her selfish tendencies can really get out of hand.

It was not okay when she got angry at Charlotte who did not offer to lend her money after she blew it all off on Manolo Blahnik shoes instead of rent. It was not okay when she threw away Aiden down the drain. It was not okay when she slept with a married man, even if it was ‘Mr. Big’.

We cannot shame her though because we all have hidden skeletons in our closets...it’s up to you however to peak in and see which faults make it or break it for you.

3. She was a working woman

No offense to chastity ball princess Charlotte, who wanted to be a housewife to any rich man who crossed path with her, Carrie Bradshaw was by all means an ‘all star’ business woman. Despite being unconventional unlike Samantha Jones (PR executive) and Miranda Hobbes (Harvard-graduate Lawyer), Carrie Bradshaw was a restless woman that worked in multiple fields all at once despite being so undermined.

She had so many tasks to tackle all at once while juggling multiple projects. She ran around between the fields of Journalism, Content Marketing and Public Relations. She was able to get invited into all the ‘fabulous’ events and meetings because of the hard work she invested in all by herself as a freelancer who lived in a huge place like New York. Carrie finally reached her goal at the age of 40, which was working at Vogue. She even wrote multiple books as well.

4. She was unconventional

Despite the show running in the early 90s, Carrie Bradshaw decided to be a sex columnist. She never gave up on her weird unconventional job and was proud of her career despite the looks or comments people would make. She had a weird exterior in addition to how upfront she was about the physical makings of life.

In addition, Carrie did not believe in marriage until she became a fiancée at the age of 40. She traded in a ring for a pair of shoes and a walk-in closet, unlike most women, who would rather get married in their mid 20 to early 30s with a huge rock on their finger.

5. She was struggling at adulting

Carrie Bradshaw had a deluded concept of adulting that at least most of us had or still struggle with. She was not a healthy adult with financial stability and a well thought out regime. However, she still managed to be fabulous.

She had poor dieting habits, which made her sometimes skip dinner to buy Vogue instead. She believed that shopping and gossiping were the best types of cardio. She was not the cleanest and had a messy apartment at most times. She did not care about the way her living space looked like, which she later on freaked out about in fear of being judged as an imperfect adult according to Mr Big. She paid so much on shoes that she could no longer afford her rent. She believed that investments must be seen in her closet. She drank at least six dollars worth of coffee per day. She would smoke and drink way too much for a thirty year old woman.

6. She was a good friend

Carrie Bradshaw had so many friends that it almost put her PR bestie Samantha to shame. To be honest, Carrie may have not been a perfect friend, but she was as good as it gets realistically.

What made her so realistic in her friendships was her ability to be there for most of her friends’ hardships. She had her ups and downs with her empowered female group because sometimes they would feel like she was too problematic and vice versa. For the most part, it is impossible to be as passionate to your friends as you once were the first time you guys met. But what makes a friend a good one is that they never voluntarily try to find excuses to leave you behind.

Carrie’s love towards her friends in her good and bad times showed that she valued them like family.

7. She was lost

Carrie was probably more lost than she would have liked to be. She had a tendency to dwell on what should have been and could have been. We all have regrets and sometimes she voiced hers out more than other characters within the show. She would sometimes yearn over the years that passed by her. She even went to extremes such as dating a college boy just to remember what it was like to ‘just kiss’. Rookie Mistake, Carrie.

Just like Carrie, as time goes by at any age, we look back at the spur of events that created our timeline and take note sometimes of which events we deem as either life-changing, traumatizing or both.

8. She was experimental

She may not have been as promiscuous as her friend Samantha, but she was unarguably adventurous in all aspects of her life. Although the most obvious aspect may have been her outfits, her wild colors and funny textural accessories were just a preview on how eccentric Carrie Bradshaw truly was. She mentioned that her younger years were a genuine pursuit of fun in every shape or form, which most twenty-something-year-olds cannot deny.

She emphasized that she fears living life as a cautious person because of the hurt she has endured. However, she truly defined throughout the show what it means to be eccentric, empowering the ones who fail the experiments of life to get back on their feet.

9. She was flawed

Carrie Bradshaw believed in the glass half full rather than half empty throughout the series. Despite being unbearably flawed to the point where her friends no longer wanted to listen to her problems, she decided to see a shrink which is something that would have been especially socially-unacceptable in the 90s. Carrie still overcame her mental issues and found other remedies which in turn has led her into accepting the way things played out.

As we grow up, we, like Carrie, need a little bit of help in order to realize that temporary issues will fade away into lessons and the permanent ones that are out of our control can be accessorized into our lives accordingly to the way that we want it to look like.

10. She was in love

Her love towards Mr Big was illogical - almost completely insane. But what made her character so special was the fact that she never continued her relationship with Aiden because she knew deep down that it was Mr Big all along and never gave up on it; despite all the signs that kept telling her that he was bad for her. He was at the time indeed bad news, which made her feelings towards him fluctuate between love and hate.

Now, the psychology behind her and Mr Big does not justify why you should call your ex right now so put your phone down, but it is something to think about.

Carrie took the road not taken for most women, especially during the 90s where gender roles in love where still a bit rigid. While it is true that it is always easier to date lovers who make the effort to chase you rather than pursuing it yourself, the easiness does not create the ‘fairytale love’ that most of us strive for.

Carrie once described her love towards him as a crash rather than a crush. But if something deep down is telling you that someone is your person, shouldn’t that account for something? Shouldn’t we all just go for ‘ ridiculous, inconvenient, time-consuming can’t-live-without-each-other love’, and get it right just like she did?

- Nina xx (yasminasayyid)

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thirtysomethingloser92 · 4 years

Text

Chapter 6

Masterlist/Warnings.

@pansexualwho

imthedoctorlove

ihaveaproblem98

Rewrite the Stars.

The smell of mint flooded your senses as you slowly opened your eyes, your muscles ached in a fresh new way they hadn’t before. You mentally noted the feeling of underwear, but the top half of your body was completely bare. You turned your head, a small smile crossing your face as you saw the familiar brown eyes of your soulmate staring back at you. “You’re so beautiful when you sleep,” He whispered as he brushed some hair from your face, a small smile crossing his face. Self consciously, You moved the blanket further up your body, pausing when his hand touched yours, “Don’t do that,” His eyes searched yiur face, “There’s no need to be self conscious around me. I love you for every bit that you are,”

You moved further into the blankets, a smile on your face as your eyes slowly drifted closed again.

You felt his lips press against your shoulder, sending goosebumps across your body. A small sigh escaped your lips as you felt his lips turn upwards before kissing your shoulder once again. You turned your head to face him, laying stomach down in the bed with a blanket covering your lower body. His fingers glided across your upper back, his fingers moving to slide your top strap down your arm. A shiver ran up your spine as his fingers continued to dance across your shoulders. Your eyes opened to see his chestnut ones staring at you, his mind clearly lost in thought. “What are you thinking about?” You whispered, watching as his eyes changed, finally looking at you. “How incredible you are,” He offered, pressing his lips to your shoulder once again. A small smile graced your face as you closed your eyes once again, “Liar,” You reviled in the feeling of his hands, how something so gentle with you caused the death of millions by them, “You know you can talk to me right?” His hands froze and you wondered if you had said the wrong thing, but they resumed their aimless tracing soon after, “ I’m thousands of years old, I’ve seen so much,” You could feel his breath on your skin, “It feels like you’re the only thing that’s real anymore,” You opened your eyes and looked at him, your hand reaching up to grip his own, “I’m here. Always,” His hand unlocked with yours as he pushed some hair from your face, “I know. And I’m eternally grateful for you,” his hand moves down your face, his thumb coming to rest on your bottom lip, slowly swiping it across. You pressed a kiss to the pad of his thumb and sat up, allowing the blanket to pool around your waist. You could feel the confusion coming through the bond, as you faced him, “I meant it though. I love you,” He sat up, his bare chest exposed for you to see. You had the overwhelming urge to run your hands through his chest hair once again, to wrap your hands behind his neck as he kissed you deeply. “I love you too,”

You head was swirling as you listened to the argument between The Master and The Doctor. You could hear The Master argue with her, telling her that there was no way to activate the detonator from the TARDIS. Their voices sounded like they were underwater, you felt a hand on your upper arm and you looked back at Ryan who was gently holding you back. You shrugged him off as the first tears fell from your eyes. You stepped forward and came to stand in front of The Master, his eyes showing a sadness and a regret that you had never seen before. ”Wh-What are you talking about? There’s no way to detonate this off world? Make it so you can. You’re both smart enough,” You stated, watching as he slowly shook his head in response. ”You don’t think I haven’t tried? You think that this is how I thought I would die?” He rolled his eyes but stared back down at you, “It’s going to be okay. The Doctor said she’s going to take you back to Earth,” You shook your head, “N-no. No! I’m not going back to Earth. We’re going to that stupid planet you keep talking about,” He reached down and gripped your face, forcing you to look at him. Weakly, you finished, “You promised me,” ”I made a bigger promise. To myself. That I would never let you get hurt. And if these creatures leave this ship that’s exactly what would happen,” “Please don’t do this. I’m begging you, please no,” You found yourself sobbing as The Master reached over and caressed your cheek the same way you did to him all those months ago, "We can find another way," You turned back to The Doctor who was looking at you with sad eyes, she shook her head and you tightly closed your eyes, shaking your head, "No. No. I can't lose you. Not after everything,"

A sad smile crossed his face as his brown eyes bored into you, memorizing every inch of your face, every flaw, every perfection; he wanted to remember you. He didn't do this decision lightly, but he knew that if even a tiny bit of that weapon or those creatures got off this world then it would be over for you. He didn't want a life if it meant knowing that you had died from something he could have prevented.

His thumbs rubbed circles on your cheekbones, wiping away your tears “It’s okay,” He whispered to you, “It’s not over for us. I’ll see you again,” His forehead found yours and he closed his eyes, “I’ll see you again and I will love you for all eternity,”

"But I won't see you again," You continued to cry, tears falling harder and harder down your cheeks, his thumbs unable to catch them all, "I can't-" You choked back another sob, "I can't be without you," You saw tears in his own eyes, a smile crossing his face, "Look after that stupid creature won't you?" He whispered to you, "Don't forget, if you end up back on Earth, there might be a few of your neighbors animals going missing," He smiled as you let out a choked laugh, remembering the conversation you both had a few nights earlier regarding your new pet and life on Earth.

"I love you,"

The Master allowed the tears to fall before pressing a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering before he reluctantly detached himself, "I love you. Never forget that," His eyes looked over at The Doctor before giving her a small nod. He pressed his lips against yours before painfully gripping your shoulders and pushing you back into the arms of your friends.

You felt Ryan and Graham's arms holding you back as you struggled against them. The Doctor turned to face you before helping the others get you back inside her TARDIS. The last look you got of The Master was of his sad eyes watching as you kicked and screamed for him to let you stay, for him not to do this.

The TARDIS doors were locked when The Doctor put the machine into flight. You could feel the eyes of the others watching you as you fell to the ground, tears falling uncontrollably down your face, "Please take me back," You whispered brokenly to them.

"I'm sorry I can't. Despite everything, I won't break my last promise to him," The Doctor stated, flicking several buttons on the console.

You felt a sharp pain in your chest, a hollowness that you had only felt once before. You began to cry harder as the pain grew. You knew by the look on The Doctor's face that she knew what was happening, "I'm sorry," She said sadly, knowing that The Master had destroyed the space station with himself inside.

The unbearable pain was the feeling of the bond snapping and breaking. Something that only happened when he died. You had felt it only once before when Missy had died, even then it wasn't the full extent of the pain since then you weren't mourning a close lover, but a friend. Now however, you were mourning the loss of your soulmate.

"Is she going to be okay?" You heard Yaz ask, watching you from afar with worry on her face.

"Not for a long time," The Doctor replied, "Imagine losing Grace. That pain," She turned to Graham, "Now imagine that, but with a physical bond as well. They could feel each other, always," The Doctor looked over at you, "Now she can't. It's going to take a while for that empty feeling to go away,"

You stood up with wobbly legs, walking up to where The Doctor was watching you with sad eyes, "Take me back," You stated sadly, tears falling from your cheeks.

"I can't-" The Doctor began, flinching when you slapped the console of the TARDIS.

"Then what is the bloody point of you then?! What's the point of having a time machine if you can't use it when it actually matters!"

The Doctor stepped forward, placing her hands on either side of your cheeks, her own eyes welling with tears, "You know why. You've always known why. I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry that we can't go back. You know that I would if I could," She pulled your into her chest, allowing you to grip tightly on to the back of her shirt and sob loudly.

"I can't live without him,"

She pulled back from you and gripped either one of your cheeks, "Yes you can. You wont forget him, you wont ever stop loving him, but I promise you that you will be able to live. Do so in his memory. Do it in knowing its what he wanted you to do,"

You fell into the bed, your head resting on the pillow as more tears came down your cheeks. What were you meant to do now? How were you meant to live the rest of your life knowing that once upon a time, you were loved so fully and so wholly that there was a chance you would never feel that again? How could you be happy when he was gone?

You winced slightly when you rolled on to your side, something digging into your pants pockets. You reached in and pulled out the familiar glass ball, the same one you had received in the market months ago. You rolled it around your hand a few times, wondering how to make the memories work, you needed to see his face again. You needed to hear his voice.

When nothing happened, you threw it across the room, more tears falling down your cheeks. You were so hurt and so angry you pulled at your hair slightly, letting out a scream of frustration.

"I don't know when you're going to hear this, or find this. You're asleep at the moment, that stupid creature curled up on your chest. I have no idea why I let you keep it. Maybe it's because it makes you happy. You deserve the type of happiness that you have given me,"

You sat up on the bed, watching the hologram in front of you with watery eyes. There stood The Master, a pair of tan slacks, a light blue shirt, the familiar sparkle in his eyes. He was completely see through however, reminding you that he wasn't really here.

The tears stopped while you watched the smile on his face, your own watery smile growing on your lips as you listened to him speak.

"Either way, if anything happens to you, I'm throwing that thing right out the airlock. No if's and's or but's. So you better stay safe. For his sake," A chuckle left your lips.

"I love you. More then anything in this universe. There's nothing I want more then to spend every morning waking up with you, to listen to your stupid human idiocy's. For all the horrible things I've ever done, the universe gave me one good thing. It's you. I will love you every day, for the rest of my life. I promise you that,"

A small smile on his lips and the picture vanished, leaving you with more tears falling from your cheeks. A small reow came from the bottom of the bed where the glass orb sat. You made your way down and saw the familiar cream colored creature sitting on the floor with confusion, "Jeremy, how'd you get here?" You sobbed, picking up the creature and cuddling him to your chest.

"The Master must have known that he wasn't coming back," You heard from the doorway.

You turned your head to see The Doctor leaning there, watching you with a serious look on her face. You turned back to Jeremy who was now purring in your lap, "How'd you know that?"

"Because he sent you your pet. He recorded you a message and snuck it in your pocket," She moved further into your room, "Because he loved you and he knew that if you were to survive he couldn't,"

The Doctor came to sit on the bed next to you, allowing you to place your head on her shoulder as you silently cried, "I miss him,"

"I know,"

"What will happen to his TARDIS?"

The Doctor shrugged, "I assume it was destroyed when he destroyed the station. If not, it might be floating around space somewhere. No one can get in it so I wouldn't stress to much,"

"He could have regenerated," You offered weakly.

The Doctor stroked your hair, "Do you think so?"

"No," Not after feeling what you felt through the bond. Now it felt like pure emptiness, like everything was pulled out of your body leaving you hallow. You couldn't feel anything other then sadness, a thrumming pain in your chest only amplified the feeling.

"I'll take you back to Earth in a few days. You need some rest,"

You nodded, "Yeah," You said simply, staring at the spot where the hologram once was.

#Dhawan!Master #Dhawan!Master x Reader #sacha dhawan #the master x reader #the master #doctor who #dhawan master #dhawan!master x y/n

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adposto2 · 3 years

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WHERE is Gulberg Greens Islamabad.

Whom to trust whom not to?. Especially when it comes to investments, I think making decisions in this regard are harder than that lifetime effort made to earn that heavy amount. For instance me, who had been saving up for a decade now but took me more than three years to gain confidence enough to buy land. The money lying in the bank was only losing its worth . So, I knew I had to make a decision soon for my future security. Now the question rises whom to trust, rather how to? . Commercial Projects in Gulberg Islamabad

As we all know how fraud is common in this market. I can’t forget the first time I visited a real estate agent, the land that cost 15lac he was selling for 20 lac. And when I made a decision to buy it, it turned out to be a non-progressing land and probably have no worth howsoever. Now I knew this time is the right time to invest especially in the vicinity of Islamabad, my tension turned into frustration as I had never felt so helpless before. I was desperate for help YES… but was there anyone to guide me… unfortunately NO! One day while I was surfing Facebook, I came across Gulberg Islamabad’s post. The image was visually pleasing . Later ,when I dig down more to the content of their posts and website, the features seemed interesting too. Flat for sale in Gulberg islamabad

On top of all that, the name of Gulberg was quite promising itself. It suddenly clicked me to visit that place and visit their sales office rather than random property dealers. I entered Gulberg Greens and I was stunned by its beauty and grand look. I was overwhelmed by the hospitality of the Sales team that involved educated men and women as well. A lady helped me out with all the queries and procedure. For the first time I felt relieved to be in the right place and right away… yes right away I signed a cheque and booked an apartment in Gulberg Heights. The Roman architecture and amazing features and facilities that this place is offering was worth relying. So now I own my property and I surely believe that where there is a will there is a way! Commercial Plots in Gulberg Islamabad

My New Year Resolution

New Year Resolution: Enough of struggles… now it’s time to do more with my life! This is what I said to myself in the beginning of 2019 and changed my perspective about life. Life as we all know tests us in every way but it’s us who decide whether to become a victim of it or have control over it by learning from our mistakes and experiences… We can surely make it better by becoming stronger, by expecting less and giving more, by focusing on our dear ones rather than those who hurt us and most of us by analyzing what we want from life and how to get it! Of course it isn’t as easy as it sounds and not a work of day or two.

With time I realized that though we are always trying to comprehend everything around us, the most difficult thing to understand is what lies within us. Literally sometimes it takes years to figure out something as little as what is best for us and what isn’t. If I sound silly just try convincing yourself to do something against your will… My time for the last 4 years didn’t seem to be in my favor . But I simply accepted my fate till I couldn’t bear more, as not just my personal and professional life but also the lives attached to me were getting unbearably affected. I for once realized the cost of shattering my confidence and blaming myself.

No one was going to offer me solutions… I had to be my own master. I started off by taking care of myself, making my faith in Allah stronger . Also in any type of circumstance I didn’t let anything get me down. All this seemed impossible initially, but today I am where I am because of this. My relationships got better and I showed good progress at work. Along with work I started a new online business of mobile accessories in collaboration with my cosine. In just one year I have earned enough to make an investment. For 2020 I can proudly say that this year I will start a new better life at my favorite place in Islamabad, The Gulberg Islamabad.

I have already booked a plots in Gulberg Residencia and now I can’t wait to see my home being built where I will have everything I wish for, a place rather than a house will be my home. I will finally be able to make my family happy with this beautiful gift. As no doubt there is no place like Gulberg Islamabad.

Everyone wants to eat fresh fruits and vegetables. Don’t you???

In the serene and green Gulberg Residencia, is my beautiful home which means the world to me. And in that 7 marla home is my small lawn which is undoubtedly my favorite spot, my peace place. I can spend hours in my garden without getting bored since it makes me come alive from inside and I just love that feeling.

My mother, my favorite person is another person who loves this spot equally. Gardening is her hobby and more than me she the one who takes good care of this garden. My garden may be tiny, but its is filled with numerous colors of nature. Here you will see a huge and unique variety of flowers, fruits and vegetables. Roses are my all time fave. In addition to which we keep growing seasonal flowers and vegetables in the garden . Plots in Gulberg Green Islamabad.

The feeling is indescribable when you see the buds blooming, vegetable growing and new leaves sprouting… its like a new beginning of joy, hope and success. Plants are not just growing stem, they have a life. I often talk to them, while I water them, i pour my love and and when i hoe the soil, i know this care I put in them will in return bring more freshness to my life. Usually my day starts in my garden. It is a positive way to begin a day with the peace of mind. I practice deep breathing for around 20 minutes and then look at all the plants that I have.

I love spending the evening hours in my garden if I have time. Best are the days when my friends come over for evening tea. We chat and enjoy the beauty that surrounds us. My pretty little garden is surely an integral part of my life. This place vanishes all the negativeness and makes me happy in seconds.

THE BIG REAL ESTATE QUESTION

Isn’t it hell of a confusion to decide which society is the best! These days too many new residence societies are emerging and everyone claims to be the best.

Other than few famous names such as Bahria Town and GULBERG, we can’t really rely on anyone… can we? So many fraud examples are there to scare us from making an investment. Also when it comes to business, we are either putting all our money in the drain or luck has knocked our door.

I wonder how many people get looted just because they trust the decent looking humans who convince them with their words. With the out of the world promises imagine how lifetime savings are blown away with just a signature. Though we can’t blindly trust any agent few things must be considered before making any decision.

They have been working in Real Estate for a quite a long time.

Check out the successful transactions and the feedbacks of their previous clients.

Their contact details, be it online or offline should always be available and so should be the responsive rate.

They should definitely be affiliated with a registered office or should be registered by themselves.

They should have in-depth information of the real estate industry.

Must supply your real estate needs as their utmost priority.

They should guide properly for your transaction

My Encounter with a Real Estate Agent

Today, thanks to the education and awareness, women believe there is nothing on earth they can’t do, well… try dealing with an ignorant person without him staring at you top to bottom, as if you are sitting naked just for his entertainment.

Seems relatable doesn’t it? That’s not it, my encounter with the goof I’m referring to kept getting more and more interesting. He was none other but a real estate agent. My colleague told me about good investment opportunities at societies near new airport so I took some time off to visit a real estate office for a better understanding.

I entered a small office with few people all in white kameez shalwar, which till this day I don’t get why they only where white… is it their dress code? Or do they try to portray decency through their look. Well if so it didn’t really work on me. Instead of gaining interest all I wanted was to get away from the creepy looks. I asked him straight about the rates and the best offers they had within the budget I had. And after this long question he asked … “Madam Ji, what would you like to have chai or thunda (cold drink)” ? Confused I simply said, “NO, I don’t have time, please come straight to the point”… “Madam, how can we let our guest go unserved? Please feel comfortable.

So I ended up with a glass of juice which turned out to be much needed to clear my throat. Every time I asked a questioned, his eyes became wider and he bent towards me more… I thought he was going to sit on the table on some point. Well long story short, I changed my mind, received a fake call and escaped. It was till few months back when I went to the sales office of Gulberg Islamabad where I realized that decent dealing is possible in this profession.

I went with my colleague expecting disaster but she came out satisfied with all her quires answered. Now I too have made up my mind to invest only in Gulberg Green Islamabad because it’s not just serene and green, it has the best offers according to your requirements.

Life at Gulberg Residencia

Indeed, it was one of the best decisions of my life… we can’t regret the fact that our environment has a great influence on us. In other words, if we can’t adjust in our surrounding, nothing else can make us happy, neither money nor luxury. On the other hand, peace of mind in this fast moving era is not that easy to find. Cities are getting more and more crowded and so when I was capable of making an investment, all I could think was… PEACE! My residence was living in central area of Rawalpindi.

The daily traffic block added extra half an hour to my office distance which was only 10 km away. And not just travelling, I was sick of the noises, pollution and altogether, I was unhappy with my lifestyle… even going for outing was not a fun thing for me. I know many people are happy the way they are but not me and I couldn’t help it. I had imagined a better life for my wife and my two kids who meant the world to me.

One day I crossed a newly emerging society, the Gulberg Islamabad and I felt the urge to visit it. Though the elegant entrance with wide roads and amazing farmhouses, I thought this place is only for the elite class. Out of curiosity I asked a shopkeeper who showed me the way to the Gulberg Customer Dealing office. Again I was impressed but hopeless for I knew my savings were not enough.

Gathering up my confidence, I told the Sales Executive guy Mr. Mohsin about my total saving. Of course his response surprised me with a proposal not just for a living opportunity, but it offered an exceptional lifestyle, beyond my expectations at Gulberg Green Residencia. Though I could only afford a 5 marla plot, it was more than enough for me and my family. I thought it was the best gift I could give to my family and so it was.

When I brought my wife my kids and my parents to show them my plot, my wife was in tears of happiness and my mother couldn’t be more proud of me. I can’t wait for the time when I will move in to spend my dream life with my family. At Gulberg Islamabad, live your DREAM with SERENE AND GREEN LIFESTYLE!

#gulberg #gulberg greens #gulberg Islamabad #islamabad gulberg #gulberg residencia #plots in gulberg greens islamabad

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rebelwith0utacause · 4 years

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Daydreaming, vol.1, part 2

Hello (to whoever’s reading this, I <3 you, thank you), it is me again. I decided to add a couple more chapters to the blurb I wrote yesterday, so if you liked it, have at it! (I’ll just tag whoever reblogged the first one at the end)

You can find part one here, and hopefully part three here sometime tomorrow. I hope you like it, feedback is very much appreciated!

Your mind was blank, lips moving on autopilot, vocal cords tensing with familiar precision. At this point, you could be woken up in the middle of the night from the deepest of slumbers and still be able to sing the songs straight away. It sometimes felt like you were sleeping, too. Like your twenty-three-year-old mind was exhausted from existing and it took every opportunity it got to just recuperate.

To the outside world, you looked like a spaced-out wannabe musician who won’t ever make it out of this town. The few looks you managed to catch were somewhere between pitying your lack of luck and accusing you for getting high before a gig. Little did they know you’ve never really smoked pot or had the inclination to do so, your facial muscles were just a bit lax and you really didn’t care anymore.

You knew that you were never going to make it, not in this town at least. With a population of less than 5000, 3 bars and a single tourist attraction where your busking could actually earn you money, this little godforsaken place was perfect for killing all of your ambition.

But you were okay with it. Fortunately for you, music always came second. You had a gift, even though it felt weird and self-centered to admit it, but it didn’t fulfill you as much as everyone else thought it did. The only reason you actually took the stage with your well-loved acoustic guitar was because you always thought that it would be such a waste of extra cash if you didn’t. It helped you pay the bills and left you with a bit of extra to save up for your education.

You had grand plans of delving into digital marketing. The whole aspect of predicting what someone else behind a screen on the other side of the world would like and actually guiding them through the whole shopping process made you feel like you were on top of the world. This was the reason why this little town and this half-empty excuse of a bar didn’t bother you in the slightest. That, and your lovely mother.

She was your entire world. How could she not be when in your eyes, she sacrificed her entire happiness to raise you to become a half-decent human being? She was the only parental figure around, and she did her best. You knew from Biology 101 that somewhere in this world, another parental figure should’ve walked, but she never told you anything about him, and you never asked. After all, she was doing such a good job. And that’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the past 5 years.

It was slowly eating you away not knowing who your dad was. Your favorite pastime was looking at strangers on the streets and trying to figure out if they could be your father. You would make up all of these potential scenarios in your head, but never dare voice them out. This practice was probably the reason why you were so good at creating buyer personas, at least something good came out of your sorry state.

It didn’t help that on your 18th birthday, your mom let it slip that you were just like him. The bubbly champagne had gotten to her head and loosened up her tongue. “I still can’t get over the fact that you look like a carbon copy of him.” she had said. “Same eyes, same nose, same curls. Even the voice.”

That information was enough to get the long-rusted cogs in your brain to start working. You weren’t sure how much of it was a memory and how much a figment of your imagination, but these images started popping in your head of seeing a person standing on a stage, the lights behind them obscuring their face. It vaguely reminded you of a concert venue, but you couldn’t be sure. At times you wondered if your unbearable desire to find out who this person was was interfering with the memory.

By day it made you daydream dreams of what could have been a reality. At night it made you question your whole existence, who you were, why you ended up in this place, and more importantly if this was what you were meant to become. Unfortunately, your mom wasn’t exactly forthcoming with potential clues, you just finally realized the reason behind her dreamy looks and teary eyes.

The night was coming to a close, your hand strumming the last chords of the final song. “Thank you for having me here tonight. My name is Matt, for those of you who don’t know me, and I’ll be seeing you next Thursday, same place, same time. Have a good night!”

It was a practiced speech, courtesy of playing in the same bar every week and you were struggling hard not to deliver it in a monotone. It’s not like they would notice since they’ve already heard it a hundred times.

“You could’ve added a bit of emotion at the end, you know that, right?”

It was the last thing you expected to hear. You never really saw a new face in the crowd, so it came as a surprise. But it wasn’t what made you almost lose your footing when you turned towards the newcomer. Your breath caught midway on an inhale as you took in the spitting image of you.

“Excuse me, do I know you?” you managed to ask while taking in his appearance. His face was less smooth than yours and his short-trimmed beard hid a few gray hairs. If your assumptions were correct, his skin looked a bit hardened because he had 23 years’ advantage on you in battling the elements.

“I don’t know, Matt, do you?”

@oh-so-dysfunctionall @ilumxna @euphorialuke @talkfastromance4

#luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings #luke 5sos #imagines #5sos imagine #5sos #fanfics #i still don't know what i'm doing #i'm getting hemmotional #again #hemmo #hemmotional #writing #fiction #this is weird #ktnxbye

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captainsassmanes · 5 years

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Follow up to Opinion

California, it turns out, is fucking beautiful.

Expensive, but beautiful.

He’d made something of a routine for himself the last few weeks he’d been on the coast. He’d quickly found a room to sublet with some roommates who were young but nice enough and an IT job that required almost no effort at all. The mornings consisted of him waking up early and doing a quick workout. It seemed like everyone in Cali was walking around like they just fell off a catwalk. Then he’d eat something and head out to the beach, a mere three blocks down.

People watching had become a type of therapy for him, imagining the lives of other people. When he was feeling good and generous, he’d grant success and happiness on people he could tell were struggling. When he was lonely and bitter, he’d diagnose them with food poisoning and syphilis, then take it back because he felt badly.

After some loitering in the sand, he’d head to work, put in his eight hours, and head home. A lot of nights, he’d go out with his roommates or a few co-workers, maybe a few friends he’d made at the local bars. Alex discovered, after being forced against his will, that he was good at trivia and karaoke could be fun.

He’d built a new life for himself, in just a few weeks. It gave him the optimism that he could do so much more with a few months, then a few years.

He was sitting on the beach in his usual spot Tuesday morning. It was just after 7am, a bit chilly and the sun making a late start. He’d been trying to get more comfortable in his own skin out here. He knew he had to let the jeans and sweats go, the weather too warm to keep himself overly covered, but it had been hard. He’d never been ashamed of his leg but people tended to see it and use it as an open invitation to ask some really personal questions.

But, again, California was different. He answered some questions the first time he wore shorts, but people nodded, thanked him and moved on. People didn’t stare at him and everyone was shockingly respectful of his space.

He was proud to be able to do something as simple as sit on the beach while other people jogged by with his prosthetic on display. He was jarred from his thoughts by a loud voice on an otherwise peaceful beach.

A man was talking into his tiny little headphones in full volume while walking down toward the water. He decided the perfect spot for his morning constitutional was directly in Alex’s eye line. The man, good looking by all accounts, began doing some basic yoga moves while yelling about profit margins and money markets or something.

Alex rolled his eyes. For every laid back, enjoying the life, crunchy Californian he met, there were at least two of these Silicon Valley, wannabe chill businessmen.

“You could do worse.”

Alex’s head snapped to the side and he found a smirking Kyle taking a seat next to him.

“Ooo, sand’s warm.” Kyle wiggled his toes and Alex sat frozen and gaping.

“What the hell are you doing here? How did you find me?” Alex looked around as he spoke, wondering if Kyle had come all this way on his own. He silently cursed to himself as his chest blossomed a warm sensation of hope.

“It was not easy, my friend. When you decide to vanish, you really fucking vanish.”

Kyle leaned back on his hands and raised his chin to the sky, the sun climbing just a bit higher. Kyle looked like this was exactly where he belonged.

��You done kumbaya-ing yet?”

Alex shook his head and moved to stand up, trying to be as graceful as possible with one leg and sand. “Fuck off, Kyle.”

“Hey!” Kyle stood and turned Alex around. “I’m serious, man. We’ve all been freaking out since you left. We demolished the cabin, went through all your research, we called and called and called.” Kyle lowered his voice. “We started thinking you were abducted for Christ’s sake! Either by your psycho family or alien number who the hell knows!”

Alex ran a hand through his hair and looked back on the ocean. It had taken a few days before the texts and phone calls began. Kyle, of course was first. Then Liz, then Isobel. Eventually Maria had called and even Guerin had sent a text. That one just read, Maria’s worried about you. That had been enough for him to throw his phone out and get a new number.

“I just,” Alex sighed, unsure how to word anything at this point. “I needed a fresh start. Desperately. I felt like I was losing touch there. You know?”

Kyle nodded, staring out at the ocean, too. They stood together in comfortable silence, listening to the water and the birds and the people. Life moving forward.

“I”m sorry.” Alex turned with surprise. “I wasn’t a very good friend. None of us were.”

Alex shook his head but Kyle gave him a gentle shove with his shoulder and continued. “Shut up, I’m serious. I’m not gonna apologize for being with Rosa. She’s my sister and an actual zombie; she needed me and I was glad to be there with her. But I didn’t check in. I stopped helping and I know you well enough now. I knew you’d keep going, making yourself insane with work. I knew it but I didn’t take the time to check in. I’m sorry.”

Alex nodded, not trusting his voice to speak just yet. He watched as a little boy ran by, struggling to run in the sand, his father chasing behind him. Both smiling and laughing.

Alex couldn’t help but smile. “I couldn’t stay, Kyle. I broke under the pressure of everything and I finally realized how unhappy I was. And lonely. I figured, I might as well be lonely on a beach.”

Both men laughed, some of the tension floating away. “We all miss you. Some more than others.”

Alex gave a small smile. “You missed me, Valenti?”

Kyle laughed and nodded, eyebrows raised. “I did, Manes. I did indeed. But we both know I’m not who I was talking about.”

Alex’s stomach flipped and he bit his lip. His hip was starting to ache, standing on uneven ground for too long, so he headed over to a bench, certain Kyle would follow. They sat quietly for a minute while Alex gathered his thoughts.

“I love both of them, you know. In different ways, obviously, but I love them both.” He cleared his throat, a lump forming against his will. “I wanted to support them and, if I couldn’t do that, I at least didn’t wanna fuck it up for them. So I tried to smile when I saw them and ask about the other one if I bumped into them somewhere. Mostly, I just tried to stay out of the way.”

He pulled at the skin around his thumb until a bit of blood rose to the surface. “There was a day, I was standing outside of the museum, just staring at it. I don’t think I ever told you but the museum was really important to me. Guerin and I-” he cleared his throat again and looked out at the ocean, steadying his breathing with the waves. “Anyway, Maria knew about it and, well, Guerin, was there. But I was standing there, reminiscing I guess, and they walked out of there together.”

Alex turned his head away and tried as subtly as possible to wipe away the tear that fell. “They looked so happy, Kyle. Smiling and laughing, holding onto each other. I had this thought that maybe I had been in their way, you know? That maybe if I wasn’t there they would have gotten their happy ending sooner.”

Kyle turned toward Alex, shaking his head but Alex couldn’t stop himself now. “I still fucking hated them though.”

He could feel Kyle’s eyes on him, see the shape of his jaw hanging open slightly, but Alex didn’t care. This felt good. “It felt deliberate. Let’s go to the place that means the fucking world to Alex and ruin it.” He sniffed and wiped his nose knowing damn well he couldn’t hide the tears this time.

“I got so drunk that night, I must have passed out at least three separate times. Then I bump into Guerin of all people while I’m barely able to stand and, that was it. I knew I had to go.”

The silence took over again. The beach had started getting a bit busier. A few families, a couple sunbathers, a group that looked like they were getting ready for some volleyball. Always life moving forward.

“I can’t be happy watching him be happy with someone else. I tried, so hard, I really did. But I can’t do it. And knowing it’s Maria? Seeing my best friend with the only man I’ve ever loved? It’s unbearable.” He sniffed again and took a deep breath. “I didn’t even mention all the alien business and my absolutely spectacular family legacy.”

After a few minutes Kyle stood up with a groan and stretched with a big yawn. He put his hands on his hips and looked up and down the beach. “I’m starving. Take me to breakfast.”

Alex’s face was a picture. “What? No. You gotta go back to Roswell and I have to get to work.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me. First of all, I don’t gotta go anywhere. Second, call out. I’m withering away here. If I don’t get some avocado toast or whatever these hippies eat soon I’m gonna pass out.”

“You’re like a leech, you know?” He took out his phone and sent a text off to his boss feigning a stomach bug. “I can’t get rid of you.”

Kyle threw his arm around Alex and kissed the side of his head. “I’ve missed you too, brother. Now, point me towards the toast!”

#roswell new mexico #opinion part two #alex manes #kyle valenti #brotp kylex #unedited

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