#I'm both speechless and effervescent | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

i-did-not-mean-to · 2 years

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For the bingo card, how about Dori & Nori come to young Ori’s spelling contest or poem performance or something and being absolutely so proud of him!!!!

My dear friend (whom I love truly), I am sorry, but this turned out sadder than I thought...I don't even know if this even qualifies as fluff anymore...

Also...there's a tiny Easter-egg in the story, if you find it, let me know <3

Art by @estethell ❤️

Life is a poem that doesn't rhyme

Words: 1,6 k

Characters : Ori, Dori, Nori & OC

“Come on, little one,” Dori wrapped his broad hand around the tiny one stretched out hesitantly in front of a frail body.

Mari was too small, too dainty, too fragile for a dwarven maid, he knew, and that might have been the reason for her deep-felt friendship with his youngest brother.

As the only child given – and almost lost thrice – to her parents, she was their most precious jewel and Dori felt proud and honoured that they agreed to let her come to their house to sit with Ori. Both were good, studious children, which brought great satisfaction and pleasure to their parents and guardians.

“Want a piggyback ride?” Nori offered and the small girl nodded, her pitifully thin braids bobbing. They were late already, and Ori would be heartbroken if he could not find them in the audience for his reading.

“Are you excited?” Dori asked the girl as they trotted down to the great hall where Ori – their pride and joy – would be called upon to read some of the excellent poetry he had written; wise beyond his age, their youngest brother had a mind that never ceased to astonish and amaze them.

“Yes,” Mari replied in that soft, ethereal voice of a creature having breathed the air of the Halls of Waiting, “he is my best friend.”

There was no excitement or effervescent childishness in her tone though; she declared her allegiance to another subpar dwarven youngster with the sober objectivity of a universal truth.

"I'm sure he’ll be happy that you could join us today,” Dori went on, tugging her scarf a bit tighter around her neck to make sure that she wouldn’t catch a cold.

“I doubt that,” she smiled ever so softly, “Ori knows how much I’ve enjoyed his poetry the first twenty times he read it to me. He doesn’t need me to be there to know.”

Ah, so wise, Dori thought to himself, and yet so young and naïve still.

Of course, Mari was right, and a part of his brother would definitely have known that the absence of his best friend would be due to other duties or to her frail health, but that didn’t prevent or soothe the sting of disappointment upon realising that his favourite pair of eyes would not witness his moment of triumph.

There had been too few of those.

Guilt – hot and humiliating – washed through Dori’s heart; if only they had been richer, if only Nori had been a steadier supporter of the family, maybe Ori had not turned out so delicate that Dori was constantly afraid that a strong gust of wind would blow him away.

“Your approval means much to him,” he muttered under his breath, wondering if he and Nori did enough.

Did the boy know how proud they were of him? Was he aware that they were in speechless awe whenever they observed him shoot across and beyond the limits of their own intellect?

If only he had been a smarter dwarf, he might have understood his baby brother better.

So many regrets, so many ‘if only’s, so many ‘what if’s…and no way to remedy them; he was terrified to be a curse upon the one who was his truest blessing.

More often than not, he felt like a dumb housecat, pawing helplessly at the surface of a pond, unable to even fathom or imagine the underwater world in which his darling brother – like a turtle – was at home and at ease.

And just like that mysterious creature, Ori could exist on land – amongst people who found him strange for being so woefully maladapted – and he never complained or boasted about that other realm he shared with the likes of his little friend in secret.

“He might not be loved by many, but at least he’s truly loved by a few,” Mari nodded solemnly for she knew that whatever dimensions of love, loyalty, and devotion had been revealed to her thus far, they were candles burning in Ori’s honour.

May your heart be true, Dori thought, for Ori will need a friend like you.

As a creature meant to live for centuries, he knew – as well as Nori – that a true friend was a shield, a sword, a morsel of bread, and a cup of water when one was alone, naked, and bleeding at the bottom of one of life’s ravines.

Plucking the girl – oh, she was much too light and brittle in his hands – off Nori’s back, Dori guided her to the seats reserved for them and smiled when she smoothed first her hair and then her beautiful lavender dress before sitting down, her hands politely folded in her lap.

She was yet too young to decide if she would ever want to wed, but – knowing full well how selfish and devious such a thought was – Dori wondered if she would ever come to think of his brother as dams sometimes pondered male dwarves.

In their present state – and given the lack of potential both displayed – they would probably be blessed never to even consider that option; it was hard enough to find a partner if one was traditionally handsome and wealthy enough to support a family.

“Hush,” Mari whispered to nobody in particular as Ori stepped onto the small dais, his face aflush with nervous embarrassment.

As predicted, his eyes swept across the crowd until they came to rest on the faces of the people closest and dearest to his little, sensitive heart; the broad smile of recognition and gratefulness – a smile Dori cherished beyond everything in this world – rivalled the glare of the lanterns as his eyes lit up with joy.

Ori’s trembling voice vacillated like a flame in a draught but – after a few moments – he grounded himself, stubbornly brave little boy that he was, and read his heart-wrenching and utterly beautiful poetry with the natural rhythm and ease of a river racing the wind.

“That’s bloody good,” Nori whispered, earning a jab in the ribs by his brother who nodded at Mari sitting silent and entranced in her chair, her legs dangling in the air.

“It’s well paced.” Dori agreed then, pride swelling in his heart to the point where it choked his voice into a thin, tremulous whistle.

“It’s the rhythm of his heartbeat,” Mari commented, not taking her eyes off her friend of a single moment.

“What would you know?” Nori laughed good-humouredly.

“What do you mean? It’s the first thing you hear and – if you’re lucky indeed – it’s also the last. The steady beating of a drum that calls you home,” Mari replied, still not sparing a single side-glance for the stunned dwarf at her side.

Nori nodded slowly, meeting Dori’s eyes over Mari’s head; he could not understand where Ori took the talent, the inspiration, or even the words from but he was proud of their little one in such an unselfish way that he barely recognised the ebbing and flowing emotion, threatening to drown him, as his own.

Ori would make it out, Nori knew, he would grow beyond both him and Dori even if he never shot up another inch in his life; his warmth, his quiet courage, and that wickedly sharp mind of his would carry him further than he – himself – could even see.

Dori’s thoughts ran along similar lines indeed; sorrowful by nature, he was afraid of the day when Ori would leave for a place where he could not follow him anymore. He lived in constant terror of the moment when the strong moral compass and the iron determination of the pebble would set him on a path from which he wouldn’t ever return.

Not today though, Dori tried to remind himself, today, Ori was just a young poet, grinning at his brothers and his best friend over the beaded and braided heads of a nameless, faceless crowd. He was still their little pebble, their greatest treasure, their biggest achievement, and Dori could not have loved him more if he had been of his own seed.

When Ori finished, Nori clapped and hollered raucously – much to the amusement of Ori and the embarrassment of Dori – while Mari simply nodded slowly.

Not waiting for the accolades, Ori hopped off the dais and ran towards his family, jumping into Dori’s arms eagerly to be spun around.

Dori closed his eyes; this too would fade, soon, much too soon, Ori would be too big and too grown to ask to be held by his older brothers.

“Well done,” Mari slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled forth a slightly squashed honeyed cake, “I made them myself, they might not be good, but I’ve tried.”

“Oh Mari, did you rest enough?” Ori asked, taking the cake, and breaking it apart to share with both his brothers – who declined politely – and Mari who simply nibbled at her piece distractedly. “It’s really good, thank you!”

Ori blushed a little; his courage was called forth by necessity and urgent situations, but it abated as quickly as it arose and now, he felt slightly uncomfortable being the centre of attention.

“I’m proud of you kid,” Nori chuckled, patting the soft, silky hair of his youngest brother three times for good luck, “I hope you know that.”

Ori nodded shyly; yes, no matter how they fought and bickered between themselves, he had never doubted that his brothers were fond of him – even though he was kind of small and spindly still – and it was their love and support that gave him the strength to be brave.

“Thank you ever so much for coming,” he whispered and allowed a small smile to spread on his face as Mari handed the bigger part of her share of the cake back to him with a whispered promise that she still loved every single word of his poetry.

Life would be hard, Ori knew, for all of them because of different reasons; not today though, tonight, the world was perfect, and he was happy.

Does this qualify as fluff? I don't know...

I am sorry, if you hate it, please send another one and I'll try again :(

#fotfics #february challenge #fluffy prompts #the hobbit #fanfiction #ori #dori #nori #ri brothers #slight angsty hints #Idk what happened #I'm so sorry

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nanaminokanojo · 3 years

Text

[6:30PM] Iwaizumi X You

LOG #14 OF MY HAIKYUU!! TIME STAMP DRABBLES

CHARACTERS: Iwaizumi Hajime X You WORD COUNT: 1,200+ GENRE: fluff | romance | high school au TRIGGER WARNING: strong language SPOILERS: n/a

collection masterlist

Effervescent. That's how Iwaizumi's kisses were like, always similar to the cool feel of sweet carbonated drink touching your lips for the first time on a scorching hot day, tiny bubbles popping against your mouth, inconspicuous at first then spreading into something more profound and intense.

You felt that same thing every single time and at that moment as he tilted your head up, big, calloused hands securing you at the nape while you both sat lotus at the sidelines of the volleyball court. You anticipated what was to come as his slightly chapped lips made contact with yours, uncaring of who was watching, but the feeling was something you can never get used to.

It's been a month since you started dating but you have not adjusted to his affections towards you from the sweet little gestures to his affection both physical and verbal. It always and without miss flusters you. Probably beyond that since you feel as if you can't breathe and you feel as if your heart would just stop every single time he comes too close.

In your defense, you didn't really know him as well as you thought you did. Your relationship started with a dare because you were too shy and socially impaired and your friends were a bunch of jerks who told you to walk up to the group of seniors lounging about at the front quad and ask for anyone's number. But surprise, surprise! They seem to know you by name and Oikawa took your number instead, gave you his for the sake of the dare and later gave your number to his "friend" who was apparently crushing on you. How and why, you didn't understand. It ended up to be Iwaizumi Hajime, the volleyball team's ace.

You've known him a total of six months and every single time he does and says something, be it involving you or not, your reaction is to be stunned speechless or motionless, basically useless. You didn't understand why every little thing he does has that profound effect on you, his multi-faceted personality surprising you at every turn.

"Baby, you're turning blue," your now boyfriend said when he pulled away from the kiss, torn between concern and laughing.

In your head, you were trying to figure out how the fierce, somewhat scary Iwaizumi who keeps Oikawa in check in a gruff manner could be so gentle with how he approached you, smile like he has never frowned in his entire life and do all those corny things couples do. You marveled at his warmth, at how affectionate he could be. It was unsettling and sometimes, you're wondering if you were dealing with the same person.

"Breathe," he told you and you released the baited breath in your lungs you weren't even aware you were holding in. He grinned at you then. "Don't look at me like that, Y/N. I'm gonna melt."

"Huh?" Okay, you're being dumb now, but you had no idea what he was talking about. "I-I wasn't..." You looked away, covering your face with your sweater paws, your cheeks feeling like they're going to catch on fire.

He clucked his tongue. "Baby, you're scaring me. You suddenly freeze up when I touch you. Am I doing anything wrong?"

"No!" You cringed at how loudly you spoke and just shook your head. "That's n-not...no." You flashed him an awkward smile. "Please don't think that way, Hajime. I'm just..."

"What?"

"Er...not used to this." He's your first boyfriend after all. You didn't know how to handle things yet, and really, you were fumbling blindly.

Iwaizumi arched a brow at you, tilting his head to the side, a smile threatening to draw itself across his mouth. "You don't like it when I kiss you?"

Your eyes grew wide as saucers. "No. I like it."

"So why do you get all nervous?"

You took a sharp intake of air, overwhelmed by your thoughts. You didn't know where to begin explaining. You liked it when he gets physical with you, but then it also addles your brain and makes you all jittery. And you only managed to say one thing: "Warn me."

"Huh?"

Your eyes met his squarely. "Tell me when you're about to do something. Prepare my heart for it."

He was quiet for a bit, trying to figure out the meaning behind what you were saying. He looked brooding, making you distance yourself a bit, thinking you said something wrong. You didn't want to make it seem like his advances were tornadoes that need sirens, but it pretty much sounded like that to you.

"I didn't know I affected you that way." Iwaizumi broke into that crooked smile, morphing into a smirk as he leaned even closer, slowly closing the gap between you. "But I can't get enough of your flustered face whenever I kiss you."

You pouted. "If my heart stops it's your fault."

Without a warning, he leaned much too close, advancing forward as he placed a hand behind your head. Just as you said, the little thumper in your chest fluttered rapidly and seemed to have stopped. Your eyes remained locked in his piercing gaze, more because he commanded you to than the fact that you wanted to. He rested his hands on either side of your head, poised above you as his muscular arms supported his weight, suspended mere inches from you.

"How's that for a warning?" he asked, voice coming out hoarse as shifted his vision between your eyes and your lips.

"T-that's not much o-of a warn-warning –"

"It's okay if you blame me for when your heart suddenly stops." He grinned slyly at you. "I'll always make sure to restart it."

Iwaizumi was about to claim your lips again, millimeters away when he suddenly raised an arm in defense as a blue and yellow ball came speeding towards him. You gasped, bracing for impact but it didn't come.

He effectively deflected, eyes remaining on you. A gentle smile etched its way across his mouth before pecking you quickly, his head immediately turning to look at the direction from whence the ball came from. Sure enough, Oikawa, Matsukawa and Hanamaki were standing there, sporting cheeky grins.

"Oh no," you whined under your breath.

"Iwa-chan, you're getting bolder every day," Oikawa commented, looking smug.

Your boyfriend was suddenly on his feet, running at full speed towards the other three, chasing them and throwing balls he picked up along the way at them, the last one hitting his best friend on the back of his head.

You just lay there, covering your face and suppressing the smile that was threatening to make itself known as heat suffused your skin, tickling your cheeks pink and your heart aflutter yet full.

"Are you just gonna stay there?" you heard Iwaizumi say from above you. When you took a peek, he already had his hand extended towards you. "Up you go."

Taking it, you hoisted yourself up, surprised when he suddenly pulled you towards him, arms locking around your waist. He gave you that tender look, happy that you weren't the only one whose face was burning red. Still, he had other things in mind.

Iwaizumi leaned his forehead against yours, smiling like he hadn't just tried to beat up his friends seconds ago and said, "Now where were we?"

-end-

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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7r0773r · 3 years

Text

Abigail by Magdo Szabo, translated by Len Rix

"All done!"

"Not all done," said Mari Kis crossly. "You haven't finished. What

about Vitay?"

"Oh, yes," said Szabó, peering into the register. "Number 20. The

empty aquarium."

Oh God, not that! At first she had thought the whole thing quite amusing, far more so than she had expected: Torma, married to the Appian Way, where she had so often strolled with Marcelle and which now came so vividly to mind, the two of them passing through the Porta Sebastiana and moving on towards the distant tomb of Caecilia Metella, and Mari Kis as the wife not of one person—or in this case object—but of three, since the Laocoön group consisted of three statues...or indeed four, because there was also the serpent: that was funny it almost brought tears to your eyes. The girls were almost prostrate with laughter at the husbands they had been given; of course they didn't dare laugh out loud, and having to suppress it made the atmosphere in the room all the more hilarious and effervescent: it was as if they had all suddenly become drunk. Rideg, who happened to be sitting beside her, pointed out that her husband had only a head, because that was all that the picture on the wall showed, which made it even funnier—to have a husband whose body stopped at the neck. But while Szabó had immediately accepted the husband she had been given, Gina's own pleasure in the proceedings had come to a sudden end. It was amusing enough to be married to an empty aquarium, but it also made her angry. She stood up to protest. Could she please have another husband? She certainly didn't need an empty aquarium. She wasn't going to take part in such a stupid game as that.

"You can't do that," whispered Szabó, not crossly but wanting to explain. "It's against the rules either to choose or to change. You're number twenty, and that's what you get. Don't waste your time."

"It's the rule," Mari Kis added, in a whisper.

A rule indeed! Gina shrugged her shoulders and replied that that wasn't a rule, it was a piece of downright stupidity.

"You can't do this!" Szabó whispered again. "It just isn't possible. Everyone gets married. It's the custom here. Do you think I'm happy with this Friedrich August Quenstedt? I don't even know what it is!'

"I'm not going to have an aquarium," said Gina. "I'm not going to join in. Don't any of you understand?"

"Come on," said Mari Kis, wagging her head. "Don't be silly. This is one of our most important traditions. It has been ever since Mitsi Horn got engaged, and it's great fun. If it's an aquarium, so it's an aquarium. Isn't an aquarium human too? I never saw the likes of you."

Her voice was a mere whisper, and her tone was neither hectoring nor sharp, but it put Gina in such a rage she could no longer think clearly. If Mari had never seen the likes of her, well, they hadn't seen anything yet. Gina could be impetuous and short-tempered: Marcelle had often told her off for it. The exchange had driven her to the point where she was speaking without giving any thought to what she was saying.

"I don't want any of this, I'm not going to have any part in it and I'm not interested in your stupid traditions. I've got a real man courting me!"

"A real man?" Torma protested. "How can you possibly have a man courting you when you're shut up in here with the rest of us? Stop moaning! Why can't you see the funny side?"

Gina completely forgot that they were supposed to be sitting in silence. At the top of her voice she shouted that she didn't see anything funny in their stupid games—they were all a bunch of idiots. She wasn't used to people who behaved like that. Her friends in Budapest were the normal ones, and that included her suitors. (She only had one, but it sounded better in the plural.)

There was an instant silence, a silence she should have realized was quite unnatural, even in the Matula. But she was thinking only of herself, of her anger and her feelings, and she failed to notice it. All she wanted to do now was to tear the shoelace from her plaits, run out of the room and hammer with her fists on the iron-studded door to be let out.

"Very well," said Szabó. "If that's what you want. It isn't in the rules, but never mind. Vitay won't be taking part with the rest of us. Vitay will have no husband. She'll be an old maid."

Gina felt she would explode. She had thought about her coming marriage a thousand times. She ran her eye over Szabó, from top to toe—the plump belly, the stumpy legs, the whole shapeless body almost bursting out of the ugly uniform.

"You're the one who'll be an old maid," she shouted. She failed to notice that at this point all eyes had turned away from her. The attention of the class was elsewhere. They had seen something she had not.

"Who would want to marry you, you horrible fatty? Who would ever want to kiss you?'

Szabó did not blush; she went deathly pale. Gina immediately realized she should never have let herself say that. Szabó was truly, alarmingly, morbidly overweight, like someone with a long-standing hormone problem. She did not attempt to reply. She would not have been able to even if the offence had not left her speechless, because the whole class had now risen to their feet. Gina, who like Murai and Szabó had been facing away from both them and the door, now turned towards it. There, gazing steadily at her, was Kalmår.

"What manner of speech is this?" he demanded. "Who was shouting in that disgraceful way? Who on earth are you? The class were all standing to attention. How wonderful it would have been just then if someone had come to her assistance, had tried to defend her, or at least to offer the man some explanation. But the others just stood there, gazing at Kalmår in silence. Gina had refused to join the fifth year in their game, and now, in her hour of need, they rejected her in turn. (pp. 52-55)

#magda szabo #book quotes

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