#I AM enamored with the married couple vibes

[tanoraqui]

I COMPLETELY FORGOT A VERY IMPORTANT PART OF CROWNLESS (the Young Aragorn show that lives in my, and apparently many of your, hearts): Each season opens with the framing device of middle-aged Sam Gamgee sitting by the fire in Bag End, telling his kids stories about the King. If you don’t have a (historical inaccuracy-excusing) narrative frame in a Middle Earth story, wtf are you even doing?

Also, the theme song in my mind is "All That Is Gold Does Not Glitter" by Clamavi de Profundis, but I'm open to some other group doing their own arrangement of the poem.

so, key elements of season 3 (s1 and 2 here):

A couple times in s2, including notably in the season finale?, Rohirrim were involved…so at the very end of that season, King Thengel invited Aragorn to come serve in his court/armed forces. That’s right, it’s time for UNMITIGATED HORSE GIRL!ARAGORN HOURS!

(confession: I could be persuaded to combine s2 and s3, with some elements of s3 going into s4)

(and clarification: Aragorn isn't deliberately using a false name, but he's also not presenting himself as anything more than a random northern Dúnedain ranger, son of nobody in particular.)

The show starts to shift in this season: in addition to/in place of some monster of the week episodes, we get political drama of the week, and more ongoing plotlines. Also, I realized it’s as much ‘location of the week’ as ‘monster of the week’—that continues, centered around Rohan (which means we’ll retread some locations from s2)

First trip to Minas Tirith, on some diplomatic excursion!

fun canon LotR info: Thengel, Theoden's father, was a total Gondor stan - he lived there from his teens until he had to come home to take up the crown, he married a woman from Lossarnach, as King of Rohan he spoke Sindarin and Westernesse and not Rohirric...

so I'm gonna say that teenage Theoden is kind of resentful of that? He was born in Lossarnach, came to Rohan at age 5...but Rohan is his home and he loves it, and he wonders if his father is too enamored of Gondor to be the best king of Rohan. He's skeptical of Thengel recruiting this random Ranger to be a captain of the Riders. On the flip side, Aragorn is SO COOL, and superb with horses. and Theoden wants to be him when he grows up. It's hard, being a teenager and a prince, with 4 sisters. It's hard and nobody understands

Sauruman is there for an episode, being genuinely helpful but his vibes are faintly rancid. He's about to start building up Isengard as an armed power. If the season finale involves something like a proper battle again, he might pitch in.

Halbarad and Dúnawen might actually stay in Ithilien? Or they come along to Rohan but they just join the Riders without getting involved in court stuff at all. Aragorn is going to start doing more things on his own. They presumably have their own B/C-plot character arcs btw, I just don't know what

Roddis definitely stayed behind in Ithilien/Gondor. New in the cast, however, not from quite the start but maybe like ep7/22, or the midseason onward? Is a perfectly normal human woman with dark hair and grey eyes...

Arwen. It's Arwen.

Aragorn: Why are you here? Arwen: I am the daughter of Elrond Half-Elven. My grandparents include the Evening Star, White-Winged Elwing, and Galadriel, student of Melian who on separate occasions told both Fëanor and Eonwë to fuck off. Everyone who met her agrees that I look just like my great-great-grandmother Lúthien Tinúviel. The distant echo of the Doom of the Exiles runs in my veins, as do the Songs of Lúthien and the Light of a Silmaril. I know the weight of Fate when it settles on my shoulders like a mantle, as it did when you called me 'Tinúviel' beneath Imladris's twilit trees—but the Choice of the Peredhel remains mine and mine alone. So I have come, Elessar, Isildur's heir, to see if I actually like you. Arwen: Curiosity. Aragorn: [vividly remembering how in s1 his mom said, "She's way out of your league" and Elrond said, "You won't get married until you're king." (Aragorn: "...married to your daughter?" Elrond: "To anyone. Period.")] Aragorn: Cool. Curiosity is cool. I'm gonna be so normal about this.

(Spoilers: he was not entirely normal about this.)

(Spoilers: they super do like each other, though)

Idk what the backup rangers are doing overall, but I do want Aragorn and Dúnawen to still have some sort of romantic Thing in s2, maybe off and on again, as Aragorn thought Arwen wasn't interested and was trying not to just be moping about it... Then Arwen arrives and Aragorn is So Conflicted for like 1 episode, before Dúnawen comes to him like, "Aragorn, I love you as a friend and comrade-in-arms and I love you as my chieftain and king-to-be, and I could probably love you as a wife if we really tried...but you clearly have not just a crush but some sort of Destiny thing with Lady Arwen, so I'm going to go back to Ithilien for a bit, maybe get drunk and laid with a handsome barmaid, and get over you. While I'm gone, you should try, like, talking to her."

A thing that Aragorn and Arwen...do bond over, but more it's there to demonstrate their compatibility to the audience, is: ...So, we (the writers/producers) don't have the rights to The Silmarillion, right, just The Lord of the Rings and its Appendices, and The Hobbit. These do periodically namedrop people, however, with dashes of elaboration mostly in the Appendices...and Aragorn is established from the start to be a bit of a history nerd, because that's what happens when you're raised by Elrond...so periodically, Aragorn and his friends will be in a Situation and Aragorn will whisper, like, "This is just like when [Fëanor/Túrin/Tar-Minastir/etc...]—" and Halbarad or Dúnawen hisses, "Does that actually help us right now?" and Aragorn will say, "Sure!" and start doing something that Silmarillion nerds can recognize is inspired by whatever the person in question did in a similar situation (note: sometimes Aragorn deliberately does the opposite of what the historical figure did, and it works much better.) The writers very carefully do not explicitly reference anything not explicitly in the permitted texts. If they need/get to elaborate on a historical figure, they'll toe a careful line of Silmarillion canon and blatantly made-up things.

That happened more in s1, when the show needed to make good with the old fans, but also in s2. Aragorn remains the only one referencing this stuff. Then in s3, he and Arwen are...let's say captured by bandits, and Arwen murmurs in his ear, "I have an idea. You know in the Lay of Lúthien..." Aragorn's eyes widen. "Beren and Lúthien or Beren and Finrod?" Arwen: "Finrod." Aragorn nods, and they proceed to bullshit their way out of being captive with flawless teamwork and yes-and-ing (and maybe fight a wolf on their way out, just to be thorough).

No idea what this season finale is. Like I said, you could probably weave parts of most of this season into s2 and s4? But that would ruin the "a different significant geographical area every season" thing we've got going on.

[s4 here!]

#aragorn #arwen #theoden #lotr #lord of the rings #ficlet #fanfiction #my fic

[nite-puff]

Tonight’s one of those nights where i can’t fall asleep unless I jot something down.

So here’s my long list of Takemichi Yukimaru headcanons! Because he’s nothing if not free real-estate for them.

This will mostly be backstory with some smaller, more light-hearted, headcanons interspersed throughout. Enjoy!

(cw for mentions of abuse. he’s still a danganronpa character) (this is also my longest post. by a long shot. i just have a lot of thoughts on him)

- my intense desire to make my favorite characters latino in some capacity out of self-projection is very real. so in my mind, michi’s half-japanese, half-latino (whichever region is up to you. he doesn’t really know himself, but i will always be compelled to say mexican because i am biased). (edit: also because “michi” is a term of endearment for cats in some latin american countries. so that makes the nickname itself a little cuter. he’s like a little cat guy compared to the owadas, who are strongly associated with tigers.)

- his father was born and raised in japan and his mother moved from overseas to japan out of desire to travel during a gap-year from college. the two met during her stay and had a very explosive and passionate start to their relationship. like a long honeymoon phase. his mother actually decided to stay longer than her intended visit after she found out she was pregnant with michi, and the two were soon married. the rose-tinted glasses were still in full effect at this point in their relationship.

- michi’s hair color is naturally dark brown, like his mom. he actually inherited a lot of his mom’s physical features, including her short stature. what he got from his dad were a couple a facial features, but most notably his yellow eye color.

- also transmasc michi is so real. he doesn’t realize it until a little later in his life. a little while after meeting mondo.

- while things started out fine after michi was born, things were bound to turn sour. the honeymoon phase ended. the added expenses of a new baby along with the already poor state the family was living in raised a lot of tension in the household, and his father quickly became abusive toward his mother. michi didn’t remember much, either because he was very young when it all happened or because his brain did a good job at repressing some of the memories, but what he does remember is particularly bad.

- The only good memories he has of his childhood are with his mother. like her reading him stories or teaching him some simple words in spanish. and her favorite songs, which she would play to him a lot. the reason why he doesn’t have many memories of her is because she left when he was five. neither him or his father know her whereabouts, but michi likes to believe she’s back overseas with her family. she left behind her old cassette collection, something that was largely untouched until michi got a little older.

- michi actually really liked school. he’s described as being a smart kid, so i like to think that he did well in his classes. while he still did well as grew older, his studies took a major backseat after he met the owadas.

- he met mondo first. they went to the same grade school together and mondo was a grade higher than michi. i think that their initial meeting went something along the lines of michi witnessing mondo deck a kid who was picking on a girl classmate of his. michi is immediately enamored by this boy who wasn’t afraid to fight against bullies like that. he is less enamored by the fact that mondo immediately scared the poor girl away as well after trying to talk to her. he was an interesting character, and michi really wanted to be his friend. they proceed to do that little kid thing where they hang out for like 15 minutes, like each other’s vibe, and then say something like “we’re best friends now.” and the rest is history.

- to harken back to trans michi. mondo is taken aback by this supposed girl who wasn’t scared of him and wanted to actually be friends with him. his small naive kid-brain at first thought this could be his shot at a relationship, but 15 minutes into knowing michi and mondo abandoned the idea because michi was perfect best friend material. and because he kinda got scared at how much this kid wanted mondo to teach him how to sucker punch someone.

- mondo and michi’s friendship took off like it was nobody’s business. They were hanging out anytime they could see each other on campus and quickly got to learning about each other. mondo talked a lot about daiya and how cool he was. he mentioned how his older recently got into motorcycles and even got one from one of his friends, and how michi should come over to his house one day to check it out. michi shared a lot of his favorite music with mondo, which mainly consisted of that old cassette collection mentioned previously.

- michi doesn’t actually meet daiya until a year or two into him and mondo knowing each other. he randomly picks mondo up from school on his motorcycle. the gang had already started then, so he had his hair and makeup done and was wearing his gang jacket. michi would probably still say that it was the coolest thing he’s ever seen. mondo asks if michi wants to go with them, and it’s the first time michi doesn’t immediately go home after school. he’s in his last year of grade school at this point.

- another year goes by and michi grows closer with the brothers, basically becoming the honorary third owada brother. he gets to learn a lot about the gang, motorcycles, fighting, etc. he even starts learning how to ride his own motorcycle after daiya mentions that he may or may not be fixing one up for him. he still hasn’t joined the gang at this point because daiya won’t let him. he’s too young and has to be at least the age that mondo was when he joined. which meant michi had to wait until his next birthday.

- while all of this is happening, tensions are brewing back at his home again. michi was a able to avoid his father’s abusive tendencies for the most part because he’s at work when michi is home from school/hanging out with the owadas. but he later had a change in work schedule and soon found out about what michi had been out doing using context clues. the diamonds have also gotten some traction, so the larger population of their hometown are starting to know about the new gang, including michi’s dad. michi elects to ignore this and just doesn’t acknowledge his father when he sees him, but things all come to a head one day and the two of them fight. not physically, verbally. it’s very ugly and it ends more or less with his father telling michi that he can go join the gang if he wants, but he’ll never be allowed to live in his house again if he does. michi storms out and goes to his room, and it’s the last interaction the two of them have. michi is gone with his belongings the next morning.

- he is welcomed into the owada’s home with open arms, joking about how he practically lived there already. though he does sleep on the couch because the small apartment the brothers rent out only has two bedrooms. he doesn’t mind this.

- michi officially joins the gang on the day of his birthday because he is so excited to do so and can’t wait another day. he is also given the motorcycle daiya mentioned as a present.

- he gets the makeover! complete with bleaching his hair, doing the makeup, getting a couple piercings! and getting his new gang jacket courtesy of mondo.

- michi was picked on by some of the gang at first, mostly because of his height and softer features. not much happened outside of that because it was established upfront that michi was close to the brothers, but most importantly, close to daiya. he also shut the naysayers right up after his first gang fight with them. he displays some unnaturally good skills at fighting other guys twice his size.

- michi grows to be a great fighter, even surpassing the owada’s in that regard. he’s the leader of the elite guard and Mondo’s bodyguard for a reason. mondo taught him the basics when they were younger, daiya taught him some of the more higher-level stuff as he grew older, and michi perfected his technique with the sheer amount of practice he did. it was a lot. all so that people wouldn’t pick on him or abuse him anymore.

now for some random, not that important headcanons as a break from all the story:

- michi is allergic to dogs. that made living with chuck very awkward when the little guy was still around. he’s perfectly fine around cats though

- his fan club is very quick to form. it started out on school grounds with some girls who found him cute following him around. news gets out that he joined the crazy diamonds and he gets more attention the higher he climbs up in the ranks. daiya jokes that michi is the most popular crazy diamond member, second only to himself. he teases mondo with the notion as well. michi avoids all interactions with his fan club and is greatly embarrassed by it. to the point that he gives them dirty looks if he sees members following him.

- i cannot for the life of me decide if i want michi to be homoromantic asexual or aroace. so i just combined the two. he’s asexual and arospec and if he were to pursue a romantic relationship, it would be with a guy. he’s thought about this more than he’d like to admit.

- mondo being genuinely curious as to why michi hates his fan club so much leads to michi clumsily coming out to both of the brothers and admitting that he doesn’t really like girls like that (also that he just finds the fan club annoying). they ask how he feels about guys, and he genuinely can’t give them an answer because he doesn’t know how he feels about guys. daiya tells him not to lose so much sleep trying to figure it out. he’ll know when he knows.

- michi sometimes likes to collect more cassette tapes for his collection. he can’t waste too much money on them but he’ll sometimes buy a couple if he thinks it’s music his mom would’ve liked.

- michi never forgot those small bits of spanish his mom taught him. his pronunciation is shoddy and he’s not by any means fluent, but he knows what they mean.

- when daiya and mondo are talking about the switch in leadership, michi is the first to come to mind for mondo’s right-hand man. it’s a no-brainer there.

- he’s been to juvie the same amount of times mondo has. the two are just always together when they’re caught.

- he continues to be more intelligent than what he lets on. this mostly shows through his more level-headed personality because he doesn’t fall for the things that are clearly meant to get a rise out of him. mondo does though, so it’s good that he can be the reasonable one to drag him out of a situation like that.

back to the story:

- on the night of the race, michi can’t stop himself from following after the brothers some time after their race started. he’s always had a strong need to protect people, and he’s scared of what mondo could do while that angry and recklessly driving his motorcycle. he doesn’t see the accident happen, but he’s the first to show up to the scene after it occurs. he’s the first person mondo tells his lie to.

- the weeks after daiya’s death are rough. michi isn’t as bad as mondo was, but he’s still grieving. he doesn’t expect mondo to be back on schedule as quick as he is and even encourages him to take a longer break. he’s ignored.

- michi is uncomfortable having to be back to the gang so soon, but he has to because he now basically has the highest non-leader power. at this point, he is immensely respected by the rest of the gang, and new members who try to make fun of him are shut up by the older members.

- mondo at first doesn’t plan on going to hope’s peak when he is given the invite and even starts writing the letter telling them such. michi convinces him to go, telling him it would be stupid to give up an opportunity like that. that serves as excellent angst material after michi learns about the killing game and mondo’s death.

- michi is left in charge of the gang when mondo is gone and can be considered the third leader of the crazy diamonds, even if it’s not official.

- kinda random, but michi is jealous of mondo and taka’s friendship at first. like, who’s this other guy claiming to be mondo’s best bro??? this hall monitor, straight-laced, son of a cop no less. that period of time doesn’t last very long because michi is quick to figure out mondo’s more than friendly feelings toward taka. before either of them do. jealousy becomes pity with a side of secondhand embarrassment from watching mondo deny his feelings for taka then witnessing his terrible attempts at “flirting” when he does realize said feelings.

- then he’s kidnapped, demon game, library, gontakerus, yada yada yada. we know this.

- there’s something so cool about thinking of michi as “the last crazy diamond.” idk maybe the title is just cool. but he still holds hope that some of the other members are alive and out there somewhere. he makes it his mission to find them and restore the gang. he kind of blames himself for not being there to protect them when the tragedy does happen. he doesn’t think about how he really had no choice in the matter.

- also michi, takaaki, and hiroko found family dynamic is so real. let that boy have a loving mother and father figure in his life. he needs it.

- he never really gives up his goal to find some crazy diamond members, though it becomes less about restoring the gang and more about wanting to see his old friends again. but that mission is put in the backseat after he’s found by the future foundation.

um that’s mostly it, but here’s a non-despair universe thing:

- the tragedy never happens, and mondo hands the gang down to michi after he graduates from hope’s peak. michi is an awesome leader and hands the gang down to his successor because he wants to try his hand out at getting a higher education. what he wants to be, he has no idea (because i have no idea).

- also michi is mondo’s best man at the ishimondo wedding. because why wouldn’t he be?

AND THATS IT!!! I PROBABLY FORGOT SOME STUFF BUT GOD I AM SO TIRED ITS 4 AM

i love michi, i wish he was real.

#hi takemichi enjoyers! #my dumbass was sensible enough to not post this until after i got some sleep #but here’s 12 pm isa telling you that 4 am isa was out of her mind #but michi my beloved i wish there was more depth to you than just a flat sheet of paper. literally #danganronpa #danganronpa ultra despair girls #takemichi yukimaru #mondo owada #daiya owada #long post #ramblepuff #why is this my longest post ever wtf #also shout out to people who don’t really care about michi but still read through. hi

[minstrxll]

scara and dottore: bicker while calling each other sweet nothings

me: (((has a heart attack)))

#&&ooc; #I AM enamored with the married couple vibes #also dottore calling scara mon etoile??!?!?!? AHghdhgaskljl #INSTANT HEARTBURN GOODNESS ME #cala i cannot BELIEVE!!! the AUDACITY!!!!!!

[kashi-prompts]

Prompt: Above (but slightly altered)

Pairing: Kakashi x Reader (POV alternates between them) 

Wordcount: 4,963

Rating: M 

Trigger Warning: Graphic depictions of domestic violence, implied/suggested rape, and violence

A/N: Ok, so I got carried away with this one. This prompt has been in my head for a long time, and I didn’t know where I wanted to go with it. But if you’re a little emo millennial like I am, you’ll remember the song “Face Down” by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus that came out in like, 2010 or something. I listened to this song over and over again one day while I was driving and this idea came to my head. Please abide by the trigger warnings, as I feel this is pretty triggering. But I do hope those of you who enjoy the whole angsty vibe enjoy this. 

And [y/f’s/n] = Your friends name

Prompt below the cut: 

"Over here," the grip of his hand on your upper arm alerted you that you were moving through the crowd too quickly. He directed you back down the path he wanted to go. Hundreds of people lined the main street of Konoha in the culmination of the day's festival. You looked up, adjusting your kimono as you noted some teens arranging fireworks to be set off on the roof across from you. 

"This is a festival to celebrate love and relationships," you reminded your husband, frowning as he continued away from the festival's main road. You pushed a piece of hair away from your face, the hot air causing it to stick to your forehead with sweat. 

"What does it matter? We're already married, aren't we?" Aiko sighed, his irises pointing north in irritation. You noticed and agreed not to speak of it again. 

"Hey, Jiro!" Aiko's demeanor changed instantly at the sight of his friends huddled around a table, sake being poured generously all around. Slapping his hand between the man's shoulder blades, you watched your husband smile for the first time that day. 

Within moments, the lanterns in the streets were lit, and a glass of the fermented alcohol shoved haphazardly in your hand. The three men leaned against the table as you watched more people walk by, snippets of conversations passing you. You smiled dolefully as a young couple crossed the path before you, their enamored expressions radiating off their faces. 

You wearily twisted your wedding band with your thumb. 

Across the street, three men leisurely pitched themselves against the plank siding of Konoha's Dango shop. Despite the men lacking the commonly ordered shinobi uniform, one could still discern the nature of the three ninjas simply the way they displayed themselves. Although they were not on duty at the moment, their demeanor barely skimmed the surface of leisure. 

"Oiy," one burly gentleman sighed, exasperated by his friend's lack of interest, "Kakashi, won't you put that book down? Just enjoy the evening." 

The taller man shrugged, the tilt of his grey hair below the paper lantern above casting a shadow over his already partially covered face. He turned another page calmly, not looking up. 

"I'm here, aren't I? Isn't that enough for you both?" Kakashi responded, his thumb resting between the pages of his novel. A single dark eye glanced up at the two men. 

"Just listen to Guy," the brown-haired man exhaled, gesturing to the enthusiastic friend between them. "It would be nice to have you present once in and while. Maybe you can find a girlfriend here instead of always relying on that stupid book of yours for pleasure." 

Kakashi sighed heavily, scoffing at his friend and snapping the book shut in his palm, replacing it in the pocket of his kimono. Above them, the sudden popping sounds of fireworks shooting into the night sky filled the air. 

"I love the energy here," the man named Guy proclaimed suddenly, turning to look at the teenagers on the roof above them set up another round of colorful bursting rockets. The man clenched his fists in enthusiasm, smiling broadly. 

"I remember being that young," he said suddenly, "the rich life of youth!" 

Kakashi folded his arms across his chest and slumped deeper against the building. He had waited for this festival to end hours ago, imagining the familiarity of his warm bed at home and the burning desire for his mind to rest in the comfort of the book in his pocket. 

As the stream of citizens bustling down the dirt street finally divided, the silver-haired shinobi's eye settled on a woman across the street. Despite the clarity of her disquieted gaze, her appearance caught the shinobi's attention as his eye swiveled back to her. 

For a moment, something within his mind was set ablaze. The silver-haired man tilted his chin, studying the woman as she nursed a small glass of the clear liquid in her hand. Her slender fingers tapped against the drink while her thumb nervously twisted at the silver band on her ring finger. 

Behind his mask, he frowned slightly. She was taken, obviously. How could she not be? There was a grace to her that would be swept up by any man lucky enough to get close to her. Despite the obvious conclusion that he had made about her status, his eyes couldn't seem to leave her. The uneasy expression on her delicate features tugged at something within him. 

"I'm going to go get us a drink," Tenzo clapped a hand to his thigh, leaning forward from the wall. "Sound good?"

Kakashi nodded, looking away from the woman as another pack of eager teenagers wandered between her and the men. Instead, he watched Yamato push his way to the bar across the street where she stood, offering three fingers to the bartender in request. 

As Yamato waited, Kakashi observed the man at the table in front of the bar. A boisterous laugh echoed from the man's husky chest, slamming down an empty glass that once held a generous amount of sake. 

"If I really wanted to, I could take on any of these shinobi," Kakashi heard the man say to his friend. "I don't need to know any of that ju-ju shit." 

Beside him, Guy was oblivious to the entertainment unfolding before them. Kakashi managed to stifle a chuckle, looking away as the man began to roll up his sleeve to show off his beefy arm muscles. His single eye swiveled back to the woman, clearly embarrassed by the man's humiliating masquerade of virility beside her. 

The connection was suddenly made clear to Kakashi. 

"Hey, you!" the man yelled over the table, pointing to Yamato as he used an extra wooden hand to carry the three glasses back to his friends. 

"You're a shinobi, aren't you?" 

"Yes," Kakashi heard Yamato say, clearly unaware of the man's prior antics moments before, "Why?" 

"C'mere for a second," the man chuckled, waving the shinobi over. The burly man's friends snickered around the table, turning around to observe Kakashi's friend. Kakashi stood straighter. Beside him, Guy did the same, also suddenly aware of the strange situation displaying before them. 

A fist flew through the air without warning, and the sound of shattering glass filled the bar. Three glasses of sake spilled around their feet as Yamato's hand gripped the man's fist in front of his face agilely. 

"Aiko, stop!" The woman Kakashi had noted minutes before cursed at her husband, her eyes wild with embarrassment and anger. "What is wrong with you?" 

Yamato pushed back with one hand as Kakashi and Guy carefully made their way across the street to assist if needed. The man stumbled back, shaking his head in disgust. 

"You men are useless," he spat at Yamato. Kakashi and Guy stood at Yamato's shoulder. "All you stupid fucks do is go out and use your little magic to bring war to our village. Just because people aren't inherently born with your stupid-"

"That's enough," Kakashi commanded suddenly, taking a step forward. His other lid slid open, the twirl of three tomoe in his glowing eye a jarring sight to the group of men. Aiko scoffed, brushing off the scarecrow's display of authority before sitting back down. 

Kakashi turned, impervious to the man's words. As Guy opened his mouth beside him, Yamato quickly directed him away. 

Making his way back through the crowd, Kakashi glanced over at the woman beside him, her expression a blend of humiliation and gratitude. 

Clutching your drink, you stared at the silver-haired shinobi in front of you as he passed. The glow of his red eye eerie as he slowly closed his lid again. Did he know? 

****** 

2 Months Later

The humidity in the air was stifling. The typical steady flow of children darting about in the streets seemed to have been reduced to merely a trickle of one or two Genin desperately trying to cool themselves with the gardening hose outside the Yamanaka Flower Shop. 

The wait between missions was always a relatively appeasing time for the jounin leader. Although today, as he patrolled the streets with a book in his hand, he longed for a mission to a place with a cooler temperature than the sweltering climate he walked the streets in now. Drips of sweat cascaded down his spine, dampening his undershirt all the way to his vest. 

"Oh!" was all Kakashi heard as he felt the weight of someone walk into him. The pages of his book flew through the air, minging with a bag of groceries that fell to the ground.  

"I'm sorry!" he heard as he quickly assessed the situation. A messy lump of [y/h/c] knelt before him, picking up the groceries that had been scattered about the street. 

"No need to be sorry," he told the woman quickly, kneeling beside her. 

"I should have been looking where I was going," clearly flustered by the situation, she continued to grab her groceries and place them back in the bag. 

"It's okay," he chuckled, glancing up at her. His chest tightened for a moment as he viewed the woman he had seen in the bar a few months prior. Her beauty remained, but the apparent cast of malaise had overtaken her. He blinked, taken aback by the situation that had suddenly unfolded before him. 

"Are you okay?" He asked, lifting an arm to her shoulder, "did you hurt yourself?"

She evaded his touch, pulling away with her bag of groceries. He withdrew his gesture as she stood, clutching the bag to her chest. Looking down, he observed the wedding band still on her thinning finger. She looked ill, he thought. Or, at the very least, quite exhausted. Beneath his mask, his lips curved into a frown. 

"I'm fine. I must be going," she told him quickly, brushing by him. It was now evident to the jounin how this large bag of groceries had obscured this woman's view enough to run into him in the first place. 

"Let me at least help you carry your bag," Kakashi offered, taking a step towards her. 

"No!" she told him quickly, pulling the paper bag away from his grasp. "I'm fine, thank you." 

As she turned the arm grasping the bag away from him, his single eye glanced down at a deep-set bruise on her upper arm. The clear markings of four fingers having once gripped the skin caused his stomach to churn uncomfortably. He opened his mouth, attempting to frame a sentence of carefully composed words to her, but only a pause came from his lips. 

Without another word, the woman turned from him and quickly began heading over the bridge to the other side of town. Her gait struck him as rather peculiar, almost as though she were trying to make up the time she had lost moments before. Looking down, he grabbed his book from the dusty street and shoved it in his pocket, uneasy from the interaction. 

**** 

3 Months Later

Fall had arrived before you had even noticed the conclusion of the warmer days of the year. The lustrous canopies of trees that cocooned the village had shifted to autumn's mute yet vibrate colors. The crisp air of the night nipped at your cheeks as you walked at the ankles of your husband, keen to keep a distance yet knowledgeable enough not to fall behind. 

Another festival had arrived, this one focused on family. The two of you were supposed to be a family, having been married over two years ago. Yet you didn't feel like that was the case. It was almost as though the moment you had said "I do" to Aiko, he had changed. He had wanted a maid, a mother, and a ragdoll in one package. 

As the evening had progressed, you were sure he had learned his lesson from the previous spring festival. But once the arrival of his friends had commenced, you knew it would be similar. The gnawing, raw feeling in your stomach caused acid to flow freely into your mouth. 

You remembered the last festival, the one where he had made a fool of himself in front of those shinobi men. He had scolded and ridiculed you for not supporting him at that moment. It was considerably evident that your husband was no match for a trained ninja of the Leaf. Yet, his disgust for the protectors of the village only grew more. You suspected it was rooted in jealousy. 

Not realizing the extent of his burned complex that night, you had continued to go about the evening, unaware of what was to come. Once you had arrived home, it had been the first time the verbal abuse had turned physical. The memory of his grip flush against the curve of your neck, pinning you to the wall as he spat in your face, was as clear as it had been the night it happened. You could still hear his words, appalled that his wife had not supported him- maybe then he would have won. You could still feel the glass that had shattered and plunged into your skin as he threw you into the coffee table. 

You took in a shaky breath, trying to calm your anxiety that rose within you. You prayed it wouldn't be that kind of night. You prayed it wouldn't be the type of evening where you were both his physical punching bag and his sex ragdoll. The apologies he whispered to you after as he held you down to "make love" to you caused your skin to crawl. 

The abuse was blatant; there was no denying it. You couldn't say to yourself, "he loves me," because he did not. Yet, you couldn't find the strength or the dignity to leave. The more his words stung, the more you felt you deserved them. 

As you traveled through the street, you looked around, watching families partake in the street vendor sweets and games provided to them. Your hand went to your stomach, the emptiness within it a sad reminder that you were still not a mother. 

"What are you doing?" Aiko asked abruptly, his voice dripping with contempt and impatience. You turned your head, hurrying back over to him as you hadn't even realized you stopped walking. 

"Sorry," you mumbled. 

Later in the evening, the wind had picked up, and the festival lanterns waved in the breeze. Once again, the sake was flowing freely. It was setting up to be just as it had been that night in the spring. Your skin itched with anxiety. The wedding band on your finger was looser than before, falling to your knuckle as you sipped your drink nervously. 

"I bet you could take him out," you heard Aiko's friend say to him. Your eyes widened, and you looked to the sky, a silent prayer for peace falling from your lips. The obsession with shinobi had only grown worse since the incident. As unbenounced ninja passed them on the street, spit would fly from your husband's mouth to their sandaled feet. Mortified, you would always look away. 

But tonight, as you looked over at your husband in the bar, you realized the three men from that evening were behind him. The realization of what your husband and his friends were discussing hit you, and you quickly sucked down your alcohol to ease your distress. 

That shinobi that had helped you in the street that one day was there as well—the same one with the dancing red eye that had looked at you at the spring festival. 

Was he looking at you? You wondered, catching the gaze of his dark eye from across the room. You looked down at your empty drink, feeling a blush creep up your neck that didn't seem like it was from the sake. 

He��was handsome, you thought to yourself. You remembered the day you had bumped into him in the street, the way he had chucked at the way you apologized so profusely. When he had walked by you with that eye that night in the spring, it had felt like a real shock of electricity ran through your body. 

A clamor of chairs brought you out of your daydream as you quickly looked up, startled by the sudden noise. 

"Aiko!" you yelled, seeing your husband up against a wall with the forearm under his neck that belonged to the same shinobi he had tried to fight in the spring. This couldn't be happening, you thought. 

The shinobi with a terribly styled bowl cut pulled your husband off of the young man, restraining him. 

"What is your problem?" the brown-haired man shouted to Aiko, pushing him as the other held him in a headlock. 

"Guy, Tenzo!" the silver-haired man stood between them, pulling the men apart. 

A glob of spit flew through the air, hitting the man named Tenzo in the cheek. He gritted his teeth, angered as your husband looked at him in satisfaction. 

"Fuck you," Aiko said, "and fuck your stupid job." 

"Tenzo!" Kakashi forcefully shoved his comrade back as he lunged towards the man. "Enough! Guy, let's go!" 

Embarrassment flooded you like no other. The overwhelming realization of what had just unfolded before you caused acid to erupt in your stomach. You put your glass down, running out of the bar and into the street. You didn't care if your husband couldn't find you - you didn't care about it at all. You were mortified, mortified to be around him, associated with him, to be married to him. 

You pushed through the crowd, finding a dark alleyway at the end of the street where you could find solitude and rest for a moment. Tears streamed from your face as you slid your back down the side of a building. You held your face in your hands, unable to control the sob that erupted from your chest. You stayed there, clutching your knees to your chest as time ticked by. 

You were angry with yourself. You were disgusted for having been stupid enough to get yourself in a situation with such a dreadful and disorderly man. This was your fault, you thought. Your responsibility for not seeing the signs, for not realizing who he was - 

"Get up," you heard, interrupting your thoughts. Your body froze, unable to register the gravity of what was about to happen. You looked up, seeing the outline of your husband against the backlight of the street behind him. 

"Please, Aiko, I'm just-" 

"Get up!" 

You stood to your feet, your knees shaking uncontrollably beneath you. There was nothing you could do now. You had to deal with whatever was going to be delt to you. The rational side of your brain knew it wasn't your fault he had made a fool of himself, yet his tainted reputation and burned-out dignity only enraged him more- and somehow, you felt responsible. You were his punching bag - his relief. 

"Why did you leave?" he demanded, taking a step forward. 

"I was feeling ill," you told him, standing your ground as you lifted your chin. 

"You think you can leave?" he asked, his hot breath on your face. The stale smell of alcohol on his breath tickled your nose, causing nausea to churn in your stomach more. 

"You think you're better than me? Do you think this is all a game? That these men are better than me?"

"I never-" the sudden grip of his hand on your jaw caught your tongue between your teeth, the taste of metal in your mouth quickly spreading. 

"You disgust me," he seethed, the sweaty skin of his nose touching yours. Without hesitation, he threw your body to the side of the alley, slamming your head between the trashcans. 

"Go ahead, get up," he urged you mockingly as his foot slammed into your stomach. 

"Get up!" he yelled, watching you curl your body in pain on the concrete.

Aiko curled his hand into a fist, raising it above him as he leaned down. You braced your body for impact, knowing full well what was about to happen. Anger at yourself overwhelmed you. 

The sound of trashcans being pushed to the side abruptly filled the air of the small alleyway. You felt one hit the top of your head, and you moved quickly, sitting up with wide eyes. Your husband's arm was twisted behind him, and his face pushed into the brick building behind you. Blood seeped from a cut on his forehead. 

"You can't hit a real man, so you think you can hit a woman? You feel like a man now? Huh?" 

The comprehension of what was happening hit you as you scrambled back from the scene. The silver-haired ninja with the red eye slammed your husband harder against the wall, using the firm grip on Aiko's wrist to move him as though he weighed nothing. 

"Get off of me!" Aiko cried furiously, forcefully trying to free himself from the man's grip. You looked down, seeing the shinobi's forearm flex as he gripped your husband's wrist tighter. 

"Break your arm," the shinobi urged mockingly, "that's the only way you'll get out of this." 

Your husband thrust himself backward, wildly trying to free himself. Your eyes widened as you watched in one swift motion the shinobi pull Aiko to the ground, a fist landing firmly on his jawline. You closed your eyes, hearing the sounds of knuckles to flesh penetrate your mind. A mixture of anxiety and relief overwhelmed your senses. 

When the noises had settled, you looked up, watching the shinobi's chest heave in and out as he caught his breath—blood coating his knuckles. Your hand went to your mouth, shaking. He turned to look at you, his red eye open and glowing in the darkness. You scrambled to your feet. 

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said quickly, his expression turning from blind rage to concern. "Are you okay? You're bleeding." 

You reached up, touching the trickle of blood that streamed down from your hairline as the adrenaline from the situation began to die in your system. You felt dizzy, whether from the situation or the injury, you weren't sure. But when you looked back up, the man's spinning red eye was closed again, and he stared at you with worry. 

You looked to your beaten husband, his face puffy and red as he slumped against the wall, unconscious. 

"Is-Is-" you tried, words failing you as your body shook uncontrollably. 

"He's not dead," the shinobi told you quickly, "just unconscious. I just - I saw what he did to you and - he's the lowest scum on this earth."

His words fell silent as his chest still rose and fell with heavy breaths. You looked up at him, your eyes locking with his. The adrenaline and anxiety that had been building up in you peaked as your knees gave way below you. Your body fell to the ground as you let out a loud sob, one that had been accumulating within you for months. The overwhelming, unrelenting sense of fear that consumed you day in and day out had diminished, if only for a moment, right now. 

"Hey," he called quickly, kneeling before you. His voice was calm. You felt his hand on your shoulder, gentle and assuring as you cried. "Hey, it's okay." 

"This is my life," you felt the words tumble from your mouth, "this is how I live, day in and day out. These bruises are normal; this fear is normal." 

His silver eyebrows turned up in grief as waves of emotions overtook your body. After a moment, you felt an arm wrap around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest. This stranger, having saved you and comforted you in a dark alley in the middle of a festival. This stranger, who knew nothing of you, yet held you close to his beating chest as you clutched his kimono. You felt his hand on the back of your head, his skin sticky with your husband's blood. 

"It's okay," you heard him say to you, his chin atop of your head, "It's okay. I'm not going to let him hurt you again. I promise." 

***** 

Spring had come again. The blossoming sakura leaves a staple as the annual festival celebrating love commenced in the streets once again. You walked by yourself through the crowd, the newfound strange sense of independence feeling like a breath of fresh air to your lungs. You looked around, observing the same throng of teenagers pass by, another year older. 

You stopped, letting the dog at your side sniff a street pole. You smiled, leaning down to pet your brute of a hound. He looked up at you, wagging his tail at the affection you provided. 

"Good boy, Megumi," you smiled, flipping his ears warmly. Megumi had been given to you by that ninja named Kakashi after you had returned from the hospital for the severe concussion you had received that night. You were unsure where he had gotten the pup from, but the dogs small, doting eyes staring back at you won you over instantly. 

"He'll serve as a good sense of protection," Kakashi had told you, "and if you need any help training him, I'd be happy to help." 

That had been the last time you had seen the man who had saved you. Although often, you were sure you had seen him pass by you in the streets, only to realize it was someone else. You wondered how he was doing. 

Your husband had been promptly thrown into prison, collected on domestic abuse charges that were not tolerated within the village whatsoever. You slipped your bare ring finger through one of the loops of Megumi's chain. The divorce had been finalized last month. 

"[y/n]," someone had called. You turned, seeing your friend, [y/f's/n] wave happily to you. You smiled as she handed you a cup of warmly brewed tea. 

"How are you?" She asked brightly, "it's so nice to see you out. And how is little Megumi?" 

She bent down to pet the dog's ample head—another tail wag. 

"I'm good," you smiled. Your smile was genuine, your heart light. "Thank you. How are you?"

"Happy to see my friend!" the woman smiled, hugging your shoulders from the side. You beamed, laughing with your friend for what felt like the first time in years. Just as you turned your head, tittering off a laugh, your eye caught sight of a turf of silver hair in the sunlight. Your heart jumped in your chest, and you blinked.

"What is it?" your friend asked, her face falling. 

"Nothing, it's just -" you tried but couldn't form the words. It had been seven months since you had seen Kakashi. The angle of the lantern's light catching his sharp features as he conversed with his two friends. Beside you, your friend traced your gaze to the man a few meters away. 

"Is that-?" she trailed off, watching your face flush as your fingers tapped nervously against the cup of tea in your hand. 

"You're blushing!" she pointed out, a playful finger pointed at your nose. 

"I'm not," you waved a hand, "I'm just surprised to see him." 

"Why don't you go talk to him?"

"Oh no, I couldn't," you shook your head, fidgeting with Megumi's leash. 

"But he saved you! You should at least see how he's doing." 

"He was just doing his job, [y/f's/n]," you sighed, rolling your eyes at your friend. 

"No, it doesn't matter. You should go talk to him," she urged, pushing you towards him. 

"[Y/f's/n]!" she pushed you through the crowd, children dispersing as your dog sniffed his way over to Kakashi's leg. 

"Hey!" Kakashi chucked to the dog, a smile forming under his mask. His eyes traveled up the dog's chain to you as your friend's hands left your shoulders, disappearing into the crowd. 

"[y/n]," Kakashi smiled in surprise, a hint of nervousness in his voice as he looked at you. "I didn't-"

"How are you?" you asked suddenly, feeling your face flush. Kakashi blinked his single eye, tracing your face with his gaze as if to memorize it. You were sure you looked healthier than the last time he had seen you. 

"I'm good," he said finally, not realizing his friends disappearing behind him with snickering looks over their shoulder. "How are you?"

"Better," you smiled softly, holding Megumi's leash tightly as the dog sniffed at his feet. Kakashi leaned down to pet the dog, smiling as he patted the side of his chest. 

"And I see Megumi is doing good too," he cooed at the hound. 

"He is," you nodded, "thank you again." 

"Not a problem," he leaned back up, catching your eye again. You looked away, your chest flushing. A few awkward beats passed between you as you watched a couple pass by, their hands intertwined as they strolled down the street.

"Would you- like to grab something to eat?" You heard him ask, his voice dripping with nervousness. 

You turned back suddenly, your eyes snapping back to his. He smiled softly, lifting his eyebrows. 

"They have some good food stands here this time of year," he commented, "but if you'd rather not or if you're with your frien-"

"Of course," you said quickly, "I would love to." 

His eyes perked up at your acceptance, turning into two small crescent moons. He turned, waiting for you to follow. Your instinct told you to stay a foot behind him, but when he waited for you to step beside you, you realized he wanted you next to him. 

"So, are you wishing for anything?" he trailed off as the two of you began walking, a smile on your face. 

#kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #Kakashi imagines #Kakashi Hatake #kakashi hatake imagines #kakashi fanfiction #trigger warning #domestic violence awareness

[clumsyclifford]

hello bella’s ask box it’s been a min damn.

so the vibes are fucking everywhere w the music in the lab today so i’ve mostly been ignoring it but then unforgettable by thomas rhett started playing and my brain was immediately like This Is a Fic Song

more importantly it is a Bella Fic Song

last time you not so subtly wanted me to prompt u w w thomas rhett song you told me to do that here so i am back again w another song from ur boy

okay i def snuck out just to send this so i gotta go now but this felt important laksdjdld

ok ily bye 💛

hi sam :)

so.................... i was stuck on what to write you for your birthday fic. you sent me this ask prompting me with a thomas rhett song that i had literally been meaning to write a fic based on for almost a full year. the puzzle pieces just aligned REALLY nicely on this one.

happy birthday, my love. there's gonna be a LOT more sappy shit in the ao3 notes, but please know that my life is irreversibly changed for the better because i met you. i am dangerous close to sounding like glinda from wicked and i really want you to get to READ this fic so please see ao3 for more schmaltz. i love you so much.

tw for alcohol

read here on ao3

-

Every life has a moment that imprints on memory like ink on a fresh page. The kind of moment that permanently alters the trajectory of that life, that marks the ending of one chapter and the beginning of another. Some people are lucky enough to have more than one. Some people’s minds are laden with crystallized memories. But there’s always at least one. One completely unforgettable moment.

For Jack, this moment happens twenty-four minutes after he enters the club.

Twenty-three minutes after he enters the club, Zack returns with his and Jack's second beers and says, "There's some guy at the bar who's totally your type."

"Yeah?" Jack cranes his neck, but he can't quite see the bar from where he is. "My type how? Not just 'lonely and drunk,' right? My standards have gotten higher, you know."

Zack hands Jack his beer. "He's cute and he's wearing a One Direction shirt, and I'm pretty sure he's drinking a margarita.”

"Oh shit," Jack says. "That checks all my boxes."

"I know it does," says Zack, winner of the Wingman Of The Decade award. He claps Jack on the shoulder. Jack sidesteps people until he gets eyes on the bar and scans for a cute guy in a One Direction shirt drinking a margarita.

Twenty-four minutes after Jack enters the bar, he sees Alex.

And everything changes forever.

*

"Woah," Jack says. His gut is feeling weird and it’s probably unrelated to the beer and a half under his belt.

"What?"

"The guy at the bar," Jack says, grabbing Zack's arm. "Zack. You grossly undersold my future husband to me."

"Your future husband?" Zack sounds amused, but Jack isn't kidding.

"Remember this moment," he says seriously, giving Zack a sloppy pat on the bicep before moving away from him, towards the bar, towards the cute guy with the One Direction shirt who's making Jack understand clairvoyance. "Remember this so you can tell the story at our wedding!"

"Your wedding," Zack repeats.

"Our fucking wedding!" Jack insists, more loudly as space and drunk people fill the growing gap between him and Zack. Zack just gives him a good-luck-and-godspeed wave.

Seconds later, Jack is at the bar.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

The cute guy in question looks up, surprised. Jack practically reels. It's a miracle people aren't flocking to this guy; he's not just cute, he's gorgeous. Bleach-blond hair — clearly from a bottle, which somehow Jack finds more attractive — flops over his forehead in a stubborn commitment to the emo fringe that died out a decade ago, and long lashes frame brown eyes that rival the glossy chestnut color of the bar. Add the five o'clock shadow and the sharply angled jaw and Jack's speechless.

Fortunately it's not his turn to speak. "I have a drink," says the guy, who is rapidly progressing from Cute Guy At Bar to Possible Soulmate At Bar. He quirks a smile. Jack's done for. "I'll buy you a drink, though."

Jack sets his partially-drunk beer on the bar top and slides it as far as he can reach. "Okay," he says.

Possible Soulmate laughs. He slides his margarita away from him, too, pushing it into the space of another person sitting down the bar. "Touché. Okay, you can buy me a drink."

"Well, hey, I don't want you to waste yours," Jack says reasonably. He retrieves his beer and then Possible Soulmate's drink. "I'll get the next one."

Possible Soulmate smiles. Jack is going to need his name eventually. "I appreciate your commitment to environmentally-friendly consumption of alcohol."

Jack blinks. "Yeah," he says. "That was a lot of big words, but sure. No problem. I'm Jack, by the way."

"Alex." Alex. Jack can see the wedding invites now.

"Nice to meet you," Jack says. "I like your shirt."

Alex glances down out of instinct as the wide collar of the shirt slips over his shoulder. "Thanks," he says with a chuckle, and looks up at Jack. "I like yours."

With great effort, Jack tears his gaze from Alex's shoulder and the hint of collarbone peeking out, but he would like it on the record that it is tremendously difficult. Fortunately he already knows what shirt he's wearing because he'd agonized over it for several minutes longer than Zack's patience ran, shortly before going out.

"Yeah, Kurt Cobain," he says, nodding with probably too much enthusiasm. "I'm a lead singer guy."

"Really?" Alex tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. "Meaning what?"

"I go for the lead singer types," Jack explains. "Kurt Cobain, Billie Joe Armstrong, you know." He nods at Alex's shirt. "Harry Styles."

"Harry Styles wasn't—" Alex breaks off and snorts. "Eh, whatever. Who cares."

"Wait," Jack says. "Hold the phone. Did you fucking cross out Zayn's face?"

Alex looks down at his shirt again like maybe he'll have forgotten what it looks like. "Oh, my friend did that. But now the shirt is factually accurate."

"If you wanted an accurate shirt you'd have to cross them all out since none of them are in the band anymore," Jack observes.

Alex slowly smiles. "I guess."

"I always liked Zayn," Jack says wistfully. "His solo shit is so good, though."

"It's good," Alex says, kind of in the tone of voice of someone who doesn't really agree but doesn't want to get into it, so Jack leaves it be. They can poll their wedding guests. "I'm really digging Niall's solo shit."

"That's an extremely acceptable answer," Jack says, nodding vigorously. In the moment it slips his mind that he's holding a beer and the liquid begins to slosh out of its container. "Oh shit, fuck, sorry."

"Didn't get me," Alex says, passing Jack a napkin. "Couple too many, I get it."

"What?" Jack is very focused on drying his hands so they don't get sticky and gross. "I'm not drunk."

Alex laughs. "Yeah, right."

"I'm not!"

"Okay," Alex says lightly, but it's clear he doesn't believe Jack. On the bright side, he doesn't seem bothered by it.

"I am acceptably drunk for a guy in his mid-twenties at a club,” Jack amends. "And you owe me a drink anyway."

"Hey, I intend to buy you that drink," Alex says earnestly. "Another beer?"

Jack shakes his head. "Vodka soda," he says. "It's a special occasion."

"Really! You celebrating something?"

"I am now," Jack says. "Celebrating meeting my future husband."

"Your future husband?"

"You," Jack says, in case it wasn't clear. "It's not every day you meet the man you're gonna marry. I think it calls for a celebratory vodka soda."

Alex stares, obviously expecting Jack to say sike! When Jack does no such thing, he gives a small, incredulous laugh.

"Fair enough," he says. He sounds like he's humoring Jack. That's okay. Jack is serious, but Alex will figure that out on his own time. "I guess you're not wrong. That doesn't happen every day."

A large shadow materializes on Alex's other side, blocking light like some very cliché movie villain. It's not Doc Ock, but it is some tall, burly guy, a leer affixed to his face that's probably been there since Alex's haircut went out of style.

"Hey, baby," he says in an unnervingly deep voice. The part of Jack that isn't super skeezed out is a little jealous. But Burly Guy isn't talking to Jack; Jack may as well be invisible. To Alex, Burly Guy says, "Saw you across the bar and I just had to come over."

Didn't have to, Jack thinks grumpily to himself. You could have stayed across the bar. If you walk away now we’ll pretend we never saw you.

"Can I get you a drink?" Burly Guy asks, and honestly, Jack has no idea what Alex is going to say.

Big Burly Guy with a deep voice a la Morgan Freeman vs. resident beanstalk Jack whose voice sounds like a rejected cartoon character design. What a tough choice.

Jack is just preparing to cut his losses when Alex grabs Jack's wrist, turns to him, and says, "Honey? What do you think?"

Jack's tipsy, but Alex is definitely communicating something with his eyes, and between that and the pet name Jack is pretty sure he's on the same page.

"You want to buy my boyfriend a drink?" Jack asks Big Burly Guy, cranking up the Bitchy energy because he doesn't get to do it a lot and it's kinda fun. His voice has definitely gone vaguely southern-auntie, but he's rolling with it. "Sorry, sugar, this seat's taken. Must be this guy" — he points at himself — "to ride."

"This guy?" Burly Guy echoes, furrowing his eyebrows at Jack and then looking at Alex with profound confusion, like he just doesn't get it. "You're with this guy?"

"Happily," Alex says, glancing back at Jack, who offers him what is definitely a convincingly enamored smile because Jack is legitimately enamored. Alex laces their fingers together and Jack's not delusional, can't be, not when they fit this well together. No way. "So I'm gonna pass on that drink. Sorry, man. No hard feelings."

Burly Guy seems to have some hard feelings. Maybe he didn't get the memo. "Whatever," he says gruffly. "Your loss."

Jack can't resist countering, "Actually it's your loss, sweetums," as Burly Guy retreats. If he dies tonight, he knows who’s responsible.

As soon as he's gone, Alex breaks down laughing, and Jack quickly follows suit. Alex's hand slips from Jack's and begins to tug at the ends of his own hair instead.

"Sugar?"

"I don't know what happened," Jack says/wheezes. "I became possessed by Blanche from Golden Girls.”

"You have to be" — Alex prods Jack's chest — "this guy to ride." He dissolves into giggles and Jack is laughing too but mostly because Alex's laugh is incredibly contagious.

"Look, I don't blame him," Jack says, feeling exhilarated. "You are the best-looking guy in this establishment. He just happened to have creepo vibes."

"I am not the best-looking guy in this establishment," Alex says, grinning at Jack. "Nice of you to say, though."

"Hey, I'm serious!"

"I thought you were Jack."

Jack stares at Alex and Alex doesn't even last a second before he's breaking down laughing yet again.

I'm going to marry you, Jack thinks, and it almost scares him how serious he is about that. He opens his mouth and says, "That wasn't even— that's not even one of the good dad jokes! That's the most boring one!"

"There is no such thing as a boring dad joke."

"You should go into stand-up," Jack says dryly. "You'd tear down the house with this set. I can see it now." He waves a grandiose hand in the air as if painting the marquee into existence, but when he goes to introduce the act he realizes he's missing most of the crucial information. "Alex…something…something. Austin, Texas, one night only."

"Gaskarth," Alex says. "That's my last name."

"Alex Something Gaskarth," Jack loyally amends, and gives Alex a look like, well?

Except Alex is giving Jack that same look. "I only know your first name and you expect me to tell you my full one?"

"Jack Bassam Barakat," Jack says, gesturing impatiently. "Come on, I'm trying to introduce your act here."

"Guess," Alex says.

"Guess?"

"It's a pretty basic middle name," Alex says. "I'll buy you your vodka soda when you guess it."

"Alex," Jack says. "I am not going to guess your middle name. I am so bad at these games and I'm fucking drunk."

"Quitter," Alex says. "Do you want your drink?"

Jack scowls, trying to channel Blanche again, but Alex is apparently immune.

"Give me a hint," he finally concedes.

"It's a British name," Alex says. “Pretty standard British.”

"Are you British?”

Alex nods. "Born and raised. Moved here when I was about…eight? But I'm not an American citizen. I have a green card."

Yet another reason they should be married. Jack could extend his citizenship to Alex. Plus he'd gain British citizenship, which would probably be useful for, like, travel or One Direction stalking or whatever.

"That's sick," Jack says. "I was born in Lebanon. We moved when I was a baby."

"That's so cool," Alex says, sounding genuinely interested. He props his chin on his hand and gives Jack a cheeky smile. "Now guess."

Jack sighs. "Uh, Charles."

"No."

"Darcy."

"Darcy?"

"Margaret."

"Jack."

"You said it's a British name!"

"A British man's name," Alex says, rolling his eyes in fond exasperation.

Jack takes a long pull from his beer, swallows, and says, "Harry."

"No."

They're going to be here awhile. Jack pulls out the seat next to Alex and settles in while he racks his brain for British names.

*

“Alfred.”

“Nope.”

“John.”

“No.”

“Paul.”

“No.”

“George.” Alex shakes his head. “Ringo.”

“Yup, you finally got it,” Alex says. Jack is over the moon for a split second before it sinks in that Alex is fucking with him. “Alex Ringo Gaskarth. Well done.”

“Fuck off, I’m doing my best here,” Jack says.

“You’re missing one incredibly obvious name,” Alex says. “It’s not that hard.”

“For you,” Jack says. “Because you already know it.” Alex is grinning. Jack likes that he’s enjoying himself. It makes this guessing game fun. Under any other circumstances, this guessing game would not be fun, but Alex makes it fun.

Alex has also finished his mango margarita by now, and Jack’s beer is long since empty. He’s itching for another drink, mainly for something to do with his hands.

As if reading his mind, Alex flags down the bartender, who sidles up with a small smile and says, “What can I get you boys?”

Jack blinks at her. Mostly at her accent, which is not American.

“Vodka soda,” Alex says. To Jack, “I think you’ve earned it.” Jack smiles.

“And a mango margarita,” he puts in to the bartender, “and are you British?”

The bartender looks amused. “I am British,” she says.

“Please help me,” Jack says. “Alex says his middle name is a British name and I cannot for the life of me figure out what it fucking is.”

“Jack, the nice bartender lady has other things to do,” Alex says with a laugh. The nice bartender lady probably does have other things to do, but she shifts her weight and gives Alex an appraising look instead.

“Harry?”

“Tried that,” Jack says, realizing at once that this is a pointless endeavor. The nice bartender lady is going to guess everything Jack’s already guessed and he’ll just have wasted her time. “I’ve tried every member of One Direction, every member of the Beatles, every member of Oasis, every Harry Potter character, every member of the Royal Family—”

At this, Alex coughs conspicuously.

Jack rounds on him. “I have.”

“Edward,” the bartender offers. Alex’s lips are pressed together in a smile and he shakes his head. “Meghan. Kate. Richard. Dick. Philip.”

A lightbulb goes off as the bartender is listing Royal Family names. Jack wants to kick himself. “Oh my— William?”

“Yeahhhh, there you go! See, it was easy,” Alex says, grinning widely.

“William,” the bartender repeats with a charming little laugh. Her lipstick is bright with clean lines, an impressive feat considering Jack has seen her bustling around this bar for almost an hour now. “I had an ex called William.”

“Oh no,” Alex says. “I hope he didn’t ruin the name for you.”

“Please,” the bartender says, waving him off. “The only thing he ruined for me was a few meters of drywall.” Jack and Alex must have twin looks of concern, because she explains, “Anger issues. No worries, boys, I sent him packing, and a vodka soda for you, and a mango marg for you.”

She slides their drinks into waiting hands and starts to turn away. “Wait a sec,” Jack says.

The bartender turns back to him with wide Bambi eyes. “Did I fuck up the drink? I’ve made it a million—”

“No no no,” Jack assures her. “I just wanted to know your name. You rescued me from an eternal guessing game, you’re my hero.”

The bartender smiles and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Maisie,” she says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, Maisie,” Alex says. “Thank you for the alcohol.”

Maisie laughs again as she moves to the other side of the bar.

“William,” Jack says, swirling his drink with the miniature straw. “God damn. I can’t believe I missed William.”

“You got close,” Alex says. “You guessed Liam twice. And thanks for the drink.”

“Same to you,” Jack says. “It’s a good drink. Yours, I mean. You know what offends me, though? Why aren’t mango margaritas orange?”

Alex furrows his brow. “Why the fuck would they be orange?”

“Mangos are orange! Fruity drinks should be the same color as their fruit.”

“Mangos are not fucking orange,” Alex says with an incredulous laugh. “They’re straight-up yellow.”

“They’re orange with yellow tendencies,” Jack says, “but mostly orange.”

“They are entirely yellow,” Alex says. “Coldplay even wrote a song about them. They were all yellow.”

“They’re orange,” Jack insists, but now Alex has moved on completely and is loudly singing Coldplay.

“I came along! I wrote a song foooor youuuuu! And all the things you do!”

“You’re ignoring the truth!”

“And it was called ‘Yellow’!” Alex shouts.

“Okay, I surrender! Sheesh. You win.”

“Thank you,” Alex says placidly, like he hasn’t just been yelling obnoxiously over the (worse, but much louder) club music. “I’m going to enjoy my yellow mango marg very much.”

“And I will enjoy my victory drink,” Jack says, lifting his glass. Alex lifts his. It smells like mango and tequila. They clink the rims together. “To William.”

“To William,” Alex agrees, laughing.

*

The DJ plays a song Jack loves to hate from hearing it on the radio so many times and Alex is out of his seat before Jack’s managed to put down his drink.

“What are—”

“I love this song, I want to dance,” Alex insists. The implication is clearly that he wants Jack to dance with him, which is like. What is Jack gonna do, say no?

Alex must anticipate some kind of argument, though, because with a glint in his eye he adds lightly, “These are the kinds of things you’ll have to do if we’re married.”

On the one hand, he’s clearly making fun. But on the other hand, the fact that Alex was a stranger an hour ago and is still comfortable teasing Jack about suggesting they’re going to get married speaks volumes. Alex is smiling. They’ve known each other for less than an hour — a drink and a half each — and Alex is smiling at his own joke about marrying Jack. Like he likes that Jack said it first. Like he likes Jack.

“Just wait ‘til you learn all the weird shit you’ll have to do when we’re married,” Jack says, sliding out of his stool.

Any sane person would have run away by now. Even Jack knows when he’s coming on too strong.

But Alex does the opposite; Alex grabs his wrist and pulls him towards the dance floor.

“Fair warning,” Alex says. “I don’t actually know how to dance.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Jack says, and then eats his words not two seconds later when Alex demonstrates how very much he doesn’t know how to dance. All of his limbs seem to move as their own entities, zero synchronization. A couple surrounding people take various minor assaults before taking the hint and giving Alex some space, but this does not stop him. “Okay,” Jack says loudly over the music. “You were right. But luckily neither do I.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Alex says.

Jack does the sprinkler. Alex snorts. He does the wave, very poorly, and Alex continues it, also very poorly.

“Mr. Moves,” Alex says. “I’m impressed.”

“Yeah? Check this one out.” Jack does the running man with extreme focus. Alex laughs, leaning towards Jack as he does. Jack stops dancing so he doesn’t accidentally hit Alex, who is suddenly much closer and who somehow smells like pine and flannel and fall and winter in one and is the best-looking person in blue jeans and checkered Vans on this dance floor. Far from the only person, but without question the prettiest.

Fuck.

“I don’t think I can do that one,” says Alex, grinning. Jack nods at him like, try it, so Alex does, proving himself right. He almost takes Jack’s eye out.

“Yeesh, okay, you’re— alright, take it easy,” Jack says, swatting Alex’s wayward hand away and laughing. “Well, we all have our strengths.”

Surrendering the running man, Alex starts up with some bizarre hand-wavey foot-kicky thing, singing along to the music.

“Do you seriously like this song?” Jack asks, attempting to imitate Alex’s dance. “Dance,” heavy quote marks implied.

Alex shoots Jack a look. “Hell yeah. What, you don’t?”

“It’s just…always on,” Jack says. “Everywhere. How are you not sick of it?”

“Because it fuckin’ slaps!” Alex looks incensed.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised you’re a pop music person when you’re literally in a One Direction shirt.”

“I’m a lots of music person,” Alex counters. “Including pop music, yeah. You don’t like pop music?”

“I sometimes do,” Jack says. “I like Taylor Swift. Britney Spears.”

“Okay, well, you’d have to be insane not to like them.”

“Yeah, and I’m obviously sane.”

Alex barks a laugh. “Drunk but sane.”

“I am not drunk!” That’s probably a lie by now.

“You’re not convincing me otherwise,” Alex says. “I’m confident you’ve been drunk this whole time.”

“You haven’t exactly been an innocent bystander,” Jack says. “You bought me a drink, and you’re gonna buy us shots in a minute.”

“I did— I what?”

“Yeah,” Jack says, and this time he drags Alex off the dance floor, back to the bar. “I can see the future, I forgot to tell you.”

“You—” Alex laughs again and leans on the bar, trapping both his elbows between his stomach and the bartop. “You’re buying the next round.”

“Oh, happily,” Jack says. “I’m actively trying to get you drunk.”

“Why’s that?”

“Studies show I am 75% more attractive to people when they’re drunk,” says Jack.

Alex turns to him. Without missing a beat, he says smoothly, “I don’t think it’s possible for you to get any more attractive.”

Fuck. Actually, fuck. Seriously. Fuck.

“You must be drunk already, then,” Jack says.

Alex smiles serenely. “I feel pretty sober.”

“Exactly what a drunk person would say,” Jack says. “J’accuse, William.”

Alex laughs. “In that case, your studies are right.”

Jack’s probably blushing. He does that in extreme cases only, but this is nothing if not an extreme case. Alex is fucking relentless.

Maisie the bartender is back, and Alex orders them shots of tequila. Somewhere in the recesses of Jack’s mind, this unlocks a memory, and he snaps his fingers. “I should hunt down my friend, he loves tequila.”

“Friend?” Alex looks around while Maisie pours their shots. “You ditched your friend?”

“He told me to,” Jack says. “He’s probably gonna pick up some girl. Actually, he probably already has.”

“Really,” Alex says, sounding amused.

“Zack’s a strong silent type,” Jack explains. “Emphasis on strong. We’re single guys in our mid-twenties, Alex. We’re not going to clubs for the atmosphere.”

“Admit it,” Alex says. “You a little bit are.”

Jack bites his lip. “Fine, I like the atmosphere,” he admits, more affected than he should be that Alex seems to have picked up on this about him. “And the alcohol. And the chances I’ll meet my future husband, which clearly paid off. Zack will never admit it, but I’m pretty sure he likes trying to set me up with random people in clubs.”

Alex laughs. “He set you up with me?”

“Oh yeah,” Jack says. “He wingmanned me hard. You can thank him in your vows.”

This only serves to make Alex laugh harder. “I’ll thank him now,” he says with a grin. Taking his cue, Jack grabs his shot glass. Alex does the same. “To Zack.”

“To Zack!” Jack cheers, and they both down their shots.

“Me?”

Jack whirls around and trips straight into Zack. “Zack!” he says brightly. “We toasted you.”

“I heard,” Zack says. “Why, exactly?”

“I’m Alex,” says Alex, holding out a hand. Zack shakes it. “Apparently you set us up?”

“Oh,” Zack says. “I wouldn’t really say that. I just kind of pointed Jack in this direction. If you can put up with him, that’s all you.”

“I was gonna come find you anyway,” Jack says. “We’re doing tequila shots. Next round on me.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Zack says. “Count me in.”

They can’t come up with a toast for their second round so they just knock it back with an ambiguous cheer; then Zack offers to buy another, and Jack’s not about to refuse. It’s starting to hit just right, so he’s buzzed but not incoherent. All his most brilliant ideas come in this state.

Case in point: as Maisie is pouring them their third round, Jack suddenly says, “Maisie! Do a shot with us!”

Maisie looks up and laughs. “I’m not supposed to drink on the job,” she says.

“It’s not drinking, it’s bonding,” Jack insists.

“Yeah, we’re forming lasting friendships,” Alex jumps in.

Zack looks entertained. “You guys know each other?”

“As of half an hour ago, yes,” Maisie says.

“Maisie here helped me guess Alex’s middle name,” Jack explains. “Which is William. Like the prince.”

“I feel like I missed so much,” Zack says, half to himself. He shrugs and nods at Maisie. “One shot. On me. For Jack. We won’t tell.”

Maybe it’s because Zack is buff and has cool tattoos or just has good vibes or whatever, but Maisie hesitates only a second before inclining her head. “Just one, and no blabbing,” she says, meeting all of their eyes in turn. Everyone nods solemnly, and Maisie discreetly pours herself a fourth shot.

“Hell yes!” Jack whoops as they all take a shot glass. “To Maisie!”

“To Maisie!” Everyone echoes, including Maisie with a wry grin.

The third shot goes down smoother than the first two. Jack swallows his easily, as does Alex. Maisie puckers her face a bit. Zack has zero reaction, because Zack’s just kinda like that.

“While I’m here, I was hoping to get another beer,” Zack says.

“On it,” Maisie says immediately, giggling. “Thanks for the shot, boys. You’ve kept me far more entertained tonight than my usual shift provides.”

“You can give a toast at our wedding,” Jack says to her. Zack’s eyes widen a little, Alex snorts, and Maisie laughs.

“I’d be honored,” she says. “Back to work now. You need anything, let me know.”

“Seriously, Jack?”

“What?” Jack gives Zack an innocent smile. He pats Zack on the cheek. “Don’t worry, sugar, you can give a toast too.”

Alex laughs. Zack stares at him and shakes his head. “You’re insane,” he says, but he says that roughly twice a day so he’s still below his quota. “I’ll leave you two alone. Come find me when you wanna go. If…” He eyes Alex. “...Just…yeah.”

And with these eloquent words, he disappears with his beer into the crowd.

“I like him,” Alex announces.

“Me too,” Jack says. He turns back to Alex. “Back to the dance floor?”

“Get out of my brain,” Alex says. “I’d like to see your drunken running man.”

“It is gonna blow your fucking mind,” Jack promises, and Alex laughs again.

*

They’re not even being gross like everyone else. Alex has pulled Jack into an exaggerated tango performed mostly with missteps when it happens: someone shoves them aside as they walk past, and Alex loses his balance and falls into Jack, who just barely manages to catch them both. He doesn’t manage to stop his arm from winding around Alex’s waist. To be fair, he doesn’t try very hard.

Jack’s first thought is homophobe, but then he spots the offender, lumbering off with heavy footfalls, and it’s Burly Guy from earlier. The guy who tried and failed to pick Alex up.

All of this registers as Alex slowly regains his footing. “Damn, who pissed in that dude’s Cheerios?”

“It’s the guy from before who tried to buy you a drink,” Jack says, pointing at his back.

Alex whips his head around. “Seriously? Asshole.”

Jack chooses not to observe that from his vantage point, being shoved close together is hardly a dick move. In intent, sure, but not in actuality; Jack’s enjoying the proximity a great deal. Like, a lot.

Like, his hand is still on Alex’s hip, subtly keeping Alex close, and Alex has his arm around Jack’s shoulders from their dance and he’s not moving, either.

“Yeah,” Jack says. They’d already been on the outskirts and now they’re off to the side of everyone, wallflowers.

Alex breathes a laugh and looks back at Jack. He doesn’t step back or even lean away, even though their faces are too close to be friendly now. Jack hadn’t really been expecting friendly, but they’ve been tightrope-walking between sides, and if neither of them breaks this up then they’ll be irreversibly left on one end.

Jack has no intention of moving away. He likes this end of the tightrope. For all he cares, they could cut the tightrope and free-fall together.

“You’re pretty good at bad tango-ing,” Alex says, reaching up to brush away the sweaty fringe that’s clinging to his forehead.

Jack grins. “Well, you know what they say. It takes two.”

Alex kisses him so suddenly that Jack almost loses his balance.

*

He tastes like tequila. That’s all Jack gets before they’re not kissing anymore. The room feels quiet and then unforgivably loud the next second, and Alex is flushed and smiling nervously, and Jack is smiling too, not nervous at all.

“Did I tell you I’m in a band?” Alex asks in a rush.

Jack’s brain struggles to keep up. He can’t remember Alex mentioning a band, but he’s also distracted by wanting to kiss Alex again. There’s no understating the power of wanting to kiss someone over failing to clock anything they say. “What?”

“I’m in a band,” Alex says. “Not as a job, just like, for fun.”

“Oh,” says Jack.

“I’m the lead singer,” Alex says, with a flickering look down at Jack’s shirt.

“Oh,” says Jack, because, like, oh. “Can I kiss you again?”

“What, here?” Alex meets his eyes. “With all these people around?”

“You kissed me first,” Jack says. “Let me kiss you and then we can call it even.”

“Okay,” Alex says, and Jack’s kissing him before the word’s really out of his mouth.

And he tastes like tequila and mango and sugar and the color yellow and the sweat of the dance floor and God, it’s good. It’s like kissing a memory, except this memory is still here, not frozen in time, not trapped in an ornate frame. He’s creating a memory that he knows he’ll relive for the rest of his life.

Somehow, though he doesn’t know the end of this chapter, he knows the end of the book.

Alex’s warm palm cradling Jack’s cheek to hold him steady, fingers splayed out like a star; Alex’s other hand grazing skin over the collar of Jack’s shirt. Alex singing Coldplay in Jack’s ear. Alex’s blue jeans and his checkered Vans and his ridiculous One Direction tank top. Alex holding Jack’s hand and calling him honey to get Burly Guy to leave him alone. Grinning as he shoots down guess after guess for the elusive middle name. Laughing at Jack’s stupid dance moves. Knocking back a shot like it’s nothing. Smiling when Jack says they’re going to get married, never moving away, only ever closer.

Alex sitting undisturbed at the bar, ankles crossed, and Jack seeing him from across the room like something out of a goddamn Hallmark movie and just knowing.

He tugs Alex closer but Alex is already pulling away with a smile. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah,” Jack says. He smoothes a hand over a crease in Alex’s shirt and nods. “Taxi’s on me if we go back to your place.”

“Sucker, I was gonna suggest that anyway,” Alex says with a quiet laugh. “You should tell Zack. Don’t wanna just leave him.”

“Don’t worry,” Jack says. “He knows.”

“He knows?”

“Zack and I are brothers in clairvoyance,” Jack says. “How many times do I have to tell you this?”

“I knew you could see the future,” Alex says. “You never told me Zack could, too.”

“Zack can see everyone’s future,” says Jack. “I can only see mine.”

“Yeah? What’s your future look like now?”

Jack filters out several inappropriate comments. It’s hard when Alex is smirking, clearly baiting him. “I told you,” he says. “You, me, vows, rings, the works.”

“Not that future,” Alex says. “I’m talking about the immediate one.”

It takes everything in Jack not to get down on one knee and say so was I. There’s a tilt in Alex’s head, like a dog listening carefully for a familiar sound.

“Honestly?” Jack says, and Alex nods. “I think it’s more fun if we find out together.”

#jack barakat #alex gaskarth #jalex #jalex fic #all time low #atl fic #fic #my fic #sam. i love you #i have wrung out all my love for you in this fic and the ao3 notes and stuff #but i hope you like it #i hope you love it #but ill be happy if you just like it at least #i should relaly go to sleep so i can wake up early again like a smart reasonable person to at least ATTEMPT to get SOME of my work done #sighhhhh #the sacrifices we make #i can't believe yom kippur is so soon and im worrying about homework #hate it here #my one regret is that this song says fourteenth of october not fourteenth of september #missed opportunity on mr rhett's part #bruh i would kill to see him live #anyway #happy birthday my love

[be-dazzled]

The Art of Falling

Chapter II LOVE, AN ABSTRACT CONCEPT

Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser, Gajeel Redfox Alternative Historical Universe Genre: Old World Vibes, Period Romance All Chapters: Click here

Writer’s Corner: I think we have to make this one alternative historical since, Juvia will obviously maintain her blue locks. She isn’t Juvia if she won’t. Also, as promised, this is going to be a monthly update. So, see you next September! Let me know what you think. Show your girl some love.

Masterlist

“Let me put this into perspective,” Lady Mika Fullbuster slowly started, trying to make sense out of Gray’s proposal, “this woman you speak of, the woman who left you beaten out in the cold, is the woman you wish to marry?”

The gentleman seated opposite her inside the carriage was looking out the window, at the passing scenery through the small frame of the horse-drawn carriage. He expelled a breath of exasperation as he repeatedly answered the question since the first night he proposed the notion.

“Mother, no matter how many times you ask, the answer will remain unchanged.” Gray did not take his eyes off the window as he answered; finding the herd of cattle tended by an old cattleman far more interesting than to keep repeating himself. So, he only heard his mother turn to the patriarch for confirmation.

“And we are going to allow this?”

“The Locksers aren’t a bad family, dear. I’ve met the gentleman many times.” There was a rustle of paper as Silver turned the page of the periodicals he was reading. “As a matter of fact, their family was one of the original settlers of Magnolia. They still have some connection, although very little.”

It took Gray a week or two to finally find the peculiar woman he met at the night of his welcome party. It came as a surprise to him when he learned that Juvia Lockser, one of the daughters of the Lockser family, had lived her entire life in Magnolia. She didn’t seem to share the genteel modesty expected of the ladies of such prestigious town. But who was he to judge as he only met him through those humiliating affairs.

“That wasn’t what I meant, dear.” The other half of the Fullbuster couple swiftly rectified. There was a slight embarrassment in her tone as she feared that her question was deemed critical of the Locksers. “I am only concerned for our son’s well-being. For him to marry a woman he just met in such an extraordinary circumstance…” She trailed off, mulling over her next words.

Gray had an idea what his mother was most worried about – that he would be bringing an unrefined lady into the Fullbuster family. It was, after all, his mother’s duty to see to it that the woman he chooses to marry was fit for the Fullbuster name. That meant that his future wife must possess all his mother’s requirements. Unfortunately, Juvia Lockser seemed to have fallen short of those requirements. So, why was he squandering time travelling to the Lockser household? He could simply not tell them the true reason. Hence, he covered with, “She is the woman I choose.” As if his words offered any explanation but certainly resolve.

“If she tickles his fancy, my love, there is nothing either of us can do about it.” He folded the paper and turned to his wife, saying his next words with finality and resignation. “The heart desires what it desires.”

His father’s words pulled Gray’s attention towards the couple who shared a look filled with silent adoration. It made Gray consider about ‘his heart’s desire’? It was preposterous to think that a heart, a living organ inside his chest, a mere tool for his blood circulation, had the ability to contemplate on wants or desires when the heart lacked a brain on its own. The mind, logic, those were the things that seek for purpose, for desire, for ends and, without a doubt, not an organ like the heart. What a preposterous notion.

Silence once again settled above their heads as the carriage continued to traverse the dirty road towards their destination – the Lockser Home.

…

“My dear, my dear! Come downstairs this instant!”

The Lockser patriarch, with his dull, blue hair sticking flatly to his head, descended the steps with lazy strides.

“What is with this commotion so early in the morning?” he riled, not sparing a glance at the woman jumping at the landing of the staircase, something she’d never done in decades.

“What’s lighting your bottoms, my dear?”

“Oh, my dear, Mr. Lockser,” she swooned beside her husband, feeling lightheaded with the news that came to her this morning, “you have no idea what fortune is about to befall our suffering family.”

“Our family is only suffering from your cry of woes, Mother.”

The Lockser sisters trailed behind their father with Eliana, Juvia and Wendy falling in line on the narrow staircase. The eldest, disapproving of Juvia’s attitude, reprimanded her with a loud slap on the shoulder.

“Don’t speak to mother in such a manner, Juvia. A proper lady only speaks politely.”

As Juvia opened her mouth and about to retort, Eli knew better to cut her off.

“What is this good fortune you speak of, Mother?”

“Oh, my loveliest daughter Eliana!” she exclaimed, caressing the eldest Lockser’s smooth skin of her cheeks with her palms. “Lord Fullbuster has sent word that they are heading to pay our family a visit!”

There was no other news that could send Mrs. Lockser into a high spirits other than even the slightest prospect of an offer of marriage from a wealthy gentleman.

“Oh, Eli!” Elmara flatted the strands of hair into Eliana’s clean and tight bun and pretended to brush imaginary dust on the Eldest’s shoulders, preparing the young lady for the destined meeting. “You must have captured the heart of the Lord’s son. Oh, what beauty!”

“But I haven’t met the Lord’s son, Mother.”

Juvia had this bitter feeling starting at the pit of her stomach. The Lord’s son? She would not have the chance to know the Lord’s son since she did not stay long enough to meet him. But somehow, she felt something she could not place a finger on. Like, something was amiss. Strangely, her mind travelled back to the night she met that debauch of an opportunist and her anger with his shamelessness made her blood boil. An ugly idea crossed her mind, but which she quickly dismissed. There was nothing noble about that lad except for his expensive coat he forced upon her which later, she realized, she badly needed. Catching herself thinking about him again, Juvia dragged herself back to reality – the bothersome reality of her mother preparing the eldest Lockser for a possible destined meeting. She couldn’t fully sort out her feelings about it; about the possibility that Juvia might have to lose her eldest sister in marriage and that saddened her. But to Eliana, she seemed enamored about the idea.

In a rush, the family’s help broke into the living room with an announcement.

“Lord Silver Fullbuster, Lady Mika Fullbuster and their son, Lord Grayden Fullbuster.”

Elmara did everything in her power not to squeal and embarrass herself and, in extension, her entire family. Fearing that she was in earshot of the guests, she restrained her voice as Mrs. Elmara Lockser spat out her orders, forcing her family to arrange some staged presentation to somehow make the Fullbusters believe that the Locksers still possessed the gentry they once held, to which her family fell uncomfortably into.

“Tell me why are we pretending to be something we are not again?”

“Just be quiet, young lady.” The reprimand was spoken through gritted teeth and an awfully pretentious smile. “Do not ruin this opportunity for your sister.”

But to this kind of larking around, Juvia saw an ally. She threw a knowing glance at her father. They shared a resigned smile and a shrug of the shoulders. Her father has long accepted that Mrs. Lockser’s priority was finding a suitable mate for their daughters. That if she failed to do so, Mrs. Lockser deemed herself an unfit mother. As the head of the family, however, Mr. Julian Lockser still had the last word.

The old wooden floors of the house creaked as it welcomed the nobility that paid the Lockser household a visit. It was Lord Silver Fullbuster himself, aided with a cane, who introduced himself first, his wife and then his son, Grayden Fullbuster, who was the one who had business to discuss with the family.

Juvia’s expression was one which seemed like she saw a ghost or thought that maybe her eyes deceived her. But her vision was clear as day. The shameless man who did all sort of unspeakable things to her back at the party now stood before her and her family, walking in with one of the most powerful and influential families in Magnolia. There was a bad feeling gripping at her, disliking the road where her thoughts led. She wanted to leave, to discreetly escape from the house. It was a tad too late as the moment his dark blue eyes locked with Juvia’s, Gray immediately recognized the woman who visited his mind quite frequently. She sternly met his gaze and he held her foreboding glare as long as he could.

Oblivious of the staring match his second daughter and the son of his guests engaged in, Mr. Lockser invited one and all to the parlor. Mrs. Lockser, who was pleased more than anyone, apologized for the current state of the room, only to give off false humility.

“We were not expecting your arrival, Your Lordship.” Elmara waved the help into the room and offered the guests her finest tea and bread. “Please, help yourself with the refreshments. I understand you have travelled far only to meet our humble family.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Lord Silver accepted, resting his cane against his chair’s armrest and made himself comfortable on his seat. The Lady, on the other hand, was still quite reserve; contrary to the friendliness her husband displayed. Lady Mika has yet to make her mind about the Locksers. So, as her husband enjoyed himself with the offered treats, Lady Mika stated their purpose.

“We apologize for coming without prior notice.” She started. “However, I believe my son has a matter to discuss with your daughter. One which cannot be simply delayed.”

All expectant blue eyes, varied in shade, landed on the aptly dressed young lord. He was initially surprised by the sudden attention. Then, he coughed into his fist and cleared his throat before speaking.

“Yes. Our purpose for coming here.” He said inaudibly, as if reminding himself of their goal. Finally composing himself, Gray met those expectant eyes without waver. “I would like to request a private audience with your daughter...”

Juvia prayed he would say the right name as the rest of the Locksers, save her father, held their breaths.

“Ms. Juvia.”

Juvia knew what everyone was thinking; she thought of it too. How could a man of his stature look pass the real beauty in the family? Was he blind? Has he lost hold of reality?

“My daughter Juvia?” Elmara repeated, releasing the breath that hitched in her throat and voicing the question the rest of the Lockser family had in mind.

“Yes.” Gray reiterated, meeting the doubtful eyes of Mrs. Lockser, and then turned to the woman who was the purpose of his long journey. “The second daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Lockser, if she would allow.”

Albeit still quite confused, Elmara turned to her second daughter, uncertain of what to say or how to react, exactly.

“Then, Mr. Fullbuster…” Both men of the Fullbusters answered, making Juvia realize her mistake. “I meant, Mr. Grayden, please come follow me.” Juvia excused herself from the room, expecting the lad she requested to follow her where they could discuss their matter more privately.

Juvia gathered the skirt of her dress, only to pull the hem above her ankle, so she could ascend the stairs more quickly, without sparing a glance behind her. If Mr. Grayden Fullbuster lost his way around the Lockser home, she’d feel much better. She traversed the narrow hallways to bring the man to the room she shared with her sisters, only to have him keep himself behind the threshold, reluctant to take another step.

“Would it really be alright if I…” the gentleman’s voice trailed off, his dusky eyes inspecting the small room, taking inventory of its minimal contents, until he met Juvia’s reticent stare. “If I enter your personal room?”

“I invited you, haven’t I?” If he wasn’t too confident or too sure of himself when he spoke to her parents earlier, Juvia would have assumed that the gentleman who refused to enter a woman’s room without permission was a nervous wreck. She watched him hesitantly cross the threshold into her room but maintained a distance between them.

“I shall not waste your time any longer and quickly state my business.” He took a deep breath, making it quite obvious that it was his first time to be in such a situation. “It is of common knowledge by now that I am to inherit my father’s estate. It is estimated at about–” Gray’s speech was abruptly cut when something textured hit his face and darkened his vision. He removed the clothing and realized it was the coat he lent the woman the night they met.

“I assume you are here for that. It must be expensive, after all.”

This time, when Gray met her eyes, he caught him staring at the strong-willed pools, same as those the night of the fateful meeting. There was no more of that modesty she pretended she had around her family. She was, once again, the defiant girl who left him in cold blood, out in the streets after the air left his body with a single punch. This was the girl who he came here for and he was unsure why he was quite relieved when Juvia behaved more like the peculiar woman at the party.

“Ah, yes. Thank you.” Confronting a woman like Juvia left his mind all befuddled that he, for the first time in his life, was at loss for words. Gray shook his head, finding the act ironically useful to clear his mind. “But my purpose for coming isn’t just about this coat. No.” He corrected himself. “My purpose for taking the journey isn’t about this coat at all.”

With a clearer mind, his intention swam into focus. Gray stepped forward, bridging the small distance between him and the woman, and settled the coat on the bed nearest to Juvia.

“I, Grayden Fullbuster, would like to ask your hand in–”

“No! Don’t speak of it!” Juvia’s blue eyes turned into angry oceans.

Gray had to take a step back, to keep his distance as her harsh tone made him feel unwelcomed. He beseeched her eyes, searching for a reason that could possibly explain how his attempt to ask her hand in marriage might offend the woman. All he found were her deep-seated ire to his audacity and a buried ache that she probably did not wish for him to see. Perhaps Juvia saw the confusion in Gray’s remorseful stare that she chose to hide and turn her back on him. The young lord felt a bitter taste stir in the pit of his stomach, burning its way up his mouth. How a gentleman could cause a lady such pain?

“I just wanted to take responsibility for that night.”

Juvia faced him again, her face twisted in an expression of pure arrogance. “I never asked you to.”

The declaration came as another surprise. This woman, the woman standing her ground so firmly, so determinedly, was no one like any other he had met before. Gray was growing impatient that despite himself, the young gentleman had raised his voice over the lady.

“We found each other under circumstances that must only transpire between married couples. I invaded your personal space. You look at me defiantly as against tradition. I put my hands on you without permission. Yet you refuse my proposal?”

There was no more pain but her eyes held such fierce fury that burned Gray’s skin. “I am not aware of how you perceive a man and a woman should behave around each other nor would I give it time in my day. Despite appearances, Mr. Fullbuster, I am a woman who will only marry for no other reason than love.”

Before taking the journey to the Lockser Household, Gray Fullbuster had practiced his speech, selecting the words with utmost consideration. Doubts frequented his mind about the second daughter accepting his offer. With the way she carried herself so differently from the women that came before her, he had expected Juvia to act and decide reasonably. To accept the gentleman’s offer of mutually beneficial partnership was, in all sense, very logical. Grayden Fullbuster was a man who had a lot to offer: fortune and prestige as among others. Any woman would be induced to accept his proposal of marrying into the noble clan of the Fullbusters. Hence, he could not seem to fathom how a sensible woman such as Juvia would even entertain the idea of love. But Gray Fullbuster ought to laugh at himself for expecting something so usual and ordinary from an extraordinary woman such as Juvia.

His silence stretched on, making the young lady uncomfortable. In her final act of rejection, she turned away from him again, and broke the silence with her own proposal.

“I understand your Lord and the Lady have traveled this far only for it to be unfruitful. I am not the only daughter in this household.” There was a slight twinge of ache in her chest that ran deep than the mere rejection of the marriage for the wrong reasons. “You might have noticed the beauty might eldest sister possesses.” Who could have not seen and appreciated the beaut that is Eliana Lockser? “Perhaps, you’d take fancy on her.”

If she was being honest to herself, a part of Juvia wanted him to reject the idea. A part of her wanted to believe that the proposal of marriage was Gray’s sincere offer. A part of her wished he’d noticed her own charm in spite of the presence of the most beautiful Lockser sister.

A part of her, however, believed that in a world where Eliana existed, Juvia could not.

“Perhaps.”

And that part of her, laughing at her own silliness to dream, had always been right.

…

Like the way they arrived, the Fullbusters travelled back home in silence. But despite the lack of exchange between the parents and the only son, the heir of Lord Silver Fullbuster, Gray’s head was far from at peace. Juvia’s words about seeking marriage for love had Gray question his own belief system.

Love? Wasn’t love a mere chemical reaction in the brain? A by-product of the need to procreate?

“Did she accept?”

Gray lifted his gaze to meet his mother’s inquiring look. “She imposed upon me a condition.” He answered.

“What condition?”

“That I make her fall in love with me.”

Love. An abstract thought which cannot be seen nor held. Something Gray had yet to understand the concept of. That which no one could ever fully explain, not by his books or any accounts to those who fell victim to it. How, then, could he make Juvia Lockser fall in love with him?

#gray x juvia #gruvia #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #gruvia au #historical gruvia #gruvia fanfiction #period gruvia #gruvia period au

[elejahfanfic]

Hello Love/2

Fanfiction

Part 2

AU story with tvd characters

Miguel Galindo x Elena Gilbert💖

Ft. Klaroline, Kennett

It's a love story -no vampires. Human.

Featuring a song by David Bisbal_Me enamore de ti

Also, Yemaya is played by Zoe Saldana.

♡□

So much is going on in this ch, there is so many characters - I hope it still has a coherent flow - 😅

Thanks for reading. 😀😘

Tag_@miguelsbrat

♤♡◇♧

Niklaus, or better known as Klaus to his family and friends, just taken a cab to take him to the Mikaelson residence.

He still wasn't sure if he made the right decision to return home after so many years abroad, where he had built a very good reputation and established himself as a prominent young architect making his firm The Wolf Group, as they called themselves, one of the very best. He left it to be run by his partner, Marcel Gerard.

It was one morning after he spoke to Miguel that he made the abrupt decision to take a sabatical year and spend time with the family. Actually, to be precise, with his siblings, as his relationship with his parents was not a good one.

***

Meanwhile

In Rebekah's office, she was looking at the photographs that were to go in the next issue.

"Get me Damon" she said to her assistant Vicki.

"Anything else?" Vicki asked.

"No. I'll be working till late, so you can go. Thanks" Rebekah said.

The eldest of them was Finn, who tragically died in a car crash, at the age 20. Niklaus was their second child. He was three years old when they adopted Miguel.

Rebekah chose to work hard to prove to her father that she can get the fashion magazine up and running and make a huge success of it when she took over. So, at work she was known as the shrew, some of her co-workers would refer to her as a blood-sucker at times. The Mikaelson family was regarded as the most ambitious when business was concerned. Their parents taught their children to be excellent, to strive to excel. To be the best. And they made them proud.

After, Kol, Rebekah and finally Henrik followed.

Miguel fell in love and chose to go to live in San Diego to work after he married. And as his wife died, instead of returning to New York, he chose to go to Mexico City. As for Klaus, after finishing his studies decided to travel the world, finally settling in Europe starting to work as an architect in a small firm.

The Mikaelsons were a big family.

But lately, work was all she had on her mind.

Damon got to her office in a little while, and as he entered the first thing she said was-

"We are professionals and personal stuff should never affect the work-still- I am going to say this, because Elena is my friend and I love her dearly - you're an asshole! If you weren't so damned good at what you do I would kick you to the curb."

"That's not bad. I kind of thought you would dagger me!" Damon said.

"Let's get to work. Look at those", she now showed what she didn't like about those photos and asked for a new photo session with the next month's cover person.

***

Elsewhere

Bonnie and Caroline met Elena for some good old retail therapy. The best remedy when trying to kinda mend a broken heart. A change in style, hair was Caroline's suggestion. Also, they all had already received an electronic invitation to the Mikaelson cocktail night. And they need great dresses for the occasion.

Elena kept quiet about her unusual meeting in the cafe.

*

In the Upper East Side, Miguel met his son at his new school. Cris as he and all his family and friends called him didn't want to go to a private school, and so Miguel enrolled him in the public school recommended by Rebekah.

Cristobal, looked a lot like his mother, very savvy, goodhearted teenager, who knew exactly what he wanted in his life. He was very close his father. The death of Emily, cut them both and glued them even more together. Sometimes Cristobal took more care of his father, than the other way around. Mostly because Miguel was very dedicated to his work.

There were certain things he still needed to do regarding the transfer, and he now dealt with all that.

"There something different about you dad" he said to him when they got out of the school.

"In what way?" Miguel looked surprised at his son.

"I don't know.  But- different! You have a happy face."

"I have a happy face?"

"Yes. Usually it's - just serious." Cristobal said as he opened the car door.

Miguel looked at the watch and he had promised their housekeeper Senora Vega that they would be on time for the evening dinner. "Come on, we are late."

And there was a certain truth, he felt different. The woman Elena that he had met in the cafe was not getting out of his head. He had not felt a tingle in his heart for a woman for a very long time.

***

Greenich Village

Elena returned home later that evening and looked at the dress she chose for the cocktail party. Then at her new hairstyle, running her hands through them, inhaling deeply.

"Stop it!" she said to herself in the mirror, "stop thinking about him. Don't need anyone right now. Good-he looked so good in the three-piece suit- too good. "I am going crazy- what's wrong with me?!"

This man was not even her type. She prefered guys in jeans, with a badboy vibe about them. 'Mike' was completely the opposite. What was happening to her. Rebound thoughts. Totally crazy. Sliding the dress safely into the small closet, she went to the living room and put one of her mix playlists on.

Taking her laptop, she made hetself comfortable on the sofa. It was time to do some work. Lena's Cookie website needed updating. Browsing through the photos of her recent cookie creations made her stumble on a few she had done for her friend Yemaya's birthday. Though she was from Brasil, she was very much into mexican art and so she had requested mexican sugar cookies for her birthday fiesta.

Thinking of 'Mike', she looked up a recipe from her notes.

Me enamoré de ti, jamás lo imaginaba

Que algun día yo, de amor iba a vivir

***

A couple of blocks away

"Move in with me" he blurted out inbetween kisses and half way to bed disregarding supper.

"Enough of work." Bonnie said closing Kol's laptop nestling comfortably on his lap, pulling him into a kiss.

Kol finished writing the draft of his last research paper.  Bonnie sneaked up on at him with a trey of food and wine.

"Who is joking? Move in with me. I'm serious. I want you here - all the time. It's crazy paying for two apartments, sleeping ovet here- there."

"Ok," Bonnie said,"yeah, let's be practical"

"This is not about being practical," Kol drew his fingers up her cheeks, looking at her dreamily, "I really want you here with me all the time."

"When you look at me that way, I could never say no."

"You drive me crazy" Kol smiled, "At times I can't believe you are real - and you are with me"

"Shut up and kiss me" Bonnie pressed her forfinger on his lips.

She was a person so very open hearted, giving and so loving. He met her accidently, so he thought, as he waited for Rebekah to meet him for lunch at the bar. He didn't know that the Rebekah and the others set Bonnie and he up on a blind date. He complained to Rebekah that he had no luck in the love department and that he had enough of dates that led to nowhere.

He kissed her, and he took that as a 'yes'.

***

Stefan met his fellow journalist Yemaya for a last minute check before he gave in his article for print.

"Stop joking"

"Want to grab a drink?" he asked casually.

"Just one!" she stressed out, "Last night I had one too many"

"Wow- in the middle of the week ?!"he teased her as he knew her rule not to drink during the week.

"We took Elena out to kick her shoes off. She was really down."

"I heard," Stefan said, "I cannot make excuses for my brother, he is not bad-but he makes hell of mistakes."

"All the time!" Yemaya added.

"Yeah, but I am not really into the Damon- Elena talk. Actually, I need a date for a cocktail party?!"

"You got invited too?!" Yemaya was surprised.

"Maybe it was some mistake, but it came from Mikael's official e-mail!" Stefan said.

"Yes. I would like to be your date!" Yemaya accepted happily.

"Good!"- Stefan smiled, and  now waited for her to finish off what she was doing.

 ***

Days went by in a flash, and everyone had mostly work on their mind. Well, not everyone. Elena had something else on her mind, or rather someone else.

The Mikaelson cocktail party started to be the thing everyone started to talk about.

Esther and Rebekah were deeply immersed in the event. Everything had to be perfect.

Esther had invited all her family for a family brunch the day before.

Kol, Miguel and Cristobal arrived an hour before the meal. Cristobal immediately went with Henrik, who was two years older than him and that was a bit strange as he was in actual fact his uncle.

"What is not weird with this family" Cristobal said looking at Henrik wide-eyed.

"I kind of have to get to know Klaus and Miguel- they look too serious" Henrik said.

"Dad can be fun-he just doesn't like to show it much!" Cristobal explained. "Show me the last vynils you’ve bought."

"Come on" Henrik said gesturing to follow him to his room.

*

Rebekah walked in the living room all chirpy, "Gossiped much?!"

"No. Why would you think so?" Klaus said. "Then you have changed- you always had something smart to say about me"

"I did hear already comments about what a dragon you are at work, " Klaus teased, "it's only fashion, but I guess it has to be run with military precision. Father must be very proud!"

"There-you see" Rebekah looked at Miguel, who wanted to stay out of it.

"I hear you have new friends," Klaus said,"kicked the old snobby ones to the curb, I hear"

"I am sick of her snoby friends- yes-I have managed to make proper friends, and if you behave, maybe I will introduce them to you!" Rebekah shot back at her brother tapping him on the shoulder.

Esther walked into the Salon and there was gladness in her heart. All her children were there, and that was a rare occasion in the last years.

Her husband now joined them and they sat down for a very different brunch they all were used to. It was warm, chatty and quite lively.

Esther was counting her blessings, though her heart was not entirely at ease.

***

The next day, the pre-cocktail buzz was already in full flow with both the hosts as well as their invites.

Caroline talked to Elena over the phone about the cocktail party and Klaus.

"He looks really good," Caroline said, "you should check his site- he has done some amazing stuff."

"Caroline, you are telling me that I get into things head over heals like instantly. Rebekah is great, but he is a Mikaelson. Do you really want to get involved with one of them?"

"Elena, I know what you're thinking. Too close to home. Could mess up a great friendship if things go bad"

"Not thinking anything. Ok. I got to go. See you later"

"I will pick you up," Caroline said, "oh, I went back and changed the dress. I am wearing the blue dress - right- Jess is hear to do my hair. I will see you soon."

"Ok." Elena put the phone down.

Elena went to do her hair and make up herself. She was good in anything creative. She decided to wave it a bit and pin one side. She was going for a more natural look, and yet looking glam.

Simplicity has always been her motto. And yet, everything she did never looked simple. From her range of cookies to her relationships. 

The door bell went and Elena was surprised to see Yemaya at the door. She had already been ready and dressed.

"Hey- Sorry. I just had to come" the woman stormed in.

Elena could see that her friend was all flustered. Something major must have happened for her to be coming and not calling.

Elena now waited to hear her spill the beans.

"Ok -I am going to say it- huh- I slept with Stefan. We went for a drink and it was just one drink -and we talked and he drove me home and then we kissed and then we kissed some more and- you know the rest."

Elena didn't understand what was so bad about it. He and Yemaya were work collegues. And that is exactly now what was Yemaya's concern.

"I said I would never get involved with someone I work with."

"Shall I guess what you told him in the morning?! Exactly that?! Right?"

Yemaya nodded. 

***

In the Mikaelson Mansion, Esther Mikaelson was going through the list with her personal party organizer for the afternoon cocktail party the family was hosting for an exlusive charity event for the hospital Miguel and Kol worked for. Just one look from her said volumes when she was displeased with something. When her favourite sister died in the car crash, everyone thought that she would retreat and never come back, as she did go away for a year to grieve and be by herself. The grief changed something in her, she became a recluse, but adopting Miguel, brought her back to life. As he now walked out into the garden, greeting her with a small kiss on the cheek.

"How are you, querida madre?"

"Very well - even better now that you and Cristobal are here." Esther replied.

"This looks beautiful. Thank you for doing this."

"Darling, it is nothing. It's my pleasure. Where is Cristobal?"

"With Henrik" Miguel said and now greeted Kol and Bonnie.

Kol then went on to introduce Bonnie to Klaus and Miguel. Rebekah quickly snatched Bonnie away from the men.

"So, I'm hearing wedding bells from the distance!" Klaus teased Kol.

"Unlike you, I actually want one woman for myself!" Kol threw back at him.

"You haven't changed at all!" Klaus said. "I will leave you two to discuss whatever medical thing you will discuss"

"Bonnie" Miguel started, " she seems to be lovely!"

"What about you? Are you never going to find someone again?” Kol asked his brother.

"I don't know," Miguel said, "maybe"

"What does that mean? Have you met somebody?" Kol continued with the quizzing. "Dr Ruben has set her eyes on you. She's been asking me if you were dating anyone?"

"Please don't play the matchmaker." Miguel warned.

"Don't worry -"

Cris and Henrik came up to them and Kol now turned to them, quizzing them about the band they were forming.

The guest started arriving and Cris now observed how Esther and Mikael, together with Rebekah glided among the guests and how masterfully they played the hosts.

Damon and Stefan arrived together. Krystal made a solo appearance. 

Elena, Yemaya and Caroline entered like a grand trio.

Rebekah was there like a shot and greeted her friends.

"Who invited Krystal?" Caroline shot at Rebekah straight out seeing the woman mingling with some of the guests.

"Father's office - she is the best model and it's about business -if you thought that this was a family thing only, then you are mistaken -come on -let me introduce you to Miguel and Klaus."

Elena's heart dropped when she heard the name, but when she actually saw that it was the man she had met in the cafe, her heart started beating uncontrollably. She tried to keep her composure as Rebekah officially now introduced them.

"Hello" Miguel said, curling a smile at the brunette.

"Hello" Elena muttered and smiled back at him, “I thought your name is Mike?!”

"Uhm - it's Miguel - when we were kids Rebekah would call me Mikey - uhm - I don’t know why I introduced myself using my childhood nickname - just felt like - I suppose being back in New York”

"Oh, you've met?" Rebekah said slightly wide-eyed.

"Yes- a few days ago" Miguel said, his eyes still fixed on Elena.

Se pinta de colores toda mi alma

Con esa dulce luz de tu mirada

Y al verte sonreír, vuelvo a tener fe

Elena nodded, confirming it was so, looking at her friend and then at the suave looking cardiologist.

The waitress with champagne cocktails approached them and Miguel now took the glasses and offered one to her.

"Strawberry Bellini! I think you will like it." Miguel said to the brunette.

"Thank you!" Elena took the glass. She was at ease now. His charm just enveloped her and she didn't care anymore that she had seen Damon and Krystal at the party.

Not standing far from them, Caroline already chatted with Klaus as if they knew eachother forever. He offered her a Mimosa cocktail. 

"You are looking in the direction of that brunette like she had done something to you so disgracefully" Klaus commented since Caroline looked at Krystal off and on.

_ to be continued

#miguel galindo #elena gilbert #fanfiction #klaroline #kennett #rebekah mikaelson #alternate pairing #alterntive universe #the originals imagine #the originals fanfiction #crossover au #crossover fanfiction

[favekdramas]

Something in the Rain

Something in the Rain is 100% living up to the hype. I just finished episodes 1-4 on Netflix, and I was blown away.

I love that the drama is so light but also deals with very real, very serious problems women face: being threatened for rejecting a man, workplace sexism, pressure to get married (even more so in Korea), to name a few. And despite being relatively slow-paced, every scene feels important and we get a real glimpse into the characters’ lives. I like that the director is allowing us to slow down and see the little parts of their lives, not just the major plot-points.

But while we deal with those heavier themes, the romance is so lovely. I love the development from friends to lovers, and it didn’t feel rushed even tho it happened so quickly. Episode 3 had so much tension, I was getting tingles all over my body, and that’s just from them wanting to hold hands! Kdramas really get physical intimacy right sometimes. And her holding his hand! The hiccups! AMAZING.

Beyond the (so far) healthy relationship, I am totally enamored by the cinematography and the ost. I’m surprised how pretty this drama is despite mostly being set in the office. And the ost gives me Whisper of the Heart vibes, so that makes me happy. (If anyone knows the person in charge of the ost, let me know!)

Even though I’m only 4 episodes in, I can tell this drama is a real keeper. I’m worried what will happen with the ex, but so far our main couple have good communication and are looking out for each other, so fingers crossed the major conflict isn’t too...major.

#something in the rain #pretty noona who buys me food #kdrama #kdramanetwork #thank you kdrama gods for ending my dryspell #it's been so long since I've felt inspired to review a drama #and this is just the first 4 eps!

[kondo-hijikata]

Value Me, please! 😍

Pairing: Established Kondo/HijikataRating: TSummary:You’ve heard of The Romance of the Three Kingdoms, now get ready for the start of something better… (aka that one time Toshi gets drunk and somewhat romantic confessions happen) [AO3]

.*The Romance of Isami and Toshi*.

The night had gone perfectly–beautifully. Flawlessly, even…until Kondo used the words Shieikan and five years later in the same sentence.

Then it was disbelief, followed by exasperation, ire, and outrage.

Kondo saw each emotion blaze over Hijikata’s face within a span of seconds and it took everything he had to stop the grin begging to pull across his lips. It was rude to make fun of someone else’s agitation, after all, and especially under these circumstances.

“No!! No, no, no, no!!” Hijikata barked, his slurred voice raising with each repetition and eyes snapping shut as he shook his head with furious intent. A wobbly lurch skewed his shoulders, his left hand lifting with the (now thankfully empty) sake cup and his right hand slapping on the tatami while he leaned in to intrude on Kondo’s space.

Or, perhaps, Hijikata thought it would be an intrusion–something aggressive that would help get his point right across. Kondo had other feelings about such proximity and they were far from threatening…but he decided to let this superbly inebriated individual beside him run his mouth just a bit longer.

Long lashes parted to once more reveal glassed-over eyes, shining like gemstones in the warmth of golden candlelight. “Shieikan, my ass. I’m sayin’, that just ain’t gonna do, Kat-chan!!”

Finally allowing himself the luxury of huffing a soft laugh, Kondo reached across the way; fortune had it that Hijikata was sufficiently distracted by his desire to rail into him and thus, offered no protest when the cup was carefully taken from his hand. “Toshi, shh, you’re getting loud…”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kondo remained ever-conscious of their surroundings. Hijikata and he were safe in his room at the dojo, but they were also only two out of many residents here–and those other residents were more often interested in the affairs of others than not. It would be no surprise to find the likes of Sano and Shinpachi…perhaps even Gen-sen and especially Souji…all cramped in the hallway with their ears pressed to the wall. Finding the thought more amusing than irritating, Kondo exhaled a choppy breath.

“Loud? I’m loud?” By now, Hijikata’s lips parted and his brows raised, taking on a purposeful dumb expression that was obviously out of mockery.

“Your face may freeze like that, you know.”

“Well…Kondo-sensei…” Unaffected by the prior teasing jibe, Hijikata’s tone lowered and he began shaking his head, with lesser enthusiasm this time.

“Oh, it’s sensei now, huh?” Kondo chuckled and at last surrendered all the way, letting the corners of his lips pull out to his cheeks and allowing himself the smile he’d so badly wanted for too long by this point. “Guess I really am in trouble.”

“Maybe if you…” A pointer finger thrust unto Kondo’s chest, “listened to me, then I wouldn’t have t’–” Hijikata hiccuped. “–to yell.”

“Toshi!” Kondo protested gently, “I am listening. I have been!”

“Yeah, yeah.” The hand that had jabbed became the hand that dismissively waved, and Hijikata turned back in annoyance. Idly, he looked at his empty palm and perhaps wondered where his cup had wandered off to.

Kondo’s lashes fell for a moment and he breathed out through his nose. Truth be told, he was paying attention, but it hadn’t come without some struggling–a problem that could be directly attributable to the shade of rose that dusted its way clear across Hijikata’s face. The blush managed to soften his elegant features even further, and against the kiss of flickering light, there was little more Kondo could think of than how beautiful he looked.

That wasn’t a new revelation in the slightest; Hijikata carried with him the effortless embellishment of beauty that seemed to radiate from him like an aura at all times. But something about tonight…well, it was different–amplified. Maybe it was because after years of speculation, Kondo had at last become acquainted with the taste of Hijikata’s lips on his, and the way the pleasantness of his scent could distract him in a heartbeat, and what it felt like to have him in his arms…

It was on that thought when Kondo slipped a hand behind Hijikata, drawing him close so they fit together, sitting side by side against the wall. The back of Toshi’s head pressed to his shoulder as if it were already second nature, and Kondo smiled to himself when Hijikata leaned further to him, like he was settling in.

Despite how it might have looked, he could still detect the presence of some tension remaining. A more devious man may have allowed it to work out on its own–and it probably would have–but as for Kondo…

“I was listening,” he insisted again. The arm he’d wrapped around had left his hand against Hijikata’s abdomen and he tapped his fingers there. “I’ll listen to you talk all night if you want, in fact.”

“Don’t go patronizin’ me.” It was an airy, pissed off reply–how typical. “Forget it.”

“I’m not patronizing you. Look, I can even tell you why you’re mad at me. It’s because I–”

“Who’s mad!” Hijikata interjected, clearly angry.

“Oh, Toshi,” Kondo laughed without meaning to. He’d never find humor in someone else’s anger, but Hijikata was intoxicated and fuming uselessly over the order of the world once more. It was true that Kondo had transcended the constraint of classism by adoption, but facts were facts; he was still a farmer at heart, just like Hijikata. They were born of the land and that’s how they were fated to live.

Naturally, he’d intended to speak further, but was interrupted yet again when Hijikata snapped his face toward him.

“See? You’re laughin’!”

“It’s not–”

“Kat-chan, we absolutely cannot stop here at this, this damn rundown dojo. We gotta…” Hijikata closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, “keep on runnin’.”

Ah, of course. A little dreaming never hurt anyone and it was this kind of talk that had formed the bond between them to begin with. With a nod, Kondo supplied, “You’re right. We can’t stop until I’m a general.” And then, he cheerfully added, “Like Kanko, yeah?!”

“No.” Seriousness painted Hijikata’s tone when his lashes parted again and as he stared Kondo directly in the eye, he nearly sounded sober. “For the last time, you’re not hearing me. A general ain’t enough.”

Kondo blinked and the grin he wore quickly fell from his face.

“You better listen up and listen good.” The flirtatiousness, the good vibes of the evening, the enamor that had been openly displayed by Hijikata’s expression since they started drinking…it all disappeared into thin air with that last statement. “I won’t rest until I make you a daimyo.”

Staring perplexed at Hijikata, Kondo remained quiet until he slowly repeated, “…A daimyo.”

Hijikata turned his face forward again and stared out across the room. “I hated medicine peddlin’ but medicine peddlin’ was something that I could at least do. And I could do it well. Damn well, even.” A pause. “Still, I gave that up and moved in here.”

Kondo felt Hijikata stiffen against him, heard his voice grow even quieter. “Because Kat-chan gave me a place to belong…because Kat-chan is…” His tongue slipped out to wet his lips. “Because I wanna…” His chin fell in a single nod then when he finally decided on his words. “We gotta keep going forward together.”

And then, beneath his breath–and probably not even intending to say it aloud at all–Hijikata added, “I bet my entire life on you.”

Silence filled the air then and Kondo’s chest stilled.

He was no expert, hadn’t a damn clue about any of this in fact, but knew that what he’d just heard…it wasn’t typical.

Memories of his birth mother were barely on the cusp of Kondo’s reach, as she’d died when he was so young, but he remained certain of his conclusion. Because it had been from his biological father whom he’d learned loyalty and responsibility. And when he was adopted into the Kondo family and could say he had the privilege of having a mother again, things were really no different at all… Loyalty and responsibility were still at the forefront, at least for him. Shusai would pick up strays to add to the dojo roster and sometimes cavort with geisha, and his wife, Fude, would nag about it all.

Married but separate… Living together but also living alone. Even his brothers had been wedded off and had children of their own. They both seemed happy when they all met up last time, but how they spoke of their lives suggested that other things had seeped into the cracks.

“Eh, she just badgers me all the time…”

“The kids are troublesome, y’know…”

It seemed the whole world was pairing up and pairing off, all to cater to the demands of society. And Kondo knew Shusai had such expectations of him after taking him into his family, yet…

Out of all the relationships Kondo bore witness to, he’d never heard anyone say the words that had left Hijikata’s mouth just now–never had an inkling that any of those couples might share in something that deep.

He came to this understanding, despite his own reality. He and Hijikata had both had feelings for each other for so long, but the physical component had been a relatively new development. It’d been ages of pining before his hands had the liberty of roaming beneath Hijikata’s yukata and vice versa, before he could come to know Hijikata’s body as well as he knew his mind.

But maybe that’s why Kondo had realized that what he’d heard meant something significant–because their relationship was born of fondness and not necessity.

Fondness.

It was rumored that the foreigners ruining this great country said strange things to each other–deeply embarrassing things like, “I love you” and other wild professions of affection that freely left the tongue.

Kondo couldn’t imagine it. But he considered now that if there was a proxy for those words…if there was anything that could possibly take their place, “I bet my entire life on you” was as good a candidate as anything.

And if foreigners felt anything like the way Kondo felt now, well… He wanted nothing in common with them, but perhaps there was a sliver of merit to some of their strange customs.

Maybe his birth parents and adoptive parents, maybe his brothers and their wives had their own special ways of showing affection to one another that could produce the same feelings. But he resolved that this remained different, rare.

And that warranted a deserving reply.

“Toshi,” Kondo finally said and reached forward with his free hand to cover Hijikata’s, and then entwined their fingers. “I’ll run with you. All the way.” Hijikata shifted slightly but Kondo kept speaking, cocking his face so he could whisper in his ear. “All the way…right to the top. Right to the stars.”

Hijikata’s digits folded inward then, and he closed his eyes with a nod. His lips twitched into a tiny satisfied smile as his spine relaxed, sinking a little lower until he could rest against Kondo’s shoulder again.

“We’ll be more samurai than anyone born in the samurai class.”

“…More samurai than samurai?”

“Aa. That’s gonna be us, Toshi.”

“The hell does that even mean?”

“I’ll show you.”

“Heh. Guess you finally decided to open them ears, Kat-chan,” Hijikata mumbled, “It’s about time. But I do have another thing to say, since I got your attention.”

“Mm?” Kondo stroked his thumb along Hijikata’s. “What’s that?”

“I am drunk as hell right now.”

Kondo smiled so hard his eyes closed and he laughed softly again, this time without guilt. “Among so many other things, Toshi-san.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Hijikata’s head. “Among so many other things…”

For a long while after, they stayed like this in quietude. And it was during that time of silence after Hijikata dozed off in his arms when Kondo decided the story of the rest of his life.

When he was done, The Romance of the Three Kingdoms would have nothing on The Romance of Isami and Toshi. His hand held Hijikata’s a little tighter.

That was a promise.

And a threat.

#konhiji #hakuouki #writing on plaid paper #ayo i fucking love them bye #sabinasanfanfic #asks #toshisami

[sneaky-mermaid-renegade]

Reflect

  Heres a story I wrote. Its my first one so prepare to cringe, i guess. But at the same time, plz enjoy!

 Mirrors. Little plates of glass meant to show reflections. They are said that your reflection in a mirror is actually your soul. You dont believe that though. In fact you always believed the opposite: that mirrors dont always show whats really there! Although really you've never proven it, but no one has proved the soul thing either, so you think your fine

   Growing up, you were lucky enough that you never really had to deal with your eisoptrophobia due to a lack of mirrors in your house. Although that may change very soon. Your father has recently come into a large sum of money. He intends to use it to buy a new house, so you and him can move out of your small, beat up, apartment. You haven't seen the new house yet, but your father says its “Victorian”. You dont know what that means exactly, but it sounds old. “Are you okay sweetie?” your dad asks, bringing you out of your thoughts. “yeah, Im good.” you answer. You stare outside the window of the car, watching the trees blur by. “Are we almost there?” you ask absentmindedly. “As a matter a fact its right there!” your dad said enthusiastically. He pointed ahead to a big house off in the distance. It looked like a haunted mansion, except maybe a little smaller than a mansion. But not by a lot. 

   The car slows to a stop in your new driveway. You get out and start to haul some boxes inside. “You go on ahead and explore the house!” your father calls from behind the rest of the boxes, “I think ill probably be a while!”. You go up the stairs, and try to grasp the door knob from behind the boxes your carrying. You eventually grab the doorknob and open the door. Its very dusty inside, and there are spider webs everywhere. You think maybe it will look better after a good dusting. You search room after room to find one to claim. As you walk down a hallway lined with doors you realize one one side there is a big gap, as if there is supposed to be a door there. You set down your boxes and feel along the wallpaper for grooves of some sort. There isn't any, or to your knowledge anyway. Your not ruling out secret doors until you ask your dad about it. You turn your attention across the way to the door on the apposing side of the gap. Peeking in you see that, compared to the rest of the house, this room is in pretty good shape. You pick your boxes up and move them in your new bedroom!

                                       *                    *                     *

   You start to move some chairs inside. The moving van had just shown up a couple of minutes ago, so you and your dad are unpacking your stuff. You set the last chair down with a huff, and decide to go get your posters from the moving van. You climb in it, and search around, until you finally find it under some old picture frames. You bring it into your room and start hanging them up. The first one you take out is a picture of a lion sitting on a rock. You like lions. Mostly because of your zodiac being a Leo.                                                          

    You are about to grab another poster when you hear the loud sounds of a hammer outside your door. Your dad is hammering up an antique looking mirror on space across from you that was missing a door. “Oh, hello dear.” he says looking up. “what are you doing?” you ask confused. Your father puts his hammer down and steps to the side, revealing the mirror. It looked antique, and not very pretty. “I was hanging up this mirror here. I thought this little empty spot would be great for it!” You look at the nails holding up the weathered mirror. If they were holding the weight of the mirror without much effort, then that must mean there are support beams there. So much for a secret door. taking a step forward you peer into the mirrors glossy surface. For such an old mirror the glass was surprisingly clear, showing every detail of your face with crisp reflection. It made you uneasy. You turn towards your dad “Where did you get this mirror? I've never saw anything like this before.” Your dad grinned sheepishly. “Well technically its been locked up in the attic before you were born, your mother never liked it so i kinda just put it in the attic. I thought that since we moved it was time to put this thing back out into the open.”

   He picks up his hammer and leaves, leaving you alone with the mirror. You look into the mirror one last time before you turn to go into your room. Out of the corner of your eye you see something flash. You turn back around to see your reflection in the mirror, except somethings off. You almost look like . . . your glowing? You shudder and go back to your room to unpack. you never did like mirrors, and this one seemed very off.

   It was a couple days after you and your dad fully moved in. You lie awake in your bed staring at the ceiling. Finally you roll over and check your clock. It was 11:00 a.m. You decide you’ve been in bed for far too long, and climb out to eat some lunch. You walk into the kitchen and start making a sandwich. Your dad was watching some TV in his room. You feel like this day will be extremely uneventful.

   A knock on the door pulls you out of your thoughts. You open it up to see a kid about your age at the door. You couldn't tell if they were a boy or a girl. Due to the fact that they had short hair and a boyish build, but delicate hands and a girls figure. You decided it would be rude to ask. “hello!” you greeted cheerfully. “Hi.” they said. “I heard you were new to the block, and came to meet you.” They were giving you bad vibes, but you didn't want to be rude to the first neighbor you met so you let them in. “Um, here, this way. ill give you a tour!” you told them. You led them to the hallway that held your room. You deliberately looked to the opposite side if the mirror across the hall. It still gives you the creeps after all these days. You saw your guest peering looking in the direction of the mirror, enamored by their reflection. You briefly glance their way, shielding the mirror with your hand as you led their into your room. You were probably just imagining it but they almost looked relieved when you deliberately hid from the mirror.

   They peer around your room, carefully taking in the details. “You must really like lions.” they said peering around. You dont know how they figured that out. You have one lion poster, and two lion plushies, but you dont think that conveys how much you like lions. Either way you really wanted to make a good first impression on your new neighbor, so you bit your tongue and answered yes. “So I saw you shielding your eyes from that mirror. You dont like it?” You shifted uncomfortably. “I guess you could say i have a bad fear of mirrors.” You said awkwardly. “You know I know a legend about a Special mirror. Would you like to hear it?” You glanced at your shut door, imagining the glowing mirror outside. “Why, not?” You answer. “Stories are a good way to pass the time.”

   “Well.” she began. “A long time ago, there was a young women who was in love with her own reflection. She would sit in front of her mirrors for hours, sometimes even days, only getting up when she was hungry or thirsty. So it was a huge surprise when she took her eyes off her reflection, and began to watch a young man instead. She gave chase and they got married. But to the young mans dismay, her fling was short lived and she went back to her own reflection. The young man was furious and heartbroken. He wandered out of the town and into the woods to clear his head. The longer the women sat at her mirror, the deeper the man went into the woods. Until one day, the man stumbled upon an old lady in the forest. 

   She sat on the steps of her caravan, which was littered with random objects. She stood up and asked “What troubles you?” The man, frightened by this stranger, replied “Nothing troubles me, I am merely out for a stroll.” The lady only smiled and said “People can only find this place if they have a problem that troubles them. So tell me, what troubles you so?” The man sat down and sighed. “My wife no longer loves me, and instead prefers her own reflection than my company” The lady stood up from here caravan steps and brought down a mirror. She held it out to the man and said “Give this to her, it will reveal what she looks like on the inside. If she is still in love with herself after 3 days then, it will trap her in the mirror for an eternity” So the man took the mirror home to his wife and gave it to her, But she still stood in front of it for hours. “Surely my wife doesn't have a soul so pure she is still in love with herself” he thought to himself. So one the third day he slowly crept into the room and opened the door. She was in front of the mirror, but instead of her reflection, a women with similar features to her stood in the mirror. The mirror women had horns on her head and grey skin. But no matter how inhuman she looked the women could not take her eyes of of her. Suddenly the clock chimed. It was the end of the third day. The man watched helplessly as his wife was sucked into the mirror.

   The man gently touched the mirror in disbelief, but pulled back when he felt a sharp pain on his finger tips. When he looked back at the mirror there stood his wife. from that day on instead of his reflection, all he saw was his wife. She yelled at him whenever he saw him, begging him to get her out. The man grew bitter towards his wife, and by extension, mirrors. Eventually he gave in and went to find the caravan again. When he came upon it he asked the lady if there was any way to free his wife from the mirror. The women refused at first but after relentless begging the lady agreed to help. “take this powder and throw it at the mirror when you see her. She will emerge from the mirror as a child, but only for a century. During that century she will have to travel in search of someone with the opposite problem she has. Then she shall pass the curse to them. If she fails then she shall return to the mirror” So the man went home explained it to his wife and poured the powder on the mirror. The women immediately left for her journey, and was never seen again by the man, who eventually remarried. They says she wanders the earth to this day, looking for someone who hates mirrors as much as she had loved them”

   They finished their story, and i realized she had slowly pushed me into the hallway. I could see the glowing of my own reflection from the mirror behind me. Looking back at them I realized they had a sinister look on their face. “That young lady was me. I will be tied to this mirror no longer!” She shoved me into the mirror. A sharp pain shot through my back, so blindingly painful that I couldn't feel anything. I watched around me fade into black, the last thing I saw was their face as it lit up like Christmas lights that had broken through their plastic casing.

You woke up in a dark room. Dust flitted about, somehow giving off a dim glow, like a firefly. You cant remember anything. You dont remember your name, or your likes or even where you used to live. You look around and find a square of light penetrating the darkness. Its a view old looking hallway, lined with doors. In front of the mirror stands a boy, about your age. You bang on the glass, hoping to get his attention. He seems to stare right through you, almost as if he cant . . .see . . .you. ‘Oh no’ you think, backing away from the mirror. You'll be trapped here, forever! The boy in the hallway puts his hand on the glass before yanking it back, surprise tainting his face. He looks back to the mirror before scrambling away from it, in shock. He wont look at it again. He saw you. “Hey, Leo, the lion!” a girl sounding voice calls affectionately from down the hall. “help me unpack will you!”. “Leo” wanders away towards the voice, and you start to feel a little better about your situation. Although something about what the girl said is tugging at the back of your mind.

You like lions . . .

#crystal writes #first short story hope you like it

[junker-town]

‘Bachelorette’ Episode 9: Bryan doesn’t do so well with Rachel’s family, Peter drops a bombshell, Eric falls in love

The guys meet Rachel’s family in Dallas, and then we get half of the Sex Dates in Spain.

Sports Bachelor Nation, HELLO! Tonight is a very special episode of this reality show because it is Fantasy Suite dates, also known as The Night of Potential Banging. Which is to say, for those of you who don’t know the ins and outs of this franchise as well as I do (*starts weeping of jealousy*): Rachel can have sex with the three remaining men on these dates if both parties so desire. Which both parties usually do, because all they’ve been able to do for two months is make out like high schoolers while cameras roll. Even though in two weeks she’ll end up engaged to one of these jabronis. It’s high time they did the deed, folks.

I love these dates mostly for the mornings after, when producers film contestants in their pajamas. On her Fantasy Suite date with Nick, Rachel wore a fleece onesie that had penguins on it while Nick made her breakfast. Oftentimes the producers make the contestants have breakfast in bed (at least I imagine this is forced, because I don’t know who actually wants to have breakfast in bed after you’ve spent the night having sex in it, but hey, to each her own) and the small talk between two people who’ve just banged and are being filmed by a lot of people is just delightful to watch.

So let’s do it!

HMMM, WAIT, CURVEBALL SITUATION: THEY MEET RACHEL’S FAMILY?

OK, I’m a little annoyed, because instead of going right into a Night of Potential Banging, Rachel’s three remaining hombres must first meet her family. Her sister Constance is eight months pregnant, so while the family usually treks across the world to wherever the godforsaken beach is that the Bachelorette is about to be proposed to, Rachel’s will not be because Constance can’t travel.

But I bet Constance is just a handy excuse. Because we met Rachel’s family during Nick’s season, and they seem too smart and skeptical for this show. I bet they were just like, nah, we’re not flying across the world to meet these dudes, some of whom we’ll never see again. They can come to us.

So the three dudes do.

PETER MEETS THE FAMILY

Peter and Rachel go shopping for a present to give Constance and her husband Alex for their soon-to-be newborn. There’s something very sweet about watching a couple enamored with each other and hopeful that maybe someday they’ll need to shop for baby things together. They settle on a t-shirt with a football on it for Rachel’s three-year-old nephew, and a matching onesie with a football on it for her unborn niece or nephew, and I’m melting. Damn you, baby clothes with sports on them. You get me every damn time!!!!

Peter is the obvious front-runner in my opinion. He��s a little spooked right now because he didn’t say I love you on the last date, so Rachel made him squirm by giving him the last rose at the previous rose ceremony. Before they go into her parents’ house, Peter’s like, listen, Rachel, I’m falling in love with you. And she’s like, I’m falling in love with you, too, which she hasn’t said to Eric or Bryan, thereby cementing my belief that Peter wins. He’s also been a little aloof and guarded this whole time, the way she was with Nick, and I think she respects that. Also, as a woman who often wants what she can’t have, I am speculating that perhaps Rachel is drawn to Peter because he feels like a challenge.

...and there it is! ❤️ #TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/MlpwrKqsqF

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) July 25, 2017

Rachel’s family loves Peter. Her father, a federal judge, is not around. Rachel gives no explanation as to why he isn’t, which makes me think he was simply like, “I’m a professional, upstanding, FEDERAL GODDAMN JUDGE, so no, my dear, I will not appear on your weird-ass reality dating show.”

Lunch goes well, and the family seems to really like Peter. He tells them how much he cares about Rachel. She looks very happy. They look very happy, yadda, yadda, yadda.

Peter tells Rachel’s mom Kathy — who I love, because she’s just as skeptical and pointed about this show as I am — that he isn’t going to propose to Rachel, so he’s not going to ask for her blessing. Instead, he asks for her blessing to continue dating Rachel.

Most Bachelorette moms would be pissed about this, given that all Rachel wants is a rock. But Kathy is a smart, level-headed woman, and tells Peter she very much appreciates that he doesn’t want to marry Rachel immediately because (she doesn’t say this, but I get the vibe that this is what she means) who the hell gets married after two months of dating on a reality show? She does warn him, however, not to hurt her daughter.

COPPER

Copper! ❤️ Enough said! #TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/2TIzOSjFOo

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) July 25, 2017

Rachel’s dog Copper is back! Remember? From one of the first episodes? Man, I wondered what he was up to. His leg, which used to be in a cast, seems to be somewhat heeled. Although now I’m wondering whether Copper is Rachel’s dog that her family is taking care of while she’s away or her family’s dog ... whatever, a dog is a dog, and I’m just glad to see Copper is doing well.

THIS IS AWKWARD

The weird thing about meeting Rachel’s family this way is that the three dudes have to stay in a hotel together. Normally after hometowns, they never see each other again except at rose ceremonies. But this time, they have to hang out. I think it must totally suck to have to sit there with your girlfriend’s two other boyfriends knowing they’re soon going to have sex with her, too.

Peter agrees with me.

“What’s awkward is having to sit her with her other boyfriend and know that her other boyfriend is meeting her family,” he says to Bryan. “I don’t want to be sitting here with you right now, I’m not going to lie.”

...he says as nicely as possible. #TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/WtaiNGSZwb

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) July 25, 2017

I wouldn’t want to be sitting there with Bryan, either. Bryan annoys the hell out of me.

ERIC MEETS THE FAMILY

Eric is as freaked out as Peter was calm. The whole story line with Eric this season has been that he’s never had a serious relationship before, and that he hasn’t been in love, so of course that’s what the family spends most of the time talking about.

Rachel and Eric are goofier together than Rachel and Peter are. But Rachel is also clearly more into Peter; I get friend vibes when she hangs out with Eric. Her family kind of picks up on this, too, though they seem to like him. Her sister Constance asks Eric about his past and seems a little concerned that he’s so inexperienced when it comes to relationships, but kind of shrugs it off.

There's a first time for everything. ❤️#TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/dsdWvDHXO8

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) July 25, 2017

Eric asks Kathy for her daughter’s hand in marriage. Kathy is clearly still not into this whole thing at all but she’s like whatever, sure, I guess, I trust Rachel. Do whatever.

BRYAN MEETS RACHEL’S FRIENDS

Bryan drives me up the goddamn wall. I just find him smarmy, annoying and cocky laced with underlying insecurity. His whole personality crawls under my skin and make me want to give him a swirlie.

Also, his clothes are terrible. Besides the sick watch Rachel bought him in Geneva (she’s wearing a matching one), he’s wearing the dumbest outfit. I mean, his khakis are fine, they’re whatever, but he doesn’t even have his light blue, slightly too-big button-down tucked into his pants. I wonder if it’s one of those stupid shirts from UNTUCKit (dumb capitalization theirs), the company that makes shirts you don’t tuck in and sponsors a lot of podcasts. I hate that company. Wear a belt and tuck your goddamn shirts in like real men, guys. Jesus. It’s not that hard.

Rachel’s friends like Bryan, I think, which kind of bums me out. Rachel’s like, “I thought he was a douchebag at first” and I’m like, hmmm, he still might be.

BRYAN MEETS THE FAMILY

Things get tense for a while, because Rachel’s mom grills Bryan about whether he’d choose his wife’s side or his mom’s side in an argument, and he hesitates before saying his wife. He tells Constance he loves the family, and she’s like, how can you say you love us when you’ve known us for an hour and a half? And how could you say you thought of Rachel as your girlfriend after knowing her for two weeks?

Both valid questions. Bryan kind of word salads his way through, with Bachelorette speak about love and trust and how fast timelines are possible because everything is so intense. Rachel isn’t thrilled with her family’s inquisition.

I’m working from my parents’ house this week, so my mom is watching the show with me. She’s making the most disgusted faces at the TV and fist-pumping when Rachel’s mom lays down the law.

“It’s like a fairytale,” she says. “You go to the king and say, ‘Want me to annex another kingdom in exchange for your daughter?’ How do they think this is going to work?”

Wise words, Deb.

Uh-oh! #TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/puOU4dYo9R

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) July 25, 2017

FREEZE FRAME, WAIT A MINUTE

This is the part of the season where I always realize how strange the circumstances of this show are. These people have been living in a world without their phones, without outside news sources, without any distractions, so the only thing they can think about is their emotions. They spend hours obsessing over each other and then convincing themselves that it’s love (which it could be, but, I mean) before rushing headlong to spend the rest of their lives with each other.

The families, meanwhile, are like, whoah... this is not normal. And then the Bachelorette and her bachelors spend a bunch of time being like, “I know this doesn’t seem normal, but trust me, it’s real...” and the family is like no, you’re not hearing us, THIS IS SUPER NOT NORMAL!!!!

The Bachelor/ette franchise is basically summer camp. You fall in love after three days and think you’ll be together forever, only to get back to school and realize Paul, who’s gone home to California, is not worth dating long-distance and looks better with a tan. But in the show’s case, booze is encouraged rather than hidden under bunk beds.

Anyway, Bryan asks Kathy for her daughter’s hand in marriage (which, for the second week in a row, makes me yell, WE MUST DISMANTLE THE PATRIARCHY! at the television — my mother nods) and Kathy’s like sure, whatever.

SPAIN! WE’RE NOT GOING TO FINLAND FOR THE FINALE LIKE LAST TIME BECAUSE SOMEONE AT ABC OWED SOMEONE AT FINLAND AIR A FAVOR!

Okay now we finally get to the Fantasy Suite section of this episode, which is the part I was excited for. But I’m worried we won’t get to all three because there’s not a ton of time left in the episode.

“Never did I ever think I would feel this way about three men at the same damn time,” says Rachel, as she traipses through the square of a Spanish town near wine country.

I don’t believe her. Because I think she’s super into Peter.

ERIC AND RACHEL FINALLY HAVE SEX, CONGRATS ON THE SEX!

Queen of the World! #TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/NJ5YkesCBM

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) July 25, 2017

Eric and Rachel have a lovely date where he tells her he loves her. The whole thing is boring and predictable. Eric does say, however, that Rachel challenges him, and that is he wants that in a partner. I’m like, hell yeah, Eric. I’m here for this. Men who can’t handle and don’t choose to be with a strong women can go soak their heads as far as I’m concerned.

Eric also seems to have undergone a lot of personal growth this season — I know I shit all over this show, but maybe, for Eric, it’s been good. He’s talking about his emotions and being vulnerable in a way that could end up being allowing him to be open for his next relationship (because I really don’t think he wins).

Rachel wants to sleep with Eric, because she pulls out the card that Chris Harrison has handwritten, announcing that if she and Eric want to, they can bang. I want to compare past cards from other seasons to see if Chris Harrison’s handwriting, or if the handwriting changes. I don’t think Chris actually writes these. I bet some intern does it.

The morning after Rachel and Eric sleep together isn’t as funny as I want it to be. There’s a quick shot of a rumpled up bed (wink, wink) and we see Rachel in another onesie pajama suit. It’s gray this time and lacks penguins. But other than that they just go get coffee. They don’t even tell us how the supposed sex was. Womp womp.

PETER’S FANTASY SUITE DATE

Peter and Rachel meet up on the streets of Spain, and I wonder if Peter knows she may have just banged Eric. I’d be so jealous if I made it to this point; I’d be like HAVE YOU ALREADY BANGED YOUR OTHER BOYFRIENDS AND IF SO I NEED TO KILL THEM? I PROBABLY DO WHERE ARE THEY.

But Peter is chiller than I am and doesn’t bring it up. They go to a vineyard, where Rachel tells the camera that she’s worried about Peter’s hesitation, and then an old dude who owns the vineyard tells them how much he loves his old wife. He sings to them and gives them their own wine cave.

Yes. Yes, we can. ❤️#TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/4Hwuv90XMU

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) July 25, 2017

Peter starts to tell Rachel how he doesn’t think he’ll be able to propose to her, but they get interrupted by a delightful little Spanish girl that the producers definitely didn’t plant as a diversion, so the rest of the date continues without any Serious Conversations. They stomp grapes and make out. It’s all very sexy.

BUT THEN DISASTER STRIKES

Peter saved the cork from a wine bottle they finished at the vineyard, and tells Rachel it’s his parent’s tradition to save the cork from special occasions and write something on it. She writes, “To many firsts.” But then she’s like so, we need to talk about the fact that all I want at the end of this is to be engaged, and you ... don’t.

(Quick aside: There are few things worse in a relationship than having to be like, so, we need to talk about a potentially unsolvable problem that neither of us are going to budge on. Woof. Poor Rachel and Peter)

Rachel says she could’ve had just a boyfriend if she stayed home, but that she’s here because she wants a husband. She says she doesn’t expect to get married right now, or even a year from now, but she wants to be engaged. Peter’s like, well to me, getting engaged is basically getting married. It just means you need to set a date and do the damn thing, and I’m not sure I’m ready to get married to you, because we’ve only dated in a fake bubble for two months.

#TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/ivwjyq8X7G

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) July 25, 2017

I think they both want the same thing, technically, but Rachel just needs that ring. Maybe she thinks that she’ll be a failure if she doesn’t come away with some diamond-y hardware. Maybe this is more about winning for her than it is what she actually wants in a relationship. Or maybe she really does want the title of fiancé! But I just think it would be stupid to choose someone else who’s willing to give her a ring over someone who you really want to end up with.

Rachel and Peter come to a stand still where neither of them are willing to say that they’ll change their mind. Rachel is crying and doesn’t know what to say. I feel so bad for her. Peter isn’t saying anything. Rachel says to the camera in an aside, “This is my first time ever thinking Peter and I may not work out.”

AND THEN THE SCREEN SAYS TO BE CONTINUED!

THIS IS SUCH BULLSHIT! WHAT WILL THEY DO?! I think this is a pump fake. I can’t see a world in which Peter doesn’t win, but now I’m all confused, because I don’t know how they work this out if neither of them will compromise. But they have to; I bet Peter is eventually like fine, fine, fine I’ll give you a ring.

In other news, why do we always want the ones who make it difficult for us?

[bookreadalongs]

November 9

17:16 5/9/2017 I should've waited until 11/9 to read this. It did not escape me that those numbers were 9/11 in a different order. This is not that kind of book at all though. Was. It a huge fan of the first part. It was not relatable , unbelievable, and just full of instalove. It was interesting that Fallon pointed out a lot of the shit. They both pointed out a lot of it, actually. It just felt weak...yet here I am, unable to put it down. Second November 9 Also, I did appreciate that he could not articulate his thought spectacularly. I appreciated that as a writer (and a person in general) he knew the importance of digging beneath the surface, finding motivation and truth that cannot immediately be seen. 87. A manic episode? So...he's bipolar? - also, doubtful now...but I thought he could possibly be a prostitute when his room mate was like yoooo where ya been 99. He seems to be the only one (okay, only Fallon and her dad are the other people I took into consideration) emphasizing her life in the whole...ordeal. 104. haha that's Kyle's girlfriend, right? Who's living with them now? I went to go back and check, but then I stopped myself. I should just read on. - Ah...so Fallon is what he wished his mom was...weird phrasing. I meant, alive. Hey, Fallon also compared Ben to her mom. 111. Yeah, as soon as Kyle came in and acted like that I was 10% more intrigued. Now, it's been amped up to 25% more 112. I don't get it. Is Kyle...it can't be Fallon in particular that he had a past with. CHoover has already done that shizz. 127. He's so loaded... 133. She so isn't going to be able to do all that with him. It's too perfect...too planned. This book is about things- reality- stopping plans from coming to fruition 138. You got a last minute plane ticket for her. Her dads not rich, but she seems well enough off to see you. And this book will be weird if one of the only times you see each other in five years is a phone call. 152. All of her nakedness and he hadn't even been shirtless yet. I've a feeling his jealousy is no match for what hers should be comparing his romantic endeavors with hers. I'd like her to keep the shirt 168. This is good. I like this. It's just not as compelling as LJ...maybe I'm just not grown up enough...but this is just... wry clearly a romance novel 171. Did he cause his mom's death? I have noticed (obviously) CHoover's method of having a character have some deep dark secret. Blaming himself for something that is not his fault is...not it. I don't know. 176. I appreciate CHoover's consciousness of people (okay, admittedly frequently females read her books) are quick to blame the female character. I'm kind of glad I didn't. I used to be that way. Such double standards... 180. Oh my gosh. HOW DID SHE DO IT? I TOTALLY FELT THAT WOULD HAPPEN? WHAT FORESHADOWING DID SHE DO? Like how it was obvious that one guy was deaf. She just gives out these subtle vibes. That's what really impresses me. I was thinking how it would be weird if brother thing...THEN IT HAPPENED. But it's also like...they were at their weakest ever...surely it couldn't have continued...yet her we are. Talk about bad timing, huh? Always. @LJandJohnAmbroseMcClaren 182. Wow. That's what he thinks? That's really what he thinks...that's what t alluded to I suppose. 183. I realized why it seemed like he was with Jordyn. He was being a dad. I mean...that had to been all there was...but, hm. I don't know. Those vibes, man. 184. I'm dying. This is it. This is why. I can feel so enamores and captured by the book even if I feel kind of a tinge apathetic and a little not connected to the characters...yet also tear up at these moments. 185. Obviously you can't leave like this...on the off chance you both decide to come back next year. "Off chance"...but for them it could be the last time they see each other. I guess she just makes weirdly real characters even though they also feel so fake...I really do admire her as an author. I feel like that admiration isn't coming through enough. I do love her work. 186. WOOO LOVER BOY NOTICES. This just makes for such a fucked up family. Like, the future? After they've had se x? Like...no. What the heck. Uncle...uh...Ben? And mommy? Ewwww! 188. Ohhhhhhh! Ben was with Jordyn first? Maybe? Interesting! I just read about Fallon not wanting to take him away from a woman who has been through so much. How did that cause me to think that? How does she write like this? 189. AH THAT WAS GOOD. That was SO GOOD. Fifth September nine 193. I bet this is the first one that started...not about one of them thinking about the other. The fire. I want to read Slammed. She says that...because she's afraid she'd lose the race of love. 198. "I'm studying the probability of soulmates" I love it. I hands down love it so much. That is my favorite sentence in this whole book. Because, of course he's studying that. That's just...him. I love it so much. Especially after Fallon began this chapter not believing in fate. It's great. 199. Okay, maybe I'm completely being ignorant here, but I feel like vibes were to be given off that Theodore was being a like...I need to find another word...rapey. 200. He never loved her though...did he? See, if I as the reader don't know, it's completely fair for her not to know. Did amber tell him? 202. They. Not we. Home? Surely he lives somewhere else then? But...that house is too big for only the two. 206. STOP SHE IS KIND OF A LITTLE DRUNK INSTEAD OF ROOTING FOR HIM FOR THE FIRST TIME IN THE NOVEL I WAS LIKE WHAT THE HECK 207. So, Amber did not tell Ben.... 208. Haha cue the scene where you're meant to love Amber 209. Ahhh! So it was Glenn! Obviously. Good job, dude! 210. I want her to say no. But that tomorrow-yes, that would be good. She needs to feel bad for how he felt too. 211. HOW DARE YOU!! Awww her friends....plus Ben 213. Agreed. Very agreed. A million times agreed. I hope the epilogue is like November ten -year six A year needs to pass OF them being a couple for an epilogue 214. He never told her he loved her. Not in those words, sure that he was falling in love with her, but not actually there. 215. See? That's what I knew would be really weird and bad and icky for a long time. 219. Okay, when is his bombshell going to drop though? It's always in these last few pages. 221. AHHHH HOW DID HE DEPICT HER? Maybe that's it. I feel like it'll have to play a role. Maybe after she broke his heart? I don't know! I'm so excited! 224. Honestly, better restraint than me. 227. Wow. I imagined he was the cause of his mother's fire. This is...not what I really thought. Awkward. Weird. Very secretive. Not poetic. 228. He did evade that one question early on. It was before I started taking notes. Mental notes though...Amber, I think asked when they met-no. That was how long they were dating. Fallon said something? I don't know, oh wait! About the first time he saw her, I think? Then he was like "well when I first saw you in that booth an hour ago..." and I was like that's so not what she said. But he didn't know the accident or...I guess just the situation she was referring to...oh. Welp. 228. Why would he incriminate himself by telling everyone? I'm confused by that. 230. I thought he commit arson for so long. How does she do this? 232. I like it. Like, that's what he dad instilled in her for so long. She had so many walls built up. For the one to help her take them down to hide this...and do it. Woah there. 234. I came into this book thinking it would be the fact that she didn't know he was writing about her would be the breaking point. Then, she knew the whole time, so I stopped thinking that...well...assumptions will be the death of me. 236. Wow. I like it. Ah, yes. Another year. 241. Okay, we all know it wasn't Amber. 243. Okay, even though she won't read it obviously her mom would. Or else, how else would their love story progress? We see his perspective to understand it's true. It weed out the fabrications imagined by a girl who has only seen him 5 days over the course of her life. 249. What? Was Fallon's father the cause of it? 250. Apparently...she went through with it. So, no foul play. Her tattoo, how does t relate to his? I guess just the fact that she was a poetry major. What about the fact that it was on a staff? 251. I see now. Something to do with his father, maybe? Uhg. Please don't let them be siblings...unless Fallon's mother was also unfaithful, but that would just screw up HER character. 252. I guess he did say music was important. Well, he only said that because of his mother. I need to go to that first time he went home. I need to reread that. 53-54. Where was he last night? 254. No page numbers is making this difficult. This is...obvious, right? 258. Oh, was he outside of their house that night? I want to go back to when Fallon talked about the girl who married for the money Donovan didn't have. I want to see Ben's response. Again. Not now though. Not right before the arson. 265. Panic attack? What does he have? Anything? Definitely something. Counting down? Ah, DEFINITELY something. 273. So, when Kyle died...he lost. He lost everything. 276. Wowza. This is long. I feel like my suicide letter- woah. Like, hypothetically. Completely hypothetically, would be super long too. Because I ramble. This note is very inappropriate. Did not realize that when I began it. Welp. What can ya do? WOAH WOAH WOAH PLOT TWIST. I saw the others coming, this? Not so much. 278. Had Kyle read the letter? He tossed the money on the table like he knew what he was doing. If Ian had to go to the station, and only just picked up a copy...Kyle couldn't have read t yet. WOW LOOKY THERE! BEN DID KNOW! That date was important for Ben too. That's why he was at their house the night before. That's why he was so unkempt. That's why neither of them slept much. 280. What do you mean half the manuscript? That was three chapters, none of which had you. Oh, she must have read more. Must have, right? 281. Oh. So, he wasn't visiting their house. He was with someone. Just as I thought earlier. Who the heck is it? How did Jordyn know? 382. He said once he met and talked with and did everything that day with Fallon, actually, it was in the middle. Because that's when he saw Kyle. But he said to himself, in his inner monologue, that he would change now...because of her. 283. Uhhhhhhhgggg fuck. That's exactly what I thought. Kyle. Kyle knew...that's fucking kid. Oh my gosh. I'm so blown away right now. Kyle was such a fricken trooper. Oh fuck. Goodness gracious that was such a trip. Good. I'm so glad. 287. Ahhh! Then you follow him to wherever he goes because you want to talk? 296. Ahhh! After all those spin offs of the story from the guy's side, this is the best. Well, she always alternates. She tries to make them more...masculine with boobs and whatnot, but they're always sensitive. Not just her, a bunch of writers. That's okay though. Because they're so dang lovable. Wait wait wait. Half way through the manuscript? That isn't that long. Certainly not enough for a novel...hmmm... 298. Ah, yes. Fate was in that little poemy bit hat has been before each action. HEY MY EPILOGUE IDEA OF NOV 10 IS LIKELY...or they'll just finish things up on the ninth like usual. I'd actually, again, prefer a flash forward...so Year 7. Like Harry Potter! But...why did they always wait so long so solve any bit of their problems? Interesting. "Last". Wasn't the fifth the last? Is it one in the same? It must be. Obviously they must make up...now. 305. Throwback to before when I started writing notes and she was like and there's this awesome guy who's practically a fictional boyfriend in front of me and I was like hah eye roll. 306. Aww that's actually quite cute. Could've gone straight to him though...and just gotten it together. You really scared him. But, it's fine. 307. Haha spoilers. I love it though. It's just as cutesy as one would only expect. Also, it's good that it didn't end on the twelve thing. I like that. It's cause of the whole author thing and her love of reading. Can we take a second to adore that she opened up a whole new genere to him? That's huge! A whole new world of possibilities were introduced. That's so sweet. I mean...also that they saved each other, but details, you know? 20.57 read straight through for the first time in a while 4 stars

#Colleen Hoover #may2017 #2 #2017