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3lli3l0v3r · 1 month

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10:15 Saturday Night

READ THIS FIRST! 🇵🇸 my masterlist here.

☆: this one-shot is based on this little imagine/idea thing y'all really liked! ellie coming into your bedroom after throwing rocks at your window, that famed rom-com trope. i love making titles from songs so here’s this one. linking it because i despise the way the audio embed thing looks, that shit’s so ugly- have nothing else to say except this was meant to be only fluffy, but i got a little carried away at the end (and sub!ellie turns me into a rabid raccoon so) 😇 smut is embarrassing af to write i better get over that lmao but anyway, hope you enjoy!

♧: 5k word count

◇: SMUT!! porn w/ plot, but it's sweet. lotsa fluff too, modern au, established relationship, reader feels gloomy in the beginning, mentions of unspecified argument, dorky ellie saves the day, mentions of being irritated at family, mututal teasing back n forth, ellie’s lowk annoying LMAO. kinda mean reader (but in a hot way), lazy/rushed intro bc i’m impatient. cuddling → starts out as top!ellie but oops! a dash of nipple play, a little fighting for dominance ending in sub!ellie & dom!reader, fingering (e! and r! receiving), oral (e! receiving), risky sex. she's a whimperer folks- lawd i needa ruin her….this is very self indulgent, in case you couldn’t tell. lmk if i forgot anything!)

Waiting for the telephone to ring, and I’m wondering where she's been. And I'm crying for yesterday, and the tap drips. Drip, drip, drip, drip….

Robert Smith’s vocals rang through the room as you spun around in your chair, round and round and round until you got dizzy, your brain being jostled around in your skull as if you were on a rollercoaster. Gaming chairs, powerful things they were. You were lost in thought, pondering the state of the world and your life, because you had nothing better to do other than wallow in your miseries.

Everything was going downhill, or that’s certainly what it felt like currently. You hated every single one of your responsibilities and life was generally not being kind to you. But most of all, you hated disagreeing with your girlfriend. Ellie could get a little feisty when things didn't go exactly her way, and you loved that fighter quality about her, but maybe not when it was used in your disagreements with her. This particular day her spunky attitude was getting on your nerves, and both of you had gotten a little irritated with each other.

You knew that neither one of you meant anything you said in the heat of the moment, you just had occasional squabbles like everyone else. However this time, today’s words hit you a little harder. Not to mention it was spring break and so for the time being you’d gone back home to spend time with your family. Ellie had done the same. You were very grateful the two of you grew up close to each other, only started your relationship years after initially meeting. You enjoyed reminiscing about the budding moments, adored looking back on the good ole days.

The source of today’s irritation could have been a myriad of things. Maybe you’d had another little fight with your family members, had a lot of assignments due after the break was over, and the weather was generally horribly ugly. Gray, cloudy skies, pouring rain, wind and chilly temperatures, everything was just going swimmingly. When all of that added up it was only natural for people to be a little on edge, and briefly forget the good moments life had to offer, wasn't it?

Picking up your phone, you stared at the sent message to Ellie, just a plain text asking what she’s up to. Even in moments of disagreements where you needed space to get yourself back on track, you would send her little messages as a way to show her, and reassure yourself, that it was only temporary and the two of you would talk it out amazingly and come out even stronger on the other side.

But now you’ve been left on delivered for hours, was she really that busy? Knowing her, it was likely. Her and Joel were probably out fishing or hiking or doing some other fun outdoorsy activity, while you were just left to rot within the confines of your childhood bedroom. Had she not ticked you off earlier you would have asked to come with. Waiting on an answer from her of any kind would only serve to frustrate you even more, so you put your phone away and collapsed into your warm, inviting bed, despite it being way too early to go to sleep. But you didn’t feel like doing much of anything else, so a little shut-eye wouldn’t hurt.

Within moments you were out like a light. Blissfully relaxing in dreamland, where you were frolicking amongst colorful flower fields and riding on the back of a unicorn into the sunset, dancing with fairies and twirling to your heart's content. Your family dog’s deafening barking was drowned out by you playing the harp with elves and floating endlessly into an abyss of turquoise waters. You were so deep in this wonderful dream, it was healing you in all the right ways you needed right now. Restoring every ounce of energy you lost, fighting against your inner saboteurs so efficiently. You’d simply stay there forever if you could. Until-

Plink, plink, plink. A small, repetitive sound persisted through your slumber, eventually waking you up. Startling awake and switching on your lamp, you stepped out of bed with a groan, stumbling over your steps and rubbing your eyes to get to the window to see what in the world could possibly be happening.

It was raining heavily, and seemed to be hours after you had initially fallen asleep. You squinted through the raindrops coating the pane of glass and down into your yard as an attempt to scout out the noise. Looking down through the blur, you were met with your loving, apologetic girlfriend, her form scurrying around your yard in the dark of night, scavenging your yard for something. Were those pebbles she was throwing at your window? How cliche.

It appeared as if she had found some, standing upright and rearing her arm back in preparation to fling it at the glass, until she saw you and waved. You didn't open the window just yet, and signaled to tell her to scram. What was she doing here at this hour, in this weather? You flapped your arms frantically in every direction, out towards every axis, resulting only in her pouting and shaking her head. You weren't going to get rid of her that easily.

Twisting and turning the knob to open the window with a creak, you lean outside in the drizzle and stage whisper down at her. “Ellie? It's like, I don't even know the time, but it's late. What the fuck are you doing?” The phrases thrown at each other during your earlier squabble flickered through your mind again, but you pushed them aside because the sight of your love always made your heart melt. And she was clearly up to something, so you were going to see it through to the end.

She shouts up at you, “Hey, I wanna say I'm sorry for earlier. I wanna make it up to you so-” She cuts herself off by bending into a kneel, setting down her bag on the wet grass and rummaging through it, pulling out her navy blue ukulele and clearing her throat. You feel yourself blush from the actions, might be from second hand embarrassment, might be because you're touched by the gesture. She begins.

“So, uh, I tried getting my guitar but it was too big to carry all the way here and I don't want it to get wet so, this'll do.” She strums it, gently swaying from side to side, and sings a scuffed rendition of A-ha's Take on Me, her voice shaking slightly and the cheap instrument being significantly out of tune. The rain and distant thunder was drowning her out, but watching patiently was more than fine. You stay at your window, listening to her serenade until the last few lyrics.

Not even realizing it, but once she finishes the performance, your heart is warmed and you're beaming at her. You truly loved her so much, and as much as you wished to, couldn't stay mad at her for any longer. And regardless, standing out in the rain getting soaked to the bone like that was her punishment, in a sense. The moonlight is dancing on her face in a way that makes her eyes twinkle as if they were plucked straight from the cosmos, and she's grinning widely at you. Enchanting as ever.

“Did it work? I love you!” She blows you a kiss, wipes her slicked down hair from her face and shudders violently. “It's really cold down here, can I come up? Please lemme in.” The slight nasally tone in her voice could make you do anything for her, damn, this girl didnt even know how much of a hold she had on you sometimes.

“Fine. Just one sec.” You closed the window on her to take a quick, silent stroll through the halls of your house to make sure every one of your family members was situated in their respective rooms, and unlikely to be disturbed by any ruckus. By the time you made your way back to your own room, Ellie had already perched herself in the big oak tree next to your house. She was crouched at the top of it, gripping onto a branch and peering inside your room, calmly waiting for you to return and so you could give her the “okay” to come in.

She startled you momentarily, looking like a bit of a creep staring into your house like that, but you laughed it off and opened the window fully for her. “Okay, here goes.” Ellie mumbles under her breath and inches forward closer to the edge of your roof. It wasn't a big gap, but there was a sure possibility of injury and it was a risk you didn't want her to take, but Ellie being Ellie, she was going to be reckless and do it anyway.

What if her foot slipped on the wet shingles and she went splat on the ground? Or broke every bone in her body with a crunch…? That wouldn't be pretty. Your stomach flipped with nerves and you grimaced, turning away. “Please don't die.” She didn't respond and instead only focused on completing the jump to your roof with a “hmf”. One step was done, you breathed a sigh of relief and opened one eye.

She was slowly making her way there with both arms outstretched, and as she had almost completed the journey, she tripped. You screeched quietly and turned away again, that was definitely helpful, but bracing yourself for the worst inevitably proved unnecessary when you heard her familiar raspy giggle. She caught herself just in time and was at the windowsill now, appearing winded from the effort and adrenaline.

“Heh, told you I'd be fine.” “Ellie don't scare me like that, just hurry up.” You helped her crawl inside your candle lit room by the arm, and once she was inside only then did you notice how drenched she was from the rain. Just sopping wet, dripping water all over your, thankfully, hardwood floors. The severity of the conditions outside only became even more apparent to you now, poor girl was about to turn into an icicle. It would be mean of you to leave her like this and let her catch a cold, she hasn’t wronged you quite that much. But a part of you was feeling a little playful, a little mischievous perhaps.

“Don't move, I'll find you something warm.” Before you can disappear inside your closet to find her some dry clothes she attacks you in a clumsy embrace, resulting in you being soaked now too. You try to pry her away and feel goosebumps come on as her cold lips connect with your neck, moist smacks as she smooches you all over.

“Let go, Els, c'mon you're gonna get me all wet too.” You lament to her, then regret your choice of words instantly as she pulls away to look at you, wiggle her eyebrows and smirk, to which she comments. “Damn right I am, that's m'goal.”

Whenever she pulls dirty jokes on you your immediate instinct is to burst into laughter, but you clap your hand over your mouth and hiss back at her. “Shhhh we gotta be really quiet, everyone's asleep. I don't feel like getting a talking-to at breakfast in the morning, y'know because ‘their house, their rules’.” You whisper the explanation to her as you roll your eyes and mock your family's words, adding air quotes as well.

Ellie gives you double thumbs up in response, solemnly swearing to not produce a peep. After rummaging through your drawers, you find a warm pajama set which matches yours and make her put it on while you sneak around to grab her a towel to dry off with too.

Moments later the two of you are cuddled up in your bed together, entangled in each other's arms, enjoying the quiet company. Just listening to the other’s steady intakes and exhales of oxygen, warm hands caressing over clothes stroking each other's hair, wanting to absorb into the other and assimilate into one being. What a shame that wasn't possible, you thought.

There wasn't too much of a need to discuss the disagreement in depth, because of the mutual understanding it wasn't anything serious, and ultimately the product of annoying circumstances, which was definitely a huge relief. Shit happens, and you were as glad ever to be entangled in her arms again, although it was worth mentioning in short anyway. You break the silence by whispering into her ear.

“You didn't have to come here Els.” You hear her let out a throaty chuckle, then squeeze your waist tighter. “I felt bad, I know you've been kinda under the weather recently. And wanna say sorry for being annoying earlier.” She murmured into the side of your neck, sending tingles on a path spreading throughout your whole body.

While the the two of you were cuddling in your room keeping conversation faint as can be, she had absent-mindedly began to roam her hands around your body, from the sides of your ribcage, to clutching your waist, to settling on your hips to play with the waistband of your fleece pajama pants. She was placing feather-light kisses on your neck simultaneously, and you found it hard to believe she didn't know what she was doing, but it was definitely working on you, and you frankly found it funny. She really did have a habit of being handsy. Your logical side was screaming how bad of an idea this was, but your horny side…

It was like the angel and devil sitting atop your shoulders, debating the pros and cons. You wondered who was going to win.

Teasingly whispering back to her, “Els, what do you think you’re doing?” Even through her hushed tone, you could hear the smirk dancing upon her pretty pink lips. “Nothin’ much, just feelin’ up my girl.” She finishes the statement with a firm squeeze to your boobs. Subtle. And just like that, the little devil was winning, you could hear their maniacal cackles metaphorically in your mind.

“Ellie, my fuckin’ parents are asleep in the next room over, do you know how thin these stupid walls are?” “So?” “So??? Do you want me to die knowing they were woken up by their adult, straight-A, accomplished, child sneaking in her girlfriend in the middle of the night, like we’re teenage hooligans in a movie or something?”

You'd put Pinocchio to shame by lying like this, knowing full well having her cuddled up close to you, feeling her strong hands sensually explore every curve and valley on your body, and her wearing some of your favorite pajamas was slowly but surely getting you all worked up. All that in tandem with the risk factor was turning you on much more than you'd care to admit. Unpack that another day. Your face was burning and your heart rate was increasing whether you liked it or not, and your girlfriend was right there…a little messing around wasn't going to hurt anyone, was it?

Hesitantly giving in, you turn around in bed to face her and wordlessly press a kiss to her lips, shoving down the lingering embarrassment. It surprises her and she doesn't kiss you back right away, instead laughs in your face and cracks more stupid dad jokes, only making you roll your eyes and punch her in the arm. She snickers, “Ha, not so good after all, are ya?”

When you don't throw a snarky remark back at her she takes your face in her bracelet-clad hand, thumb gliding across your bottom lip smoothly. The dim light in your room casts shadows on her face that make her look mystical, and hot as hell. “Wanna make you feel good.” She murmurs, mostly to herself, while scanning your features shamelessly.

You abruptly sit up and she follows, watching you quizzically. You look her up and down a few more times, just for the sake of it, before roughly yanking her towards you by the shirt and slamming your lips onto hers. She responds properly this time, slipping her tongue into your mouth with ease just how you like it, her grabby hands running all over your body, not knowing where to settle.

The kiss is hot and greedy, pure need coursing through your veins. You'd only been apart for a week at most, and it was definitely a week too long. Your own hands find their way up to her auburnette locks as you grab a fistful and pull, coaxing a scarcely audible groan rumble from her throat. You nip and bite down on her neck, stopping when you get to her pulse point where you could feel just how hard her heart was racing, reveling in the tiny pants leaving her lips as she tried so hard to stay as quiet as possible per your request, screwing her eyes shut and gritting her teeth.

She pulls you back up to meet her in a sloppy kiss, maneuvering the two of you so she was on top of you and you were on your back, gripping the soft flesh of your thighs as she places herself between your legs. Her fingers playing with your nipple while the front of her pelvis rammed against your heat was making you desperate for more of her, and quickly.

Her hands slid under your shirt and caressed your skin all over your entire torso, then you stopped her to take your shirt off and throw it to a corner of your room. Ellie wasted no time to place her mouth on your chest, peppering sweet kisses wherever her lips could reach, licking and sucking on your nipples until they hardened, pausing to stare up at you when the sensation made you squirm into her and sigh. “So much for being quiet, huh?” She taunts oh so smugly, thinking she's got to you.

But her voice fluctuates in pitch as her mind becomes more clouded with arousal, resulting in you getting wetter and wetter. She was going to kill you. Bucking your hips into her in pursuit of some friction, she takes the hint and briskly undoes the bow on your pj pants, and slides her hand in. Her fingers land on the wet spot soaking through your underwear and she prods at it, just to annoy you further.

She really was being purposely insufferable today. You jeer at her, “can you just-” She shuts you up by kissing you again, messily and open-mouthed, swallowing every little sound you made. You pull her closer against you by the waist, and she whimpers. That turned you on even more, if that was even possible, your whole being thrumming with lust, new ideas materializing in your mind. What if you got back at her for being annoying, and in the best way?

The risk factor of having to stay impossibly quiet only added more fuel to the fire, and now you wanted to challenge it as much as you could. You snake your hand down her body and palm her pussy over her clothes and you swore you could feel her clench as soon as you made contact.

She lowers her head to your shoulder and her hand in your pants stops moving, you've officially broken this girl with one lazy touch. “Hmm?” You hum, feigning foolishness as if nothing was deliberate. “Seems you're the needy one here, Els.” Cooing at her in a low voice, her uneven breathing fills your ear. The way she'd planted herself on top of you made the task difficult but not impossible, and you shimmied your hand to her boxers, feeling up the wet spot that was surely triple the size of yours. Not cracking jokes now, is she?

And voila, you knew what your next moves were going to be. Your only goal was to have some fun with her now, just because you could. You began to rub your fingers up and down her slit, the thin fabric catching her clit perfectly making her breath hitch as she tries to suppress whines. “Hey, that's not…fair.” Ellie attempts to regain composure over herself and talks back through gasps, but you don't cease what you're doing. Breaking her was too good.

She fights back by copying your motions, her shaky hand rubbing your pussy at a messy rhythm, up and down, side to side, really not accomplishing much because eventually you win, and she removes her hand from you and presses her body against yours, clutching your waist for dear life and shoving her head in the crook of your neck to stabilize herself.

Her whimpers and tiny moans were music to your ears, egging you on to do more. Moving the fabric aside, you slide a finger inside her needy, drenched hole, slick dripping down your knuckles as you find her spongy spot and curl your fingers against it. She hisses on top of you, clearly you were doing something right.

Inserting another one, you could feel her walls clench and gush around your digits, as you ruthlessly pressed against her g-spot, the heel of your palm bumping against her sensitive clit, eliciting harsher whines from her, muffled by your shoulder.

After a short few moments, you could tell she was about to cum by the way her pussy walls fluttered, and whimpers increased in desperation, sugary, dulcet “ah- haah"s escaping from her lips.

“Gettin close, Els?” Your voice was supple as honey, you were enjoying this too much. She gulps and nods her head, “yeah..hn..please.”

Not so fast. “Hm, okay.” Replying in a cheery tone, as cheery as you can be while whispering that is, you stop all you're doing and tap her on the back. She puffs and sniffles, her voice small and trembling. “What'd you do that for?”

She was too cute like this, you chuckled at her pathetic attempts to rut against you to get that release, and grunt in annoyance.

“Patience.” “Whatever.” She grumbled. “Lay down.” You order her gently, and stroke her hair. Of course she obeys, she needed this too much.

With shaky arms Ellie lifts herself off of you, pouting down at you then plopping herself down beside you in the bed.

Switching places, you stare down at her fondly, wanting to make her feel good properly now. She deserved it after all that. You bend to kiss her forehead, which makes her blush go from rosy to crimson to maroon, her freckles blending in with her cheeks, and she bites her bottom lip while avoiding your gaze. Her expression was simply adorable, all flushed and fucked out already, all for you.

You grope at her chest, making her whine and scrunch her face up. “Need you, please.” She asks, so nicely, her normally confident voice breaking. Of course you'll give her what she wants.

You decide she's waited plenty enough, and tug her boxers and pajama bottoms off in one swift motion, discard them in the same corner of your room your shirt is currently residing, and get to work.

Wasting not a second more, you rapidly shove your face in her pussy, latching onto her clit and sucking with fervor. Taking her in your mouth, grazing with the tips of your teeth ever so gently. She squirms beneath you, her knuckles turning white from how hard she's gripping the sheets on either side of her.

Losing yourself in her, nipping and sucking and licking to your heart's content, humming at her taste and purring praises into her, “pretty, pretty pussy” the vibrations from your low voice reverberating through her only making everything more intense. One particularly forceful knock of the tip of your nose to her clit makes her squeal and close her thighs around your head, unfortunately that was much louder than preferable.

Both of you freeze, chests heaving up and down, staring dazed and wide-eyed at the other, and listen through the walls to see if it caused any disturbance, and you shoot a glare at her once confirming it was unnoticed by anyone in your otherwise silent house. Not a rustle was heard, thank goodness. You exhale through a whistle, then warn through your teeth, “One more sound and I'm pushing you right out that window, got it?”

It came out meaner than you'd meant it to, but she accepts and nods meekly, responding in a wobbly voice, “M'sorry, can't help it.” You relax and press kisses on the soft flesh of her inner thighs, before resuming just as before.

You continue devouring her, her toned abs flexing and caving in beautifully, the light slurping and squelching sounds filling the room, all while holding her hips in place, fingers pressing into the shape of her muscles while she arches her back above you and her fist flies to grab onto your hair, with deathly strength. A symphony of choked “guh- uh” left her throat while you lapped up her slippery fluids, sensing her body twitch as her orgasm began to build. She didn't even have to tell you, you knew her body like you knew your own at this point.

Curling your fingers in her once more, tongue never halting its circles around her pulsing bud and a final thrust to her g-spot was enough to push her off the edge, finally.

The rush ripples through her as her whole body seizes and tenses up, she's creaming around your hard-at-work fingers, and you help her ride out the high by licking gently and weakening the pressure until she pushes your head away because it was getting too much. All that with no sound louder than a mere squeak and string of whispers resembling your name and a colorful array of profanities, she had bitten down on her hand so hard her canines had left dents, but otherwise looked so content and at peace. Gasps lessening and breathing steadying to the pace before, a faint smile on her pretty face, and her eyes lazily closed.

Seeing her all satisfied and happy in turn made you happy, and you cuddled on top of her, laying your head on her chest. Her heartbeat was going at such a fast and frantic pace, you loved hearing it slow back to normal.

Adjusting yourself made her wince, still so sensitive from all you did. “Sorry Els. Did so good.” You mumble and lean up to peck the side of her neck as she drapes her arms around your back and rubs in circles, calming the both of you.

She hums contentedly. “Love you.” “Love you too Els.”

You didn't even care about cleaning up or moving or anything of the sort, because being close to her was all that mattered. The last thing she said before falling asleep and kissing you on the top of the head was, “To the moon and back.” And you fell asleep immediately after her, feeling loved and comforted just like whenever you spent time with her, your girlfriend's ideas always turned out well after all.

Now as for the morning, that was a problem for future you to deal with. Were your parents going to barge in your room and throw her out, or was it going to be an awkward conversation? Who cares? Now it was only time to drift off to dreamland together, hand in hand.

And that you did. You disappeared from this reality and into an ethereal dream world just like earlier, only she was there with you. It was eternally euphoric, the two lovers delightfully singing duets with the fairies, skipping into the horizon and climbing up the arcs of glittery rainbows, it was more than you ever hoped for. As if there never was any disagreement to begin with, all issues were solved when you were together with her, your other half.

Now this dream you really wanted to stay in forever, but since that wasn't possible, you vowed to savor and appreciate it, and her, to the fullest.

lol someone sedate meeeeeee. idk how to end these. pikmin :3 IKKK THE ENDING IS RUSHED TOO AAAA whateva.

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hlmowrer · 3 months

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Week 44: I have NEVER seen a BENCH in a WALMART! ...whaaaat??

-Quote Elder Baird, my dear new companion

Greetings, my most esteemed guys and gals.

This week is difficult to describe. Much of it continued like the end of my last letter...soldiering on was very difficult but the Lord sent small victories, good companion bonding, a fun exchange, and some raw patience and endurance my way to help me through it. Honestly, my biggest problem right now is simply finding enough stuff to do to fill the hours of the day. As missionaries we tend to have an attitude of go, go, GO because the work we do is important and we're only here for so long! Unfortunately, deciding what to do on a Thursday afternoon in a rural Michigan county while everyone's at work is not really a high energy task, and creativity is exhausting for me. Elder Baird is adjusting really well though, so at the very least I'm less worried about supporting him than I used to be. I find that the training and counsel he needs are the things I'm well equipped to provide, thus confirming President Peckham's recent response to one of my letters saying "Just listen to what the Lord wants you to do, you're the perfect trainer for this good Elder". I'm so grateful for the Lord's direction in companion assignments...I have never failed to receive exactly the companion and the area I needed to continue growing and doing God's work.

Speaking of that blessing, let me tell you about the lesson I taught yesterday. Actually, let me rewind to the beginning of the transfer 6 weeks ago. My first time knocking with Elder Thornton after my emergency transfer to Fremont (while I was still questioning if an ET would have the same awesome inspired accuracy as a normal transfer) we met a nice young lady who said she'd be down to have us back sometime to talk about God! We asked her for her name, and we were all delighted to discover that she had the same last name as me! Friends....that never happens! Seriously. We happily went on our way, and then over the course of the next few weeks we were repeatedly thwarted in our attempts to meet with her. Eventually contact was lost, and on Saturday night I called her in one last ditch effort to set something up before deactivating her record. Lo and behold, she answered and eagerly agreed to come visit us after church! We were joined by our Relief Society President and proceeded to have an amazingly spiritual lesson about the Holy Spirit, prophets, and the Book of Mormon. When I asked what lead her to want to come visit us, she said that the day we knocked on her door she had been increasingly aware that something was missing spiritually, she had been laid off because of a medical issue, and here comes some random dude with her same name on her door wanting to talk about Jesus Christ! There are no coincidences, folks. There really aren't. God sends us exactly where we need to be if we let Him.

So anyway. Life is still hard, I'm still going to be here for a really long time and that's still a bit of an uncomfortable feeling (though I'm starting to accept that it may never go away), and I'm still watching a lot of people I care about move on with their lives. I watched another mission homecoming this week, and this particular one bit a lot harder than the others. If I've learned anything out here it's that God wasn't kidding when He promised me that I would be led to the people, experiences, and opportunities that I've always dreamed of. Learning to truly trust that has been one of the biggest reasons I needed to come to Michigan I think. Unfortunately, letting go of the past and trusting that God has a plan that is greater than whatever I envisioned once upon a time is not my strong suit.By the way my friend, if someone happens to show you this letter your song was REALLY good, and I am SO proud of you.

But hey, isn't this so great? Isn't it great that I can whine all I want about my inability to predict the future all the while enjoying living a life that I know is sending me straight towards everything I've ever wanted? I'm so blessed to be here you guys, I can't say it enough. I'm being given an opportunity to go about doing good and in doing so fix all the flaws that would have otherwise dogged me forever. I really do love my life, and I love my Savior for giving it to me. And all of you, for everything that each and every one of you has done to get me here.

Until next time <3

-Elder Beren Mowrer

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helloalycia · 3 years

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my patient’s neighbour [one] // wanda maximoff

summary: whilst caring for a new patient of yours, you definitely didn't expect to fall for her cute neighbour, Wanda Maximoff

warning/s: very minor mentions of injuries and death

author's note: okay so firstly, buckle in, folks, this is gonna be like 6 parts long lol. Also, I google translated all the Russian bits so i apologise if they are incorrect! okay, you may enjoy now :)

"38... 38... 38..."

I scanned the doors to the many apartments in the hall, hoping to find the one that belonged to my newest patient – Anna Pivec. As a nurse, I was always given new patients to visit and tend to until they no longer needed it or chose not to have me around. I'd just been assigned a new patient, Anna, and was excited to meet her.

"38!" I said to myself, spotting the door at the end of the hallway. I knocked on before waiting patiently, hoping she wasn't sleeping or anything. It wasn't too early – 10AM – and she knew I was coming, so finger's crossed.

The door opened to reveal a short, old lady with grey hair and a cane in her hand. I smiled kindly, meeting her cloudy gaze.

"You must be the one my granddaughter is paying to look after me because she can't do it herself," the woman spoke before I could introduce myself. Stepping to the side, she motioned with her cane. "Come on in."

My smile dropped at her abruptness. "I, er, yeah, I guess that's me." As I walked in, I said, "My name is Y/N Y/L/N. The nurse from–"

"Yeah, I know where you're from," she cut me off, closing the door and heading further into her apartment. "They sent me a brochure, milaya."

I followed after her, surprised at how quick she was for an old lady with back and heart problems. She was leading me into the open plan living-room and kitchen.

"I'm sorry – milaya? What does that mean?" I asked politely, hoping I didn't come across as rude.

She waved her hand dismissively, mumbling something to herself in what I think was Russian. Her profile did say she was from Sokovia, so maybe that was it.

"Okay, erm, well, as I said," I changed the subject, figuring she wouldn't give me an answer, "I'm Y/N. I'll be here five times a week and basically be doing anything you need me to do. Of course, I only want you to be comfortable in your own home, so if you ever feel anything but, please let me know."

She hummed in acknowledgement before motioning for me to follow her. I set my bag on the kitchen counter before sitting on the couch as she did so on the recliner. She sighed with content as the pain on her back was eased from taking a seat.

"Tell me about yourself," she said gently.

I smiled with amusement. "That's usually what I ask my patients."

"Do forgive me, milaya," she said, and I made a mental note to bring a Russian-English dictionary with me tomorrow, "but you're a stranger in my home. I'd prefer to know about you before I let you take care of me."

I nodded, slightly impressed. Her profile didn't do her justice. Usually, the elderly I cared for were quick to allow me to do my thing, never really questioning who I was or what my intentions were. I was starting to get the impression that Anna was a strong, stubborn woman in a little old lady's body – definitely not one to mess around with.

"Okay, well, I'm a nurse," I began with the basics, and from there, went into a long ramble about my job, how I got into it, what it consisted of...

Anna was full of questions, taking the time to get to know me and I her. Once I had told her everything I could think to, she told me about her life. How she lived in Sokovia up until she was thirty-five years old and had to flee with her husband and daughter because of the war. She gushed about the both of them, a twinkle in her eye as she recalled their livelihoods like they were still alive. Her husband had unfortunately passed many years ago due to liver problems – "All that drinking, milaya! Us Sokovians are a force to be reckoned with!" – and her daughter had passed in a car accident not long after.

It was a tragic tale, but she didn't let it bring her down. In fact, she seemed grateful to have lived it and I couldn't help but smile as she shared it with me.

I noticed she would speak short phrases in Russian mid-conversation, without realising, which didn't make it easier for me to understand, but I couldn't bring it in myself to interrupt her to ask what they meant because she said it with such sincerity that I figured it reminded her of her home.

After our conversation, I made her lunch and gave her her medication before watching some TV with her and pretty much talking to her once again. She was quite an interesting woman, different to my usual patients, and I was enjoying our time together. After spending the day there, I wished her a good night before leaving.

When I returned the next morning, I let myself in with the key Anna gave me and called out a good morning.

"In here!" an unfamiliar female voice called out.

I furrowed my brows as I took off my jacket and headed into the living-area. Anna was sat in her recliner as usual, but she had a guest sat on her couch. A young woman, possibly my age, with long dark hair and a friendly smile on her lips was sat comfortably; she had a cup of tea in her hands and her legs pulled up on the couch like she lived there.

The stranger and Anna exchanged words in Russian briefly before the former stood up, about to introduce herself.

"Oh, are you her granddaughter?" I asked, putting two and two together. It was the only explanation I could think of for how comfortable she was and the fact that she was also Sokovian (I assumed, anyway).

The girl laughed, her green eyes sparkling as she shook her head. Putting out her hand, she said, "I'm Wanda Maximoff. Anna's neighbour."

Slightly embarrassed by my mistake, I smiled awkwardly and shook her hand. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have– I just thought because you were speaking Russian that–"

"It's fine, no harm no foul," she put me at ease quickly, before taking her seat again. "I've lived next door to Anna for about a year now. Sometimes I keep her company on my days off."

I set my bag on the floor before taking a seat on the couch, leaving a gap between Wanda and I.

"That's nice," I said with a smile before looking to Anna. "How are you feeling this morning, Mrs Pivec?"

She sighed, waving her hand dismissively, before saying something to Wanda in Russian who was listening intently. Nodding her head, Wanda looked to me with amusement.

"What did she say?" I asked, quirking a brow.

"She said she told you to stop calling her Mrs Pivec yesterday," Wanda translated, trying not to laugh.

"Just call me Anna, Y/N," Anna added with a nod. "And I'm fine. Just had breakfast with Wanda here."

"Breakfast," I repeated slowly. "How long ago was that? Just gotta make sure you get your meds."

"Shoot, am I doing your job?" Wanda asked, slightly panicked.

"No, no, you're not." I laughed at the way she scrunched her nose. "I mean, it would help if I could have breakfast with Miss– Anna, so I know when she has her medication. But it's all good."

"Are you sure? I can leave if I'm in the way," Wanda said with a frown.

"No need," I reassured her. "If Anna doesn't mind your presence, it's all good. I'm just here to look after her, clean up, make sure she eats, has her meds."

Wanda looked to Anna, who seemed unbothered by her presence.

"She can stay," Anna said with a shrug. "Makes it feel less like I'm a pet."

I opened my mouth to say something, possibly make her feel better, but I wasn't sure what to say.

"Don't mind her," Wanda reassured, giving Anna a knowing look before shooting me an easygoing smile. "She tends to speak her mind exactly as it is. No filter whatsoever. And very stubborn. You may have noticed."

I cracked a smile, feeling better knowing that it wasn't just me who noticed Anna's unique personality traits.

"Hey, that stubbornness and lack of filter is exactly how I beat my husband and his friends in every poker game back home," Anna said with a playful smirk.

Wanda and I chuckled, before the brunette leaned on the couch comfortably and looked to me.

"We finished breakfast, maybe, ten minutes ago? I made us eggs and toast," she answered my question from earlier.

I hummed before getting up with my bag and heading to the kitchen. Setting my bag on the counter, I grabbed my diary and also Anna's medication from its place on the kitchen counter.

"I'll give you your medicine now, Anna," I told her, already grabbing a glass of water for her.

"Thank you, milaya," she called back, and I spun around, immediately going to get my Russian-English dictionary from my bag. "Wait, I know what that is!" I flicked through the pages and scanned it eagerly. "Milaya... milaya... milaya! Okay, it means... sweetie."

"Sweetie," Wanda said at the same time, and I looked up to see her watching me from behind her cup of tea, trying not to laugh again.

"I guess another perk of your presence is being the translator," I said sheepishly, realising just how eager I was a second ago. "Anna likes to speak Russian a lot, which I'm fine with of course, but..." I waved the dictionary in the air.

"It's funny watching tvoye lichiko, milaya," Anna said with that same mischievous smirk on her face.

I looked down to my dictionary, struggling to pinpoint a single word in her sentence that I could search. It was overwhelming, the words going in one ear and out the other.

"She said it's funny watching your little face, sweetie," Wanda translated upon seeing my frozen state.

I relaxed my shoulders. "Thanks." Then I realised what she said. "Hey!"

Anna laughed as Wanda grinned, and I was suddenly glad she was here. I grabbed Anna's meds with a glass of water before giving them to her. After making sure she swallowed them properly, I put the glass to the side and took a seat on the couch again.

"So, you said you visited Anna on your days off?" I asked Wanda, intrigued by why a neighbour would be so interested in another. It wasn't very common in today's day and age.

"She's almost always here," Anna answered before Wanda could speak. I looked to her as she continued with a grateful smile. "Helps me with everything. Groceries, cleaning, my medication."

"So basically me but unpaid," I joked, and Anna laughed.

"Exactly," she agreed, and I looked to Wanda to see her blushing, eyes avoiding mine.

"That's really sweet," I said gently, earning her attention. "You're a really good neighbour, Wanda."

Wanda ran a hand through her hair. "It's nothing. If anything, I enjoy being here. Anna reminds me of Sokovia and my family and, well, home."

"Oh, so you're Sokovian, too?"

She nodded before smiling playfully. "Did the accent not give it away?"

I hid a smile. "I didn't want to assume. I mean, you could've been Czech. Slovakian. Basically anything else."

"Okay, I'll give you that," she gave in, tilting her head to the side, smile widening.

It was then that I learnt her smile was extremely contagious.

Same as yesterday, my plan was to stay the day with Anna, though this time Wanda also kept her company (and me, too). After lunch, I left the two of them to watch some TV as I excused myself to change Anna's bedsheets in her room, ready for bed tonight.

As I was doing so, I heard the door open and glanced over my shoulder to see Wanda entering the room. I gave her a smile before continuing to replace the pillowcase.

"Here, I can help," she offered, and didn't give me chance to decline as she grabbed the pillow on the other side of the bed and began to change its case.

"You sure? You know it's my job, right?" I teased, looking up at her over the bed between us.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm aware. Just thought I'd make it a bit easier for you."

I chuckled. "Well, I appreciate it... how is Anna?"

"Dozed off," Wanda quipped with an expectant nod. "Same time every day. Like clockwork."

"Huh." I thought back to yesterday and how she ended up taking a nap after lunch, too. "Noted. Thanks."

Wanda smiled before putting the pillowcase on the pillow and puffing it with her hands. I did the same, content with its appearance, before moving to the duvet. Wordlessly, Wanda grabbed one end and began to help me put it on, which I appreciated. The duvet was bigger than I was and definitely a two-person job.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" I spoke out of the blue as we were putting on the duvet cover.

"Go for it," she said encouragingly, glancing sideways.

"Of course, you don't have to answer, but I thought I'd ask since I'm going to be looking after Anna for a while," I gave a little disclaimer, before saying, "She makes a lot of snide remarks about her granddaughter. Do they not get along?"

Wanda sighed quietly. "Her granddaughter doesn't really visit her here. She rarely calls."

"Her daughter's kid?"

"The only one," Wanda confirmed. "She keeps her distance, ever since her mum – Anna's daughter – passed. She just pays for, well, you."

I frowned. "That's sad."

"Yeah," Wanda agreed, breathing out.

The two of us spread the duvet over the double bed before I looked to her with a small smile.

"At least she has you," I pointed out. "It's nice you give up your free time to spend it with her."

"Like I said, it's good for me, too," she reminded me, returning the smile.

"So what do you do when you're not here keeping her company?" I asked curiously, moving to Anna's bedside to clear it up a little.

Wanda hid her smile behind a look of confusion. "Do you not– don't you recognise me?"

I quirked a brow, pausing my actions. "Am I supposed to?"

She snickered, shaking her head, eyes falling to the bed with mild disbelief. "I mean, I guess not. I'm–" She chuckled, looking to my confused face. "I'm one of the Avengers."

I studied her, her words not quite settling in. But when they did, I realised I actually recognised her and she was one of the Avengers.

"Oh my God!" I blurted, the penny finally dropping. "The one with the weird red energy powers! I mean– not weird but– the magic!"

She stifled laughter, nodding her head. Just like her smile, her laughter was contagious, too.

"Yeah, that's me," she confirmed.

I made a weird motion with my free hand, like I'd seen her do on TV when saving the day. "Does Anna know about your y'know?"

Wanda crossed her arms, raising a brow and watching me with a humoured gaze. "Is that supposed to be my powers?"

I stopped making the motion and felt my neck heating up. "I– yeah."

Laughter spilled from her lips yet again, automatically making me smile. I didn't mind that I'd made a fool of myself all of a sudden.

"Anna knows, yes," Wanda said with a bright smile. "She actually recognised me straight away. Much quicker than you. And she's eighty."

Waving my hand to distract from my flushed cheeks, I said, "Pfft, she probably confused you with someone else and played along when you told her who you were."

"Yeah, I'm sure that was it, ty milyy maneken," she retorted with her piercing gaze.

"No fair, my dictionary is in the other room," I said with a pout, and she only laughed even more.

"Guess you'll never know," she teased with a smirk, making me roll my eyes to distract from the way it made me feel when she stared at me like that.

It was much later on when I learnt that she had called me 'a cute dummy'. And that was the beautiful start to Wanda and I's introduction into each other's lives.

—

From then onwards, about eighty percent of the time I would go to care for Anna, Wanda was present, too and I didn't mind one bit. Not only did she keep Anna company, but she made my job a lot easier whilst keeping me company as well.

I was beginning to look forward to seeing her whenever I would open the door. Whether she was cleaning something up, playing board games with Anna or simply having a tidy up around the apartment, she'd always stop what she was doing and help me with whatever was in my hands as she greeted me at the door. It was adorable. She was adorable.

The few times she wasn't present because of work only made me miss her, the apartment feeling emptier than usual. Even Anna agreed, the two of us making up for the lack of the Sokovian girl's presence by distracting ourselves with other activities.

I was convinced Anna was warming up to me as she freely let me care for her without resistance. Obviously, she wouldn't be Anna if she didn't throw funny remarks my way or speak to me in Russian, knowing I didn't understand her, but it was tolerable. And I was liking her, too; she was easily becoming one of the best patients I cared for. There was just so much personality to her that I couldn't help but smile whenever I spoke to her.

One time, I was helping Anna out at her place when Wanda wasn't present. I was leading her into her bed when I decided now was a better time than ever to ask her about her birthday on Sunday, which I knew was then because of her file.

"So, I'll be seeing you in two days next," I told her as I pulled the duvet over her. "And a little birdie told me it's your birthday then. Eighty-one, Anna! That's amazing!"

She smiled but seemed embarrassed that I knew.

"Tell me what you want and I can make it happen," I said promisingly, smiling down at her.

She waved her hand. "I don't want anything, milaya (sweetie). Your presence is enough."

I chuckled. "As sweet as that is, I know everybody wants something for their birthday. Now please, Anna. What can I do to make the day a bit more special?"

She pondered my question momentarily and I waited for her to speak, hoping it was something doable.

"I would love to have a traditional Sokovian meal," she said reluctantly. "It's been a long time."

I breathed out quietly, patting her hand gently. "I can do that, Anna. Don't you worry."

She smiled genuinely, before shooing me away. "Okay, enough sappiness, ty mozhesh' uyti seychas (you can leave now)."

I laughed, standing up and dusting my pants off. I only knew what that phrase meant because she said it almost every time before my shift ended and I left for the day. I knew she didn't mean it as harshly as it sounded.

"I'm going, I'm going," I said, already heading to the door. "I'll see you Sunday, birthday girl."

She groaned quietly, making me grin, before I double checked everything was okay in the living-area and grabbed my stuff to leave.

As easy of a request that it was, I knew absolutely nothing about cooking a traditional Sokovian meal. But I knew of one person who did and instantly headed to Wanda's apartment next door to see if she was home.

With a quick knock, I waited patiently. I wasn't sure if she was even home since she hadn't visited Anna today and she usually did so if she was. When I was beginning to think she wasn't, I told myself I could Google a recipe and put something together, but then the door opened and revealed a tired-looking Wanda.

"Y/N," she said with surprise, but a friendly smile was on her lips nonetheless.

"Hey, I'm so sorry to disturb you this late, but I wanted to ask– wait, what happened to your face?" I stopped speaking and lost my own smile when I noticed the faint scratches and bruises dusting her skin.

"Oh, it's nothing–" she started, raising her hand, fingers wavering over her head, but I cut her off.

"Shit, Wanda, what happened?" I reached out, taking her hand in mine and studying the cast that was around her wrist. Concerned frown on my lips, I glanced up at her. "Are you okay?"

"It's fine, Y/N," she tried to reassure, but I couldn't help it as my worry got the better of me and I studied the cuts on her cheek. "I just came back from a mission. Minor injuries. Honestly."

I let go of her hand, realising I was still holding it, and nodded slightly. "Right..." Realising she must have been exhausted, I awkwardly stepped back and shook my head with realisation. "Sorry, I should go. I didn't mean to bot–"

"You were saying something," she interrupted, nodding encouragingly. "You wanted to ask me something. What is it?"

I paused, nodding. Admittedly, I was still worried about the bruises on her forehead. I knew she was an Avenger and this was probably the norm for her, but to me, it looked like she'd just got mugged. And the irregularity of that worried me.

"Yeah, I was saying," I finally found my words, trying to ignore the way her tired eyes peered at me hopefully. "It's Anna's birthday on Sunday and she wants to have a traditional Sokovian meal to celebrate. The only problem is, I don't know what that is." Wanda cracked a smile as I continued. "Do you, maybe, have a recipe I could use?"

"Of course," she said before motioning for me to follow her. "Come on in."

I followed after her, closing the door behind me, and stopped at the kitchen counter patiently. As she searched for a notebook in her drawer, I subtly glanced around, taking in the inside of Wanda's apartment. I'd never actually been in it before, but the minimal décor was very her. She didn't have many knickknacks and everything on display served a purpose.

"There's some recipes in here," she said, grabbing my attention. She slid the notebook across the counter and leaned forward with a smile. "Take your pick."

I flicked through it briefly, smiling at the notebook filled with recipes, all in Wanda's neat, cursive handwriting.

"Thank you," I said gratefully, looking up and catching her staring.

She perked up, clearing her throat as she nodded in response before looking the other way. Cute.

"Are you working on Sunday?" I asked with a raised brow, before rolling my eyes playfully. "What am I saying? Of course you're not. Not with that wrist."

She chuckled, still avoiding my eyes. "I'm not."

"Well, why don't you come over for her birthday? You can help me cook her a meal. Or rather, I can help you cook it since I'll probably screw it up."

Finally meeting my eyes, she smiled with amusement. "Are you sure?"

I gave her a knowing look, ignoring the butterflies swirling in my stomach as she held my gaze with her intense dark eyes. "Yes, I'm sure. Anna will love to celebrate with you. And..." I pursed my lips, taking a leap of faith and adding, "and I'd love it, too."

Wanda let out a quiet laugh. "You would, would you?"

I straightened up, smile widening. "Yeah, I would."

She tilted her head, studying me with a curious smile. "Well then, I clearly can't say no."

Something stirred in my chest the longer she watched me and I oddly liked it. It was obvious that Wanda was a beautiful girl with a heart of gold, but I guess I hadn't really acknowledged that I may have had feelings for her until now. And I didn't mind one bit.

"Great," I finally found my words, nodding slightly. "I'll see you Sunday."

She mirrored my expression, saying, "See you Sunday," and I knew I couldn't wait until then.

#wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff x you #marvel #mcu #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #elizabeth olsen imagine

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ramp-it-up · 3 years

Text

Fresh Squeeze, Ch. 5

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x OFC Linden Marshall

Set in 2023, post-pandemic

Warnings: Cursing, Angsty Angst, drug and alcohol use, surprise flights, Anthony Ramos. Lots of Plot.

Word Count: 3.5 K

Plot: Linden Marshall just finished law school at Columbia University in NYC. Daveed Diggs is still creating magic with his platonic life partner Rafael Casal in the form of their Blindspotting musical, Bay Boys. Linden’s boyfriend WAS Mark Monaco, star of the superhero movie series Invincible. They were together for years, and her trauma and his addictions were toxic. She knows now that wasn’t love.

A/N: Keep in mind that this the same AU as Arrivals, with Holly Woods, but is BEFORE Rafa and Holly get together. And don’t come for me about Anthony.

Read the Previous Chapter.

===================

NYC, May 2023

Jasmine was blowing up your phone as you were trying to get dressed. You had to search for it under the pile of clothes on your bed.

You had procrastinated getting ready, trying to finish one of your applications for a summer internship at this law firm in Harlem that you were excited about.

You wanted to finally relax after finishing Columbia law in the top 10% of your class. You just wanted to relax and enjoy this weekend.

Craig, your mom and your uncle were the only ones to attend your graduation. They knew you didn’t want any fanfare, so your famous friends didn’t attend, and they had a show to do, but they’d sent you tons of well wishes.

We're coming up, get decent!

You chuckled and shook your head. Anthony usually raided the refrigerator when he came over. This time, you told him to bring his own snacks..

You slipped on what you were wearing for the night. Craig was in his room getting ready and you had volunteered his place, so you were playing hostess. You were surprised that he was so chill about it, actually.

“Pika Pika,” you said to yourself in the mirror then ran to answer the doorbell. It was almost 6 pm.

You opened the door for Cookie Monster and Big Bird. You burst out laughing. But you stopped when you saw Anthony's face. He had like five bags from Whole Foods that he was juggling in his blue arms.

"Jazzy!!!! There's my girl. Hey Ant! leave the food and your girl. We may run off together."

Anthony came in the door loaded down with bags and kissed you on the cheek.

“I love you Lindy, but fuck you man.” You punched him on the shoulder.

“Ow! Time to get this party started!”

Linden heard Jazzy’s Brooklyn accent turn into a London lilt as she started play fighting with Ant. They felt like family at this point.

=================

Ever since the launch party in January, Jasmine had pursued you as a friend persistently. You normally didn’t let anyone in because of the circumstances of your life, but Jas was oblivious to your awkwardness with normal human beings.

“Girl, you are fucking DOPE, and you are NOT gonna deny my love. I know your life has been a trip, and you don’t have to tell me all of it, but I’m not gonna let you shrivel up and be a little retiring wallflower. Life is to be lived.”

Jasmine telling you that during a Saturday brunch date in February was the key to your heart. She drew you out, and you didn’t see what value you added to her life.

But she loved you anyway. And you loved her, and of course, Anthony was part of the package.

He was beautiful, loud, talented, and reckless, but he reminded you too fucking much of Dell to be annoyed with him very long.

Your circle had certainly widened from just Craig. That was one thing for which you could thank Mark. You were working on him being a distant memory. He hadn’t lasted too long in Bay Boys, quitting soon after the musical opened in March.

Daveed’s hands and feet had ‘slipped’ one too many times during the scene when he was stomping his ass on stage. Mark cited health reasons, and publicly spiraled a bit. He was currently in rehab.

Again.

You had not heard from him and that was absolutely fine with you.

Because Jasmine was in Bay Boys and that was her life, the cast and crew became yours as well. Rafael was the type of chaotic creative genius that fascinated you; you could listen to him talk for hours.

Things with Daveed were more tricky. Ever since that awkwardness with him after the launch party, you’d kept your distance, but you hung out a lot, so you were trying to be friends.

When you and Jas and Ant and Rafa hung out and talked, Daveed was there, smiling shyly and sneaking glances at you, throwing in pearls of wisdom every so often.

He was so dope and so talented and intelligent and so freaking hot, but you were trying to get yourself together. You were convinced that night in January had been a mistake.

You needed some space. And time. Law school was no joke, and you were in therapy so entanglements was not what was up.

Daveed sensed your hesitancy and decided to stop pursuing you. But he couldn’t stop how he felt.

You were both a little wasted and keyed up the night of the launch party, and despite the way you were beautiful and intelligent and sexy as fucking hell, he was not going to press you.

Daveed was sure that you two could be something special if you would give it a chance, but he didn’t want to chase you, but he was so gone for you, that if you just nodded your head at him, he would be at your feet.

The attraction was undeniable. There was a crazy little dance you two did that everyone recognized and respected. This group seemed to know you were fragile, and that you didn’t need to be pushed too far.

But the more they persisted, the more you came out of your shell. The more you trusted, the more the old Lindy came back.

Craig noticed first soon after you started hanging with the crew when you were trying to find a place to live. He went to one showing with you and sat you down for a talk.

“Girl, I love the light in your eyes. I haven’t seen this Lindy since…well in a long time. Stay with me for as long as you want. I know you need to get through this last semester of school, you don’t need one more thing to think about. I’m proud of the work that you’re doing on yourself, Linden.”

You were grateful to Craig. His place on the Upper West Side was super convenient to Columbia, and not having to think about finding a place was so clutch. Third year was kicking your ass.

“Besides, I wouldn’t have this place if it wasn’t for…”

“Hush, I don’t want to hear that. Dell would have wanted this. I love you cuzzo.”

=================

Craig came out in a Sully onesie and immediately dragged Jasmine into a conversation about the Met Gala that had happened a few days ago.

You approached the kitchen where Ant stood, food all around him on the counter. You were whispering. He smiled a secret smile at you.

“I’m so proud of you doing this for Jasmine. It’s good for you all to get away. I’m glad that she got a little break. She deserves it all.”

Anthony had arranged for this little get together to be a surprise for Jasmine. This was going to be a kickback weekend.

The show was on a four day hiatus while the set was moved to a bigger theatre. It was a hit and was destined for a long run.

Ant’s green eyes lit up as you kept talking about Jasmine.

“Yeah, she does. And the woman of the hour deserves all the happiness in the world.” He lifted his beer to you.

They way he said that was weird and you were about to ask him what was up with that when the doorbell started ringing, you went to answer it and were stuck there for a few minutes as people started coming in.

The food and the drinks were flowing while all kinds of characters came in.

Now they also had Jack Skellingtom, and a Care Bear in the house to add to Big bird, Cookie Monster, Pikachu and Sully. It was an odd cast of characters who were jamming to 90's rap, eating chicken wings and basically tripping like only friends could do.

Then there was Toni, some tag-along chick who showed up with Rafa. She had on a plain gray onesie. What a downer.

You’d pegged her for a star fucker who only hung with Rafa because of who he and his friends were. The girl was too much in everyone's business.

"Sooooo. You and Mark ARE broken up for real for real. The tabloids say y’all are back together! I told my friend Susie you weren’t, but she wouldn't believe me."

You just smiled and didn't confirm or deny, treating Toni like the paparazzi. The girl was oblivious to your hate and just kept talking.

Daveed rescued you.

"Hey, Toni, show these folks how you can blow. They're setting up the karaoke machine over there. Show us what you're working with. Someone might hook you up with a gig."

Toni perked up and hurried over to Anthony and Craig, who were setting up the lyrics on the big screen to match the karaoke music. Some Bad Boy joints were up.

Rafa was behind them screaming, "Dylan, Dylan, Dylan!"

They were a scene. You breathed and relaxed a little.

"Don't stress. She's not coming with us to the island."

You looked up at the tall, fine Grumpy Care Bear who was nursing some of your special 18-year-old Chivas Regal that you had gotten for graduation. His beautiful smile shined out of his brown face and beneath the curls tumbling out of his hood.

“I’m not pressed. I’m chilling. You can do what you want. With who you want.”

“She’s not with me. Rafa brought her for the ride to the airport. And it’s not entirely true that I can do what I want. With who I want. Because what if who I want to do doesn’t want to do me?”

You knew what he meant. But you eyed his drink instead of looking at him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him. That was far from the truth. You didn’t want to get lost in him. And you could see that happening.

Daveed saw your wheels turning. You were over analyzing again. He’d spent three months observing you every chance he got. He felt like he knew your anxieties. So fucking smart, but here you were thinking too much.

"Hey Genuis Ass. Want some?" Daveed’s voice was softer as he grinned and offered you some of his drink. “Or, I could go make you something?” For some reason he wanted you to get loose.

"Nah, I'm good Diggs.” For some reason you needed to stay in control. You played it off by changing the subject.

“I still can’t believe y’all call me that.”

Daveed just smiled and nodded, chuckling a little. He craned his neck and looked at it, having to dodge a smack upside the head.

“That ass is genius, you know. That’s the one thing He Who Shall Not Be Named was right about. And you’re one of the smartest humans I know.”

You had to look at him then. The flecks of gold in his eyes tho. But you could tell from the slight redness that he was a little zooted. He didn’t get that way around you a lot, but you knew for the stories that he partied occasionally.

He and Rafa and that Toni chick must have pre-gamed. You remembered the last time you two were tipsy together.You cleared your throat and looked away.

“Why did you lie to that girl? She can’t sing.” You were shaking your head, scowling at Toni’s screeching from the karaoke machine.

He winked at you. D was well on his way to getting LIT.

"What? She can blow.” Daveed sipped his drink and watched her.

“She’ll suck your soul out and spit it back in your mouth." Daveed was loose. And so was his mouth. But he didn’t care.

Your mouth was hanging open at Daveed as you wondered what Daveed had done with Toni, what Daveed AND Rafa had done with Toni...

Shit, you were just going to ask.

"How do you know that she..."

"AWWWW SHEEEIIIITTT! THAT'S MY JAM! REMEMBER THIS LINDY??"

“No, I was like, negative 5..”

You raised your voice as he traveled away from you, smiling. He was not slick.

“Well you missed out being tardy to the party…”

He was backing toward the mic, knocking it out of Anthony’s hand and starting the rap. Rafa joined him, trading verses.

Now as the record spins around, you recognize this sound,

Well, it's the underground,

You know that we're down with wutchyalike

Yeah, with wutchyalike, yeah

And though we're usually on the serious tip, check it out:

Tonight we're gonna flip and trip and let it all hang out tonight,

We're gonna say what we like.

'Cause, yo, yo, we want to know how many people in the flow,

Would like to just let yourselves go

And doowutchyalike,

Yeah, well tonight's your night.

Just eat food, try not to be crude or rude,

Kill the attitude, chill the serious mood,

And doowutchyalike,

Yeah, and doowutchyalike,

Everybody doowutchyalike

Everyone was dancing and Daveed had effectively deflected your question. But you would never forget.

By 8 o’clock, Craig grabbed the mic and motioned for Jasmine to come with him. You had enjoyed some cocktails finally, and just figured they were going to duet Wind Beneath My Wings just like they always did.

You were actually moving to the music and feeling good.

"Ok guys, whew. I'm hot. Is it hot in herrrre?" Craig was fanning himself.

“Whoooo! Nelly!”

You yelled and everyone laughed.

Craig took his hood off and started to unzip his onesie. Jasmine did the same.

You kept dancing nervously, not realizing it, looking around at the others who were also disrobing. You did a double take as D’s abs came into view. What was going on?

Craig continued.

"Lindy, I just need a minute to talk, can you stop whatever it is you're doing?" He grinned at you from across the room. "You're still moving Lindy."

You blushed and stopped fidgeting.

"Ummm, Craig, what the..."

One by one people dropped their onesies, all except Toni, who had no clue what was going on. Soon, everyone was standing in Craig’s condo in their swimsuits, looking fine as hell.

You just looked around, then in your cup wondering if you were too drunk and hallucinating.

“Lindy, you’ve worked real hard, and this past few months have been crazy, so we wanted to do something special for you this weekend, for your graduation, and for your birthday, WHICH IS SUNDAY!!”

Everyone cheered as Jasmine took the mic. “You think this party is for me. Well the joke’s on you bitch, because you have been hosting your own party!”

You opened your mouth, squeaked a little, then spoke,

"But why?.. Everybody? But what..."

Daveed moved close.

"Damn, you fine," you whispered.

Your hand flew to your mouth when he smirked in response. Everyone was rolling because turns out, you didn’t whisper.

Daveed cleared his throat. "Thank you. You’re fine yaseif. Anyway, Anthony and Jasmine have a house there, and we’re flying out of JFK tonight. In about two and a half hours in fact. So we gotta get going.”

You still had only a part of a clue of what was going on. But you couldn't resist all of this.

"Okay? But... I don't have any clothes. And I don’t have a ticket..."

Craig came from the storage room off the kitchen with one of your suitcases. Others started getting their bags as well

"Everybody's shit has been in my house for a week. And girl, you know I got your information. It ain’t nothing but a thang. Your ticket is ready and waiting. Just sent it to your email.”

Your mouth dropped open and you stared at Craig as everyone pulled their onesies back up and got their bags together.

Your eyes filled with tears that you hurriedly brushed away. Craig came over and hugged you. Then every else joined in for a group hug.

"You deserve, Lindy. Let us celebrate you."

You looked like you didn't quite believe it, but you went along. You laughed, visibly deciding to go with the flow.

"I'm down!"

Toni was nearby. When the hug broke up, she started asking questions. Your patience was wearing thin.

"I don’t believe that all these people really roll like this. Y’all wild. Susie won that bet."

You just continued to look at this fool.

"But isn’t this dope? All these famous, successful men being so fearless with their love and appreciation for Black women, of all people. Who woulda thunk they didn't want white women?"

Toni just kept saying the wrong thing. It was the "of all people" for you.

You stared daggers at your houseguest. Toni caught the look.

"Wait, are you mixed?"

You narrowed your eyes and said, "Black mixed with Black."

Toni clutched her pearls.

"Oh wow. Didn't mean to offend. I just mean everyone knows Jasmine is mixed, with her dad and all, as black as can be. But her white British mom saved her from his skin tone. I mean, she has braids in now, so you can see it, but all she has to do is blow her hair straight and she can pass..."

Toni jumped when Rafa spoke. She didn't know he was there.

"Toni. Not Jas. She's the homie."

The look in his ice blue eyes could burn.

"And you are a Black woman, so you know how dope they are. Why would anyone NOT worship at your feet?"

Lindy just sipped her drink as Craig entered the chat. "Amen!"

"Maybe it is time for you to get going, honey. I might call you when I get back."

Rafa led Toni to the door as she protested.

"But I was going to take you to the air..."

"And I APPRECIATE you Black woman, but we'll get there. See you later."

Then Rafa shut the door in her face. Linden discovered she loved him eternally at that moment. She was rolling.

No one mourned Toni’s departure as arrangements were made for cars to take everyone to the airport.

"You and Daveed can ride with us, Rafa." Ant to the rescue.

"Yeah, Jasmine loves to look at my profile." Jas pinched him so hard he jumped.

“Fuck!”

Ant was screaming as he, Jasmine and Rafa went out the door.

"Peace! See you at airport security. If you get nabbed by TSA, you on your own!”

Daveed lingered. “I don’t know if all of us and our bags will fit in one car. Can I ride with you and Lindy, Craig?”

Craig smirked at Daveed, but didn’t say anything. “Of course...you good with that Lindy?”

You tried to keep it light.

“Sure.. no biggie,” you cleared your throat and headed to the bathroom to make sure you had everything you needed.

=================

By the time you got to your Uber, the traffic was horrible. It took over an hour to get to the airport. You felt both anxious about missing the flight and keyed up about sitting next to Daveed in the car.

His thigh and side pressing into yours in the dark in the back of an Uber Black brought back memories of that reckless night.

When he put his arm up on the seat behind you, “For more room,” he said, in that voice and flashing that megawatt smile, you were enveloped more into his scent and warmth. You had to control yourself not to melt into him.

Craig was sitting on his phone, sneaking glances at you and smirking the entire ride. He’d insisted that you be in the middle because you were so tiny.

The whole world was against you, you thought, as you and Daveed both stared straight ahead, both flashing back to that January night.

You were the last three people to run through the airline gate just at they were about to close it. All your friends in first class cheered when you took their seats, and Rafa popped a bottle of champagne.

"Talk about cutting it close," Ant commented as Rafa gave Daveed a high five.

Daveed looked at you. You shook your head at him. Somehow, you were sitting next to him. You just decided to let it be and have some time.

“Just make sure you don’t molest me under this blanket, Ms. Marshall,” Daveed intoned when you were settled and given amenities for the night.

The flight attendant had to tell y’all to keep quiet as the cat calls went up.

Welp, you thought. This will be the vibe the entire weekend.

You weren’t mad at it. You loved these people. And you were safe. You just smiled, settled down, and looked out of the window to watch the lights of New York fade away.

=================

Read the next chapter

Thanks for liking, reblogging, and commenting.

Tagging: @braidedchallah @einfachniemand @sillyteecup @commandersmiley @ohsoverykeri-blog @theselilwonders @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @ivycomet @lonelydance @jbrizzywrites @id-do-it-for-free-babe

#Daveed Diggs #daveed x reader #daveed diggs x black reader #daveed diggs x ofc reader #Daveed diggs x ofc black reader #daveed diggs x you #daveed diggs imagine #daveed diggs angst #daveed diggs fluff #anthony ramos #jasmine cephas jones #Rafael Casal #Hamilfam #blindspotting #Daveed x Linden

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wanderingguest · 2 years

Text

I posted 1,362 times in 2021

663 posts created (49%)

699 posts reblogged (51%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 1.1 posts.

I added 1,668 tags in 2021

#( .ic interactions ) - 449 posts

#( .mun ) - 315 posts

#( c. anna howard ) - 207 posts

#( c. steve rogers ) - 164 posts

#( .omnipath verse ) - 155 posts

#( .ic meme ) - 108 posts

#( v. a new animal ) - 75 posts

#( .ahv1 ) - 68 posts

#( .psa ) - 66 posts

#multiwrites - 61 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#(i'm gonna write with the couple of folks that want her for the next few days and stop being so hard on myself for wanting to write her)

My Top Posts in 2021

i’ve been thinking a lot about the fatws finale and what they did with karli.

as much as i love the show, and god knows i do, the fact that they killed the black woman (erin’s father is jamaican) while giving the white guy (WHO LITERALLY BRUTALLY CHOPPED OFF A MAN’S HEAD) redemption (don’t come at me with but hydra, because he still got to “do better”) was fucking gross. especially in a season that was literally about race.

at any rate, in any verse that i write sam or bucky, karli survived being shot. and sam is working to rehabilitate her/show her a better way. because she 100% deserved better.

also, sam is no dummy. he’s not cool with sharon having shot karli. and he is 110% suspicious of her motives. because karli wasn’t actually going to shoot him (and, anyway, it wouldn’t have killed him because HI THE SUIT IS WAKANDAN). so, yeah, he’s extremely suspicious of sharon and, while he got her the pardon, he is keeping a close eye on her. he also very much shares that suspicion with bucky, because he and bucky are a team.

15 notes • Posted 2021-04-27 05:28:34 GMT

okay, y’all, i’m gonna get to drafts and asks this week, because i’m finally feeling back up to snuff.

for tonight, like this for something short.

please tell me who you want, otherwise i’ll default to steve, bucky, sam, or anna.

15 notes • Posted 2021-04-26 01:29:07 GMT

like this for something short from steve!

19 notes • Posted 2021-06-15 00:05:42 GMT

+ @multistoty sent: 💋 (Multistoty, from Jamie if that’s okay) get some smooches from a muse / accepting

As a general rule, Anna kept her emotions in check. More than once in her life, she’d been called unflappable. Of course, she’d also been called a cold bitch, but that was neither here nor there. Because she wasn’t unflappable and this situation? More than proved it. While she’d kept herself together for the most part, face to face with a man who positively oozed evil, when she’d found herself on the floor, a boot connecting several times over with her middle, the facade began to crack. Why hadn’t she used her abilities? The answer was obvious, of course. She could survive a beating, but she had no desire to be burned as a witch. Which was why she allowed the pain to lance through her, even felt tears burn paths along her cheeks. And she’d felt unrelenting relief as the elder MacKenzie became a brief knight in shining armor. Dougal had his moments, even if he could make her as uncomfortable as grateful.

Through it all, however, remained a single thought. She needed to see Jamie again. Whatever plans the other man had, she hardly listened, barely cared. She’d made a vow as she’d laid on that floor, taken blow after blow. A vow that she fully intended to keep, so matter how much her body ached. And, after riding roughly for their encampment, it had hurt more than she could have imagined. None of that stopped her from the way she whipped herself off of the horse as soon as it stopped. Nor did it stop her from rustling up skirts and making a beeline for the redhead. Before he could speak a word, fingers were curled in his vest and jerked down. The kiss wasn’t gentle, and she would be angry at herself over that later, but it was as desperate as she felt. As needy. It mattered little to her that others were around, and it mattered even less that it might do besmirch what little reputation she had built. “I thought I might never see you again,” she murmured when lips parted, “I believed I might die and the only thing I could think of was seeing your face again.”

20 notes • Posted 2021-11-20 04:47:01 GMT

+ open

“Why does everyone think I’m sexually repressed? No, really. Why?”

25 notes • Posted 2021-03-21 23:00:08 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #( .mun )#(my number one post is steve)#(because of course it is)

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lesbiansforboromir · 4 years

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Its been too long since I read the books and last time I saw the movies I was on denethor is a dick to my baby, let the man die. However, now I'm curious, since I remembered for instance that in the books he was devastated when he thought faramir died and your last reblog about that made me rethink my whole stance. Could you give me more positive denethor moments, or do I have to read the books again?

God I- I need so much for you all to understand how much I love asks like this, for PURELY selfish reasons, I just LOVE the idea of people like... doing what I do! Which is think about lotr and it’s characters and consider them in new angles and have fun with that! I feel connection and love in this chili’s tonight- ANYWAY.

To be clear, Denethor is one of my favourite characters, like JUST below Boromir in how much I love him and how furious I am with his portrayal in the films. I have a tag for him here that has a lot of good posts all about it. But positive moments for Denethor, yes ok! Lets start with my favourite quote from Denethor because it completely encompasses his- literally his ENTIRE book character;

In what is left, let all who fight the Enemy in their fashion be at one, and keep hope while they may, and after hope still the hardihood to die free.

Do you feel all the love and pride in his people and all the folk of middle earth who’re resisting this seemingly impossible threat? Even unto their inevitable end? Do you see the inherent belief that this is an unwinnable war, and yet how Denethor has remained Gondor’s greatest and most stalwart defender for all these years? GOD I do- ‘dying free’ is a VERY important sentiment that also puts a lot of his later, seemingly ‘mad’, actions into a much more understandable light. BUT I WILL TRY to not make this too much of a dissertation, god willing. SO! Onto Pippin’s swearing!

'Little service, no doubt, will so great a lord of Men think to find in a hobbit, a halfling from the northern Shire; yet such as it is, I will offer it, in payment of my debt.' Twitching aside his grey cloak, Pippin drew forth his small sword and laid it at Denethor's feet.

A pale smile, like a gleam of cold sun on a winter's evening, passed over the old man's face; but he bent his head and held out his hand, laying the shards of the horn aside. 'Give me the weapon!' he said. Pippin lifted it and presented the hilt to him. 'Whence came this?' said Denethor. 'Many, many years lie on it. Surely this is a blade wrought by our own kindred in the North in the deep past?'

'It came out of the mounds that lie on the borders of my country,' said Pippin. 'But only evil wights dwell there now, and I will not willingly tell more of them.'

'I see that strange tales are woven about you,' said Denethor, 'and once again it is shown that looks may belie the man – or the halfling. I accept your service. For you are not daunted by words; and you have courteous speech, strange though the sound of it may be to us in the South. And we shall have need of all folk of courtesy, be they great or small, in the days to come.’

The film really had no idea what to do with Pippin offering his service to Denethor as- well essentially an acknowledgement and an honouring of Boromir’s sacrifice for him. Because the Denethor in the film would have scorned it, but it’s an important plot point, so it’s just kinda in there awkwardly and uncomfortably. This is because Denethor genuinely appreciates Pippin’s gesture, his son died for this hobbit! But Pippin is fervent and honest and Denethor can tell! Denethor is grateful, he empathises! These are not traits film!denethor possessed, so we get the.... tomato... scene.... BUT ONWARDS, I consider this a positive scene, simply because Denethor and Gandalf’s rivalry in the books is just so much FUNNIER and interesting than in the films;

'And you, my Lord Mithrandir, shall come too, as and when you will. None shall hinder your coming to me at any time, save only in my brief hours of sleep. Let your wrath at an old man's folly run off and then return to my comfort!'

'Folly?' said Gandalf. 'Nay, my lord, when you are a dotard you will die. You can use even your grief as a cloak. Do you think that I do not understand your purpose in questioning for an hour one who knows the least, while I sit by?'

'If you understand it, then be content,' returned Denethor. 'Pride would be folly that disdained help and counsel at need; but you deal out such gifts according to your own designs. Yet the Lord of Gondor is not to be made the tool of other men's purposes, however worthy. And to him there is no purpose higher in the world as it now stands than the good of Gondor; and the rule of Gondor, my lord, is mine and no other man's, unless the king should come again.'

LIKE. IT’S FUNNY! Essentially Denethor’s like ‘oh ho I’m just an auld man dont be angry with me Gandy’ and Gandalf’s like ‘Denethor when you are ENFEEBLED by age you will DIE out of spite alone’ and Denethor’s like ‘OH FINE if you want to be that way, but you’re bloody annoying to deal with and I don’t TRUST you wholly so DEAL with it,’ And again we get Denethor’s like whole deal! Gondor is what he is here to defend! It’s his entire purpose in life! He doesn’t trust that Gandalf’s not going to use him for his own ends to the detriment of Gondor itself, which Gandalf LITERALLY admits he’d do in the next paragraph. Because he says ‘he’s the steward of everything, not just gondor’ which on the one hand is like, yeah, we get that, but you can understand Denethor’s perspective too. WHICH IS. GOOD CHARACTERISATION FOLKS!

'[Osgiliath] was 'It was a city,' said Beregond, 'the chief city of Gondor, of which this was only a fortress. For that is the ruin of Osgiliath on either side of Anduin, which our enemies took and burned long ago. Yet we won it back in the days of the youth of Denethor: not to dwell in, but to hold as an outpost, and to rebuild the bridge for the passage of our arms.a city,' said Beregond, 'the chief city of Gondor, of which this was only a fortress. For that is the ruin of Osgiliath on either side of Anduin, which our enemies took and burned long ago. Yet we won it back in the days of the youth of Denethor: not to dwell in, but to hold as an outpost, and to rebuild the bridge for the passage of our arms.’

This is just like a little thing but I think it’s just kinda important to emphasise that Denethor wasn’t just a politician, he bled heavily for Gondor’s safety too and the retaking of Osgiliath was an incredibly important victory that Denethor achieved for Gondor’s safety as a whole. Anyway SPEAKING of the tomato scene- god this really does entirely emphasise the difference between Film!Denethor and Book!Denethor;

‘Can you sing?'

Yes,' said Pippin. 'Well, yes, well enough for my own people. But we have no songs fit for great halls and evil times, lord. We seldom sing of anything more terrible than wind or rain. And most of my songs are about things that make us laugh; or about food and drink, of course.'

'And why should such songs be unfit for my halls, or for such hours as these? We who have lived long under the Shadow may surely listen to echoes from a land untroubled by it? Then we may feel that our vigil was not fruitless, though it may have been thankless.'

In the end Pipping doesn’t sing for him but like?? Look SEE LIKE. It’s not MEAN, Denethor is in general sardonic and kinda harsh and frustrating in tone but he’s not dismissive or uncharitable or heartless; he’s interested, he likes TALKING to Pippin, he likes to hear about the world! Songs about food and drink and weather are fine! Of course they have merit!

'Not – the Dark Lord?' cried Pippin, forgetting his place in his terror. Denethor laughed bitterly. 'Nay, not yet, Master Peregrin! He will not come save only to triumph over me when all is won. He uses others as his weapons. So do all great lords, if they are wise, Master Halfling. Or why should I sit here in my tower and think, and watch, and wait, spending even my sons? For I can still wield a brand.'

Do you hEAR the bitterness in these lines? How he has to SIT here and WAIT as he sends his loved ones to die- but he has too, he HAS to do this, it’s not new, he’s been sending his sons to their probably deaths for years, and god he wishes he could be a reckless man and just ride out himself again but there IS no one to step into his place if he should be lost and Gondor just can’t take that! IT’S cOMPELLING. And so... now we’ll end on the part you mentioned, which really is like... AGONISING, it’s heartbreaking, especially after Denethor’s manners and character up until this point, sharp, sardonic, dauntless, uncowed by ever new loss, every new defeat, Boromir’s death even did not crack him completely but now-

And as [Pippin] watched, it seemed to him that Denethor grew old before his eyes, as if something had snapped in his proud will, and his stern mind was overthrown. Grief maybe had wrought it, and remorse. He saw tears on that once tearless face, more unbearable than wrath.

'Do not weep, lord,' he stammered. 'Perhaps he will get well. Have you asked Gandalf?'

'Comfort me not with wizards!' said Denethor. 'The fool's hope has failed. The Enemy has found it, and now his power waxes; he sees our very thoughts, and all we do is ruinous.

'I sent my son forth, unthanked, unblessed, out into needless peril, and here he lies with poison in his veins. Nay, nay, whatever may now betide in war, my line too is ending, even the House of the Stewards has failed. Mean folk shall rule the last remnant of the Kings of Men, lurking in the hills until all are hounded out.'

Men came to the door crying for the Lord of the City. 'Nay, I will not come down,' he said. 'I must stay beside my son. He might still speak before the end. But that is near. Follow whom you will, even the Grey Fool, though his hope has failed. Here I stay.'

I’ll NEVER forgive the appropriation of the ‘my line is ending’ line, he doesn’t MEAN that he’s grieving the loss of his lineage, he’s grieving the loss of his WHOLE COUNTRY, of his people! As well as his son! And in this final moment with him his priorities of heart surface, where his people are banging desperately at his door, begging for their Lord to come to their aide, he refuses, because Faramir is far more important to him in this moment.

I said I wasn’t going to make this a dissertation but WHATEVER, there you are anon, hope it’s what you wanted than thANK YOU AGAIN for the ask :)

#denethor #tolkien #erran vs tolkien #chats #Anonymous

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checanty · 6 years

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Hi! I studied illustration and graduated this year, now I'm trying to get my foot into the professional illustration and character design world. My work goes more into the spooky and pulp art direction, I'm also quite introverted and have social anxiety and you seem like an introvert too. I just wanted to ask how you deal with interacting (mails, phone calls) with clients and I'll glady take any tip how to find clients in general and to network. I just feel like I don't really know how to start.

Hi there! Yes, I’m an introvert as well. And socially anxious. All that stuff you’re mentioning right there sends a shiver down my spine. So let me tell you about how I deal with it ...

But let me tell you, we are not uncommon in the art community! Back in school I was warned being an artist would be twice as hard because I’m horrible at selling myself (ok my work, but the lines blur nowadays.) and it made me feel terrified of the future. There was safety in knowing I could always work on my craft and get better at it, but I’d never been able to figure out to be that outgoing person I thought I needed to be. (My whole time at school was pretty much people telling me ‘you’re good, but you’re quiet, so you’ll never be good enough. Over. and over. and I never managed to change and it fucked me up good.)But, as I said, lots of illustration folks are introverts and a lot deal with anxiety issues. It’s good if you can find a forum of working pros (facebook groups, etc) that talk openly about problems they face, so you can realize once and for all you’re not the odd one out and a bunch of the people you admire and thought had it all figured out have been hiding and crying in hotel rooms, too, if that one convention that was supposed to be life changing turned out to be too much to handle.Also, praise the internet! There are basically no phone calls to make! Writing e-mails … well, that one gets easier! You end up having to write about similar things a lot of the time and learn some go to phrases (if you are very clever you can write and save some template mails, e.g. for what your quotes are, things people ask you a lot in interviews, etc. to save some time!) and start caring less about every mail to be perfect. It also gets easier to weed out the mails that are worth an afternoon of composing and which are not.When e-mails are especially scary and I have a lot of emotions and feel I need to answer without much delay, I boil my reply down to the essentials. What is the person actually asking? People often write a lot, but really they only ask: Are you interested in this? Are you available?So I just answer something like: Hey XYZ, thank you so much for reaching out! I’d love to be part of the project. Could you please fill me in on the details?I sometimes feel bad basically ignoring 80 % of an e-mail, but often it’s simply not relevant at the time. Just make sure you *do* filter out the important information/questions. (Asking for details when the e-mail is filled with everything you need to know doesn’t make sense. But quite often people try to gauge interest to see if they need to continue looking before they take the time to delve deeper into it.)If people ask you for a quote, feel free to simply ask them for their budget in return. My e-mailing solution is usually keeping it polite and to the point. The simpler the better.I used to not write simple ‘thank you!’ or ‘got it!’ e-mails and write only when I had something I felt was worthy contributing because I didn’t want to disturb the busy people I was working with, but I noticed people did it to me and it’s just nice for them to know the e-mail got through and all. And it really doesn’t disturb most people. So I do it now.Generally, for a lot of e-mailing questions and art business questions in general I can only recommend checking out @dearartdirector where you have a bunch of art directors answering your questions. Make sure to see what they have answered already before asking away! They’ve already covered A LOT. It’s a super valuable resource and I have some of their answers, especially for e-mail communication, saved in my favourites here on Tumblr for reference.Oh and let yourself some slack. There’s a learning curve. Sometimes having WRITTEN that scary e-mail is the most important part. Just get the ball rolling. There’ll be so many mails more … and if you need to do a silly dance after sending a scary email, do it. Nobody’s judging. Unless you have a cat.So, phone calls. They usually don’t happen. If people want to call and it’s for a book cover or something similar tell them no and that you’d rather have all the information in writing. Which is better anyways. For your records and because it’s much harder to misunderstand or forget something typed. Now, I’ve had phone calls happening this year for my tv work. Sometimes it’s quicker to receive feedback and explanations ‘in person’ and people call. They’ll ask up front though and you can set a date/time. Nowadays you can usually opt for Skype, too, which was possible with one team I worked with, which I was very grateful for. Skype is for some reason easier for me than phone calls, probably because I feel more in control having the screen in front of me and being able to see other people’s expressions, gestures.Before the first call I was still incredibly nervous. Chattering teeth nervous. I couldn’t concentrate the whole effing day. But the job paid well enough that I could risk deciding to tackle nothing besides the call that day. (I made other plany for the day, but nothing important and I was fully aware I’d most likely end up not doing it. It was more a gentle … when you feel up to it, draw. But if you need to watch 4 hours of Netflix and then spend an hour writing down your worst fears to get through this that is absolutely FINE.) I know myself by now. Stuff like this will keep me from being functional for the whole day, so I won’t force myself to be it despite it all. Keeping it easy, prepare what I can, most of all deep breathing.The calls got less anxiety inducing with every time and I even started to look forward to them because the team was lovely to work with and I loved the job. (And it felt so professional! Like. Yes, fill me in on the news. I got this covered. Expect sketches in a hour. Expect final on your desk tomorrow.) So know what you can expect of yourself, don’t bring yourself down. You’re good at other stuff. I’m great at working by myself for a long time and it makes me grow fast as an artist. I’m not good at phone calls. One of these things is MUCH more important to find work.Nevertheless, I had to do an actual phone calls with another team. It was horrible. The people were perfectly sweet, but that phone was basically gliding through my sweaty fingers. Make sure to get all the important info in writing even if they’ve explained things to you on the phone. Even if you took notes. even if you’re afraid they’ll think you didn’t listen to them. Or are stupid. Better safe than sorry. I once didn’t catch that other people having a meeting was meant as a deadline for me which ended in one very relaxed evening and one panicked all-nighter to make it in time. So rather than do that write a ‘thanks for the talk, can you confirm this info I noted down, thank you’ e-mail. Especially when you’re like me and a part of your brain just shuts down when on the phone. (On the phone I can forget my name and birthday.)Finding clients … well most clients have found me. I’ve e-mailed some art directors I’d like to work with (find that address, Write ‘Hello, I’m an illustrator, would love to work with you some time, here’s a link to my portfolio. Maybe add 2-3 (low res) jpgs.) and sent out postcards, but I’m not good at doing that regularly and most jobs come from people finding my work on the internet. So submit your work to blogs and magazines (e.g. illustration age), be active on social media. Put your e-mail address somewhere where people can find it easily. I’ve actually had some good job inquiries from people who’ve found my work on Behance. I update that portfolio maybe twice a year, so it doesn’t take as much effort as Facebook or similar sites.Oh this got quite lengthy. There’s a cup of tea getting cold somewhere …Seriously, check out that Dear Art Director blog. It is invaluable info, no matter which part of the industry you want to work in.

#ask #loooong #it's edited now but still not very structured

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d-noona · 4 years

Text

MAKE OVER

Chapter 4: Mister X

Jung Hoseok x Reader

Reader as Kang Hyeonji

SUMMARY: When Kang Hyeonji transformed herself into a striking redhead, the entire male population of Seoul stood up and took notice. But her make over was for Jung Hoseok’s benefit alone. He began to show interest in the new look but not in the way she wanted. Suddenly he was over-protective, perhaps a little jealous. It seemed that the idea of having a relationship with her couldn’t be further from his mind. The girl however wants more. So it was time for an ultimatum. If Hoseok didn’t want Hyeonji to lose her virginity to another admirer, he had no option but to make love to her himself.

When his attention returned to the ongoing traffic, her eyes continued to secretly caress him for several moments.

How could I not love it? It's from you my darling. I will treasure it for the rest of my life...

This was the heart-catching reality for Hyeonji. Hoseok frowning "I hope you're not just saying that."

Hyeonji found everything about the situation rather ironic. What would happen if she truly told him how she felt about him? Knowing Hobi, he would terribly be embarrassed. He hated complications in his life. He was a simple man at heart.

"Would I lie to you?" she quipped, though unable to keep the sardonic edge of her voice. He slanted her a rather bewildered look as though he'd never associated her with sarcasm before.

"I hope not. You were always a brutally honest kid. But right on the ball. Why else do you think I used to ask for your opinion on things? Mother just said whatever I do is great. I needed someone who told me as it really was. Which you did. You were always able to make me see what was worth working on, Hyeonji; what would last."

A pity you never asked my opinion on your lady friends. Hyeonji thought wryly, I could've told you all those females loved themselves too much to have much left over for anyone else. But then, it wasn't love you wanted from them, was it Hoseok? Still old habits die hard. What's going to happen when you want a girl to love you, and whom you can truly love in return? You'll never find the right wife, gravitating towards the wrong type of girl. The Tinashe's of this world are only out for what they can get.

Whereas I, I would love you as no other woman could ever love you, my darling. Look at me, Hoseok. Hyeonji's thoughts were running wild when Hoseok cuts her "Anyway, Hyeonji" Hoseok went on, oblivious of Hyeonji's thoughts and feelings. "I hope that necklace goes some small way to making up for my thoughtlessness in the past. I know I'm a selfish bastard. But your friendship means a lot to me and I wouldn't want you to think I never give you a moment's thought because I do."

"Trouble is..." he threw her a wry smile. "It's usually only when I need your help. Or your advice. Or your opinion on a new car." She didn't know whether to laugh or cry, at that point. Anger however came to the rescue. "And is that all tonight is Hobi?" she snapped "A test drive?" Are you taking me out just to get your opinion on your new car?"

"God, no!" He looked and sounded appalled. "No, that's not it at all! Far from it. The thing is, I realized today down the library that I never ask you about you. It added to my guilt, I can tell you. All these years and all we ever talk about is me. So tonight I want to hear all about you....Hyeonji."

"Me?" she echoed weakly.

"Yes. You. I want to know what'd going on in your life these days. You could've knocked me over with a feather when that woman said you were twenty-three. It suddenly came to me that a girl as great as you should have a boyfriend or married. I began to wonder. I wanted to ask you then and there but it was hardly appropriate. So I'm asking you now, Hyeonji. Why haven't you got a boyfriend?"

Hyeonji was really stumped. What to say? What to tell him? She busied herself putting the gold chain tidily into its case and slipping it into her purse, all the while trying to find the right lie to tell. The awkward silence grew till finally Hoseok shot her a shocked look. "Good God Hyeonji, you're not, are you?"

"Not what?" she asked.

"Not...gay?"

Hyeonji's eyes rounded. And then she laughed. That was one excuse she'd never thought of. "No I am not gay."

"So what's the problem?" Hoseok continues looking a bit relieved. "The problem..." She considered her answer at some length, then decided excuse three carried a perverse kind of truth. "The problem is...that I am in love with a man. But he just doesn't love me back. In fact, he doesn't know I'm even alive in a sexual sense."

"Why not?" Hoseok demanded to know, apparently affronted by this mystery man's lack of passion for his best friend. Hyeonji almost felt soothed by Hoseok's chagrin on her behalf. "I guess I'm not his type, physically speaking. I'm not pretty enough."

"What stupid shit! You are very pretty."

"No, I'm not, Hobi. But it's nice of you to say so" Hyeonji was grateful that Hoseok dropped the subject of her beauty. He scowled all through the drive, not opening his mouth until there were on the entrance and approaching the coffee shop.

"So who is this idiot?" he flung at her. "Is he a local?"

"Yes, of course" Hyeonji answers trying not to look at Hoseok. "Did he go to our school?" as he continues to interrogate her. "Yes. But that's as much as I'm going to say."

"Our school..." he frowned as he scoured his memory. "I can't think of who it could be. Still there are over eight hundred kids in our school." He shook his head in frustration. "I've no idea. Look, just tell me who he is. Don't keep me in suspense!"

"Sorry, I am not telling you, or anyone else for that matter. I would find it terribly embarrassing. Besides it's quite pointless my telling you who he is. I've pretty well accepted he's not interested. Shortly, I aim to get on with my life, so you don't have to worry, Hobi. I don't intend to suffer indefinitely."

Hoseok mumbled and muttered all through swinging the car around before he launched into another verbal attack against her mystery man. Hyeonji found it amusing that he was railing himself. "So! Does this splendid advertisement for feminine taste have a girlfriend?"

"Actually he's between women at the moment." She answers. "Had a lot of them, has he?" Hoseok continues. "Oodles." As Hyeonji giggles, amused by Hoseok's predicament. "And you love this inveterate ladies' man?

"He takes my breath away" as Hyeonji confirms.

Hoseok pulled a face. "What is it about women that they always fall for the bad guys? He sounds positively awful!"

"I don't think he is at all awful. And he'd been very successful businesswise" Hyeonji tries to cover for Hoseok a bit. Hobi's top lip curled into a sneer. "I suppose he's good-looking."

"Drop-dead gorgeous," she agreed.

"Handsome is a handsome does, you know," he growled, then muttered some more under his breath all the way to the parking. Hyeonji sat next to him in a self-satisfied silence. She hadn't enjoyed herself so much in years. Perhaps she was playing with a double-edge sword, but if so it was worth the risk. She didn't think the penny would drop for Hoseok. Meanwhile, she was experiencing a heady exhilaration in toying with the truth in this manner.

They came round the parking hillside corner near the coffee shop and beach front coming into view and Hyeonji sighed her pleasure at the sight. It was a pretty place during the day, but even more so at night, especially when it was cloudless, and the moon sent ribbons of silver rippling across the dark waters.

Tonight, the moonlight was strong, the waves extra gentle as they lapped onto the golden curve of the sand. Some people were still swimming in the peaceful water. Many couples were sitting on the warm sand, arms around each other, or strolling along the beach hand in hand. As Hyeonji had thought earlier, it was night for lovers. Hoseok drove past the public car park at the bottom of the hill and along the narrow main street which flanked the beach, tall pines on the sea side, shops on the other. He eased into a space under a pine at the far end.

He snapped off his engine and swiveled in his seat to face Hyeonji, a scowl on his handsome face "It's not Jeon Jungkook, is it?"

Jeon Jungkook was the only boy in Hoseok's class who could rival him for his looks and subsequent business acumen. As dark as Hoseok was fair, he had thick black hair, heavy lidded dark doe eyes and a body of God, packing some major muscles. He didn't have Hoseok's super intelligence but he had a creative flair, he was born to hold a camera in his hands. Producing and editing music videos under his own company called Golden Closet Productions. His company started a few years back and had recently expanded. Unmarried, he was a swinging bachelor type who played the field without mercy. He'd recently bought a place at Gangnam and built an orgy palace of a house, the rumored activities therein supplying plenty of fuel for the local gossips.

Hyeonji only knew Jungkook as well as she did because his folks lives two doors up. He came to visit them quite often, and, Jungkook being Jungkook, he always waved at Hyeonji if she was out the front watering or weeding the garden.

A couple of months back, he'd also knocked on the door and asked if she and her mother wanted to sell the house to him, since he was wanting to have a place for himself near his parents. Even after they said no, he'd left his business card then stayed talking to Hyeonji for ages. He was one of those males who could not go past a female without proving he was God's gift to women. His charm operated on auto pilot.

Hyeonji found him likeable enough, but shallow in her opinion. It irked her that Hoseok should think she could be madly in love with him. "Well?" he probed. "Is it?"

"I'm sorry but I refuse to answer any such questions on the grounds they might incriminate me" she says. Hoseok glowered at her. "You're being damned difficult."

"I don't think so. You might be my friend but there's a limit to what I will tell you. And I think my love life is my own private business, don't you? After all, when I asked you about Tinashe, you wouldn't tell me." Hyeonji tries to fend off Hoseok's question.

"Fair enough. But if it is Jungkook," he growled, "then I hope to tell you never get your heart's desire. His reputation with women is appalling." Hyeonji rolled her eyes. As if Jeon Jungkook would take any serious notice of her anyway. That was as far-fetched as Hoseok doing so. Suddenly, she felt tired of this game. "If it will make you feel any better it's not Jungkook. But please don't come up with anymore candidates. I am not going to tell you and that's that."

"I had no idea you could be this stubborn." Hoseok looks at Hyeonji as she crossed her arms with finality over her chest. Her sideways glance carried a sardonic flavor. "There are a lot of things you don't know, Hobi."

"I'm beginning to see that's the case. And there I've been all these years, telling people what a sweet little thing you are. It seems Tinashe might not have been altogether wrong." He says. Hyeonji bristled. "Oh? And what, pray tell, did dear Tinashe say about me?"

"She said you were a sly piece and she wouldn't trust you as far as she could throw you" Hoseok answers. Hyeonji's blood pressure rose a few notches. "Humph! That's the pot calling the kettle black!"

"I take it you don't like Tinashe?" he quirked an eyebrow at her.

"You take it correctly" she says nodding her head in full approval and conviction. "Why?"

Hyeonji almost launched into a tirade about vanity, superficiality and naked ambition, but pulled herself up just in time. There was little point in being vicious, now that the girl was possibly on the way out. Besides, the truth might sound too much like jealousy.

She managed to shrug. "You can't like everyone in this world. Some people just rub you up the wrong way right from the start."

"True. Okay. I won't be a pain and press for more. Neither will I ask you anymore embarrassing questions about Mr. X. I'm just relived it's not Jungkook. Come on, let's go for a walk." He was out of the car before she could say Jack Robinson, bounding around the front to her side where he wrenched open the passenger door.

"Do...do you think we could have our coffee first?" she asked a little shakily when Hoseok took her hand and drew her upright out of the rather low-slung vehicle. Whilst she told herself it was sheer hunger causing her stomach to cramp suddenly, she rather suspected there was another cause, and extracted her hand from Hoseok's as soon as she could.

"I guess so," he returned with a casual shrug. "If you're dying for some."

"It's not the coffee I'm dying for so much as something to eat." She sighed. Hoseok frowned. "Haven't you had dinner? You told me your mother was cooking dinner for you tonight."

"She did, but dinner these days wouldn't feed a flea. Some nights I could just scream!" Hoseok just laughed. "Don't complain. You're looking darned good on what your mother's been feeding you." Hyeonji could not stop the flush of pleasure "You...you really think so?"

"I really do." And his eyes were close to admiring as they swept over her new slender figure for the second time that night. After that, Hyeonji knew she would not eat a morsel. Fifteen minutes later she was sitting opposite Hobi in a booth in one of the cafés along the esplanade and had been fiddling with a large slice of chocolate cake for a full ten minutes when he finally burst forth.

"I though you said you were hungry!" Hyeonji bit her bottom lip and put down the fork. "I thought I was too. Do you want it?" he sighed. "Women! Here, give it to me." As she sheepishly handed it over, his exasperation dissolved into a cheeky grin. Hyeonji grinned back, then sat in contented silence to watch Hoseok eat.

It wasn't long before his innocent enough activity had a less than innocent effect on Hyeonji. Hoseok's mouth, unfortunately, was incredibly sexy, wide and curving, his mole on his upper lip, his lips saved from outright femininity by the masculine set of his jawline below, and strong straight nose above. It was also a very mobile mouth, with a very mobile tongue.

Hyeonji's concentration was soon totally on that tongue, and the way its moist pink tip snaked out after every forkful of cake to sweep any crumbs back into his mouth, showing his dimples, leaving Hoseok's lips wet and glistening. Her stomach twisted at the thought of having that tongue-tip do the same to her lips, or having it dart between those same lips and slide deep into her waiting, wanting mouth. Hyeonji smothered a tortured groan and pressed her parched lips firmly together. What she would not give to have that experience...just once.

Regret that she hadn't taken Choon Hee and Han Byeol's advice and gone broke tonight with her appearance rose up to haunt her. Maybe, if she'd left her hair down and worn that perfume, Hoseok might have found more to admire than her slimmer body. Maybe, if she'd used make-up and worn a sexy scarlet lipstick, he might've been tempted to give her a goodnight kiss.

"What's the matter?" Hoseok asked as he placed his fork across the now an empty plate. Hyeonji was beyond pretending. The eyes she lifted to him were sad eyes. Eyes without hope. She was seeing the end of her dream here. Hoseok reached across the table and picked up her left hand. "Loving this Mr. X is making you terribly unhappy, Hyeonji, isn't it?"

Not till today, she accepted with a degree of surprise. Before today, it had been quite a lovely dream. And she had had his friendship to sustain her. How many girls did she know who loved lesser men? Unworthy individuals. Creeps, even. Hoseok was a man amongst men. He was handsome and clever and essentially good. He loved life, and his mother, and he loved her, in a lukewarm brotherly kind of way. Hyeonji could see that now. "Is there anything I could do to help?" he asked gently, stroking his thumb along the top of her hand all the while.

Hyeonji stiffened under the tingly electric feelings it was sending through her. "I don't think so," she said tautly. "It's my problem, and as I've said I decided to move on soon."

"I think that would be the best Hyeonji, forget this idiot. He doesn't know a good thing when he sees it." Hyeonji merely smiled and finally extracted her hand from under his. Hoseok straightened and studied her with still worried eyes. "Why don't you do what my mother does when she's down and wants a lift? Go get yourself a new hairstyle. New clothes. New look altogether."

A bit late for that, she thought, even if I had the money. But Hoseok's words piqued her curiosity. "What would you suggest?" she asked him. "I mean, what do you think would suit me?"

Hoseok laughed "Good God, don't go asking me. I have no idea"

"Hobi, you just asked me if you could help, but as soon as I ask something of you, you opt out. Look, you're a trained artist, with an eye for design, shape and color. Think of me as one of your graphic design projects. Pretend you have me up on the screen of your computer, and then make me over to your personal taste and liking."

"My personal taste and liking? Wouldn't it be better if I made you over to Mr. X's personal taste and liking?" he asked. "You and him are similar types," she invented, warming to the game again with each passing moment. Not only that, she was going to take his advice. Whatever Hoseok suggested she would do, and to hell with the money. She would beg, borrow or steal some if she had to.

His smile was wry. "I thought you just said you were moving on."

"It's a woman's privilege to change her mind." Hoseok shook his head, his eyes wry. "Somehow I pity this Mr. X. he might not know it yet but he's not going to get a way easily, is he?"

"Do stop quibbling, Hobi. Just give me the once over and tell me what to change." She sat up straight and smiled encouragingly at him. Hoseok frowned as he looked over, then shook his head. "Honestly, I don't feel comfortable with this. You're not a graphic design project. You're a female...with feelings."

Hyeonji's eyebrows arched. "Goodness, Hobi, that's observant of you. But I shall bravely put aside my feminine sensitivity long enough to hear your unqualified opinion. You said you always admired my honesty when I gave you my opinion. Now I'm asking for yours."

He stared at her, still frowning, then shook his head again. "I'm sorry, Hyeonji, I really must decline. I suggest you get an experts opinion."

"I don't want an expert's opinion. I want yours. Okay. If you don't tell me straight out, how about we play tick on of the boxes?" as she attempts to push out answers from Hoseok. "Tick one of the boxes?" he said with a confused look in his face.

"Yes, I will suggest a change, then give three possible courses of action. You tell me which one you think will suit me best." Hoseok shrugged "If you must. But I won't give any promises of guarantees." Hyeonji smiled. "All care and no responsibility?"

He smiled back "Something like that."

"Fair enough. First thing on our agenda is my hair. I'm going to have it cut, normally it's always just an inch or two off from my waist, should I go shoulder-length, jaw-length or really short?" he tipped his head on one side to consider his answer "Shoulder-length" he said at last. "You have an elegant neck. It's a shame to ever hide it, plus you can style it still."

Hyeonji's hand automatically fluttered up to her throat, her stomach curling over at the compliment. She would have to have a good look at her neck when she got home. "What...what about color?" she finally went on, hoping she wasn't blushing. "What do you think would suit me best? Blonde, brunette or redhead?"

"Why don't you just leave it the color it is?" he asks. "No way! I've lived with this color long enough, thank you very much. There's going to be nothing mousy about me from now on. I can tell you! Now choose!"

Hoseok sighed. "Okay, but be it on your hear."

"Well, it will be won't it?" He shook his head at her. "First sarcasm. Now a savage wit. What next?" Hyeonji crossed her arms on the table. "Blonde? Brunette? Or Redhead?"

"Hmmm. Well, you have a fair delicate skin usually associated with redheads, but please, not one of those harsh reds. A rich copper color would be nice." He says nodding in approval. "A rich copper color," she repeated, swallowing nervously. Somehow she just couldn't see herself with a shorter red hair. Good God, this was going to take some courage, but she was determined.

Hyeonji opened her mouth to ask Hoseok about make-up, then she shut it again. A man wouldn't know much about that. She would have to consult an expert, maybe in the cosmetics section of a department store. She began totting-up the cost so far. A top hair-dresser. A dye job, which would need retouching every six to eight weeks. New make-up. Not to mention a new wardrobe. Goodness, the mind boggled.

"What about clothes?" she continued. "I mean...what kind of clothes do you like a girl to wear? Of course I realize I don't have a spectacular figure like Tinashe, but I'm not too bad these days."

"Don't underestimate yourself Hyeonjj" he said brusquely. "I've been noticing tonight what a good little figure you have –one which you seem to have hidden successfully for years. You have more than adequate bust, a very shapely bottom and a nice little waist. You also have remarkably good legs for such a short girl."

A shocked of delight rippled through Hyeonji. The girls had said that she had a good figure, but hearing Hoseok say so was wonderful! And to think all he could find to criticize was her height. "Unfortunately Hobi" she said, "there's nothing I can do about being short. I would dearly love to be taller, believe me."

"Your Mr. X is tall, then?"

"Fairly. And he likes tall girls" she answers back.

"Stupid man. Doesn't he know good things come in small packages?" he sounded decidedly irritable. "I suppose you could always wear higher heels than what you have on. You could also give the illusion of further height by shortening your skirts. Though I prefer girls in flats and short skirts."

"I have no intention of going to work every day in five-inch heels and minis!" Hyeonji says appalled at the idea. Hoseok gave her a long and hard look. "You see this Mr. X at work, do you?"

"Er...not very often." She replied. "Then what you wear to work is irrelevant. What you wear when he's around is another thing entirely."

"If I go to the trouble and expense of all these changes, Hobi," she said firmly, "then it won't be for Mr. X. it will be for me." She smiled.

"Sure, Hyeonji, sure. By the way, I don't like stripes, checks or floral prints. I like my women in figure-hugging clothes in strong block colors." When Hyeonji gave him a blank look, he smiled a drily amused smile. "You said Mr. X would have similar tastes to me. Please don't go on pretending this isn't for him. It insults my intelligence."

Hyeonji laughs at Hoseok "All right. I won't insult your intelligence. Go on. What else do you like?"

"I don't like girls to wear pants."

Hyeonji gaped at him. "If you think I'm going to swan around without my underwear on, then you have another thing coming!" His expression was droll. "Pants, Kang Hyeonji. Not panties. I'm talking about slack suits, or trousers, if you will."

"Oh..."

"I don't mind tights. Or jeans, provided they fit well, really well. Men are attracted to a woman's shape. They like to see it" then he gives her a smirk.

"You're a sexist, do you know that?" with an eyebrow quirked. The corner of his mouth lifted in a wickedly attractive smile. "Yes. I like sex. Very much. Is that what you mean by sexist?"

"No and you darned well know it!" Hyeonjj gawks at Hoseok. He looked at her for a long time before speaking. "Do you like sex, Hyeonji?"

She went bright red. "I think that's a very personal question."

"Not really. It was a general one. I'm not asking for a blow-by-blow description of every sexual experience you've had." He says laughing at her.

"Well, if you did, it would be a mighty short conversation," she snapped. "In fact, I wouldn't have to say a word."

He just stared at her. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" he asked at last in hushed tones. His obvious shock infuriated her, as did her having blurted out the truth. But she wasn't about to go shy and embarrassed on him. Pride demanded she hold her head high.

"Really, Hoseok. There's no need to whisper," she said coolly. "I am not ashamed of my virginity."

"But you're twenty-three, Hyeonji!" he says.

"So what? Is there a prescribed date for such dubious milestones? Where is it written in stone that a girl must lose her virginity before such and such a date? I happen to be waiting for someone special. I didn't want to throw it away on some fumbling boy down behind the school gym, or in the back of a car after a party. And don't think I haven't had any offers," she lied. "Because I have!"

Hoseok's brown eyes darkened. "You're waiting for this Mr. X, aren't you?"

"And if I am? What's it to you?" she says defensively.

He seemed taken back, then almost outraged. "You're my best friend, damn it! I don't want to see you hurt." Hyeonji was touched, and terribly close to tears. It was a struggle to retain her composure and sense of proportion. If nothing else, she'd made up her mind tonight to do something about changing her dreary appearance. On top of that, her friendship with Hoseok had subtly shifted into a deeper plane, more like that of true best friends. There was something very intimate and bonding about sharing confidences.

So now he knew she was a virgin. It was not such a disaster. How could the truth hurt? "I'll be all right, Hobi," she said, and actually reached out to touch his hand in a comforting gesture. "Please don't worry about me and Mr. X. Just promise me you'll be there...when and if I need you."

She looked deep into his eyes and was moved by the sincerity of the affection for her she saw there. "I think you better take me home now," she said softly. "Tomorrow's a working day."

Chapter 05

Masterlist

#BTS #BANGTANSONYEONDAN #JUNGHOSEOK #JHOPE #BTSJHOPE #MYHOPE #YOURANGEL #BTSJHOPEXREADER #BTSFANFIC #ROMATICFANFIC #MAKEOVER

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fair-fae · 7 years

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You know, I'm not a drama person, I don't like it, but it came up on my dash so much that I kind of had to read it. All of that nonsense could've been avoided if you didn't even take it to the public. Judging people for THEIR characters that THEY made and can do WHATEVER the hell they want with them? Oh woo ho good job, you're so popular for taking the "barrage" of it. No. all it did was prove that you're a D-bag and I've got a nice, long list of people to block now and avoid contact with.

Okay, anon. I haven’t bothered setting the record straight with most of this shit, because I know folks like you will continue to believe what you want to believe and hear what you want to hear, just like you’re doing now. But I’ll bite. You’d think all of you getting onto your soapbox about how you shouldn’t judge or attack others wouldn’t keep talking shit about a situation you know nothing about and/or are terribly misinformed about. So I’ll enlighten you with what actually happened.

A while back, the person in question got into an argument with some people on the RPC, trying to tell them that their interpretation of the lore was wrong. Rather than leaving it at that, when he effectively got shut down there, he proceeded to take a screenshot of the conversation and post it on his tumblr, complete with a rant about the people who disagreed with him, their opinions are so wrong and awful, how dare they disagree with him, etc. essentially playing the victim when he was the one to try to badger them for their opinions in the first place. He also left their names, icons, signatures, etc. in full view.I responded and told him he probably shouldn’t be trying to harass any other people about the lore considering his own character concept (thus, you would think, making my opinion on his character pretty clear). Why? Because it’s fucking true.I don’t give a shit about the lore or whether anyone follows it. Probably every single one of my own characters at least bends the lore. But at least have the self-awareness and respect for your fellow role-players to say “yeah, my character breaks the lore” or not get your jimmies rustled every time someone says “oh, yeah, his character is lore breaking.” You wanna break the lore? Cool. Own up to it. And if you do break the lore, don’t try to force everyone else into following it–especially when you can’t even admit you break lore and instead stretch the lore to try so hard to justify your entirely lore-breaking character concept. Don’t try to heckle people for presumably doing what you do but won’t admit. Granted, these people weren’t even breaking lore anyway, which makes his insistence that they were even more ridiculous.So after some excuses about how he was trying to start some intellectual discussion or something and not just drag these people despite featuring their identities and primarily just complaining about them throughout the post, he admitted he should have at least edited out their names and apologized. Great! You’d think that should be the end of it. I didn’t have anything against him at that point, but also had no desire/reason to associate with him, so I didn’t. A couple months go by. Some post comes across my dash. A girl in the community is doxxing her online ex-boyfriend in a callout post about him for unexpectedly breaking up with her because she “thinks” he was lying to her about serious issues and “believes” he was cheating on her. Because I’m a loud and opinionated person, and because that’s some heinous thing to do, I spoke out against it (via a post on my own blog without naming names, mind you, because I’m not going to hijack someone else’s post with negativity or call them out by name). The girl found it, assumed it was about herself, flipped out, and then of course I was the bad guy for saying doxxing isn’t okay. And then the person in question joins in. Not even to discuss the topic at hand, but to dredge up the old drama about how I was so mean to him and he did nothing wrong, etc. A pretty crappy 180 turn for a person who apologized and made it seem like there were no hard feelings, but whatever. Someone saw that he obviously didn’t like me, and seized the chance to try to talk shit and spread rumors because they knew he’d give them the platform. They sent him some anon about how I hate women (lmao). And of course, he published it, with no skepticism or disagreement, only more commentary about how I’m mean and awful. I went to respond, only to find myself blocked. So I went on about my life because it’s not that big of a deal, but hey. The moment you talk shit about me, especially in a venue where I can’t respond, especially facilitating some lies and BS rumors, especially after leading me to believe we’d made amends–you aren’t off limits. You don’t get spared niceness and politeness. Is that mean and petty? Probably.¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I’ve never claimed to be a nice person.Now, to the horrible, awful thing I did to make this “public.” Fast forward to yesterday. I’d kept my mouth shut and left him alone. In a section of the RPC that doesn’t get a ton of traffic, largely because you have to make an account on the website and then manually opt in to this specific forum, several of us were discussing an absolutely awful person which is an unrelated story I won’t get into. Someone asked something along the lines of, “Are you guys talking about Underaged Looking Allagan Voidsent Chimera Demon Guy?” I responded with basically “No, we’re not talking about Underaged Looking Allagan Voidsent Chimera Demon Guy.” And that was it. We moved on with the conversation because he wasn’t who we’d been talking about. His name, tumblr, server info, in game race, class, etc. was all never given. No identifiable information beyond a very brief and tongue-in-cheek description of his RP character comprised of words taken directly from his own wiki, tumblr info, talk of his own character and RP posts.Someone saw the conversation, and based on our intentionally shitty description, was able to accurately guess who we were talking about and send him an anon to tell him about it. You’d think that would be pretty telling about his own RP, and this anon’s interpretation of it. He answered the anon in a long rant about me that featured both my in game name and my tumblr handle. In case you need me to spell this out for you, he went public with it first. I’ll also remind you that I was blocked, so I wasn’t/couldn’t be following him, and I was not properly @tagged in this rant, so I never would have seen it unless someone told/linked me, or someone I follow eventually reblogged it. And I honestly can’t imagine the level of narcissism it takes to write a long personal post full of wangst and victim-playing every time you hear a person had something negative to say about you or your RP character (not even by name–and by picking words from his own descriptions of his character), especially a person you have had issues with in the past and who you openly shit-talked yourself prior. Who does that? Lord knows my blog would be overflowing. Not everyone will like you, especially not people you jabbed at first. Especially not with an off the wall RP concept. Especially not with you trying to pass that concept is lore abiding and just “unusual.” Especially not with you trying to tell other people they’re “wrong” about the lore. Especially not with your character being a squicky, walking fetish and immortal jailbait. And that’s not even touching other things people have told me about this person that rubbed them the wrong way. Move on with your life.However, I found out about the post thanks to the OP himself when he unblocked me just to send me the link to the post and then before I could even read/respond to the post, sent me a barrage of IM’s still playing the innocent victim which is grating enough on its own but also included him straight up lying about ever posting/saying anything about me, insisting he’d done nothing to me, had nothing against me, this was so out of the blue and uncalled for, etc. When I pointed out this wasn’t the case, that I had seen and read the posts firsthand because blocking me doesn’t prevent me from seeing his posts, he began to lie instead about the contents of said posts and pulled some gaslighting bullshit about how I had just “misread” them, all the while either willfully or coincidentally not seeming to understand anything I said to him (I mentioned him publishing the anon about how I hate women at least twice and the response was always “I never said you hate women!!” Well no shit). He kept insisting that I had “gone behind his back” and that if I had a problem I should “say it to his face” despite the fact he’d had me blocked and that I’m not a douchey enough person to try to contact him despite that, and despite the fact that he had “gone behind my back” and not “said it to my face” twice now prior, and had done just that with his post about the folks from the RPC as well.He also insisted that the tumblr post was meant just to innocently “bring the issue to my attention to clear things up” despite me having no way to see it on my own unless by coincidence, and despite him proving to be willing and able to send me IM’s instead, which you’d think could render the need for a public post moot. When I pointed this out, he promptly deleted the post, lest anyone else see through his bullshit to what he was really trying to do.After my initial response to his wall of IM’s, he sent another wall this time with more insults and accusations, and promptly blocked me so I couldn’t respond. So yes, I made a vaguepost, I know, how awful, how dare I. A vague post vague enough that only someone who had seen his post, or who heard about it from him otherwise, would know who and what it was referencing. Until he responded to it himself, that is and unblocked me again to send me more angry messages to which I responded by permanently blocking him instead because this game of blocking and unblocking sure was getting old.Cue his charming friends sweeping in to tell me to eat a dick, making false accusations against my RP partner and I, sending me threats on Discord, telling people I flashed my breasts for money, etc. And the other person? The one who brought him up in the first place who I had only been responding to? Whose name he was given, was aired in the same public post on his blog as mine? As far as I know, she hasn’t gotten any hate, probably not a single message. And I’m glad, because she shouldn’t get any, she doesn’t deserve it. But at the same time, sure seems sketchy that the person who did the same exact thing as me–and who did it first–has not provoked anyone’s ire, not even been messaged. The public post in reply to the anon who named her, even, was aimed 100% at me. Now isn’t that funny. It’s almost like this was an excuse for people who already had beef with me to try to take shots at me and pretend it was justified. It’s almost like all you anon keyboard warriors don’t even know how this started or what actually happened.And now I’m going to talk about something else. You cannot do “whatever the hell you want” with your character. RP is a two-way (or more) street. There is a real person behind each and every character. These people are looking for fun just like you, and are every bit as deserving, and your fun shouldn’t impede on theirs. We are all allowed equal parts of fun.So when people play their weird ass lolicon/shotacon/pedobait characters, who is having fun? What if the other person in the RP was sexually abused as a child and you’re dredging up terrible old memories for them and making light of their pain? What if they’re a parent worried for their child, or worse, the parent of a child who’s already been abused? What if they’re an actual pedophile and seeing you RP this is tempting them, making them think they’re desires are normal and okay? Hell, what if they’re a goddamn ordinary person who finds it creepy and uncomfortable?What if the fetishized, futa ERP avatar is interacting with someone who is trans or nonbinary or intersex IRL? What if it’s triggering them (in the genuine, real sense of the word)? What if the walking affront against the lore character talking about being an Voidsent Half-Primal Garlean Spy in the middle of the Quicksand is ruining everyone’s immersion–particularly when they refuse to play along as others respond realistically IC and try to kill them or arrest them or kick them out? What if the OP af infinitely-stronger-than-everyone-else-around-him character is making the RP unfun for every other RPer involved because their characters can’t do anything but get beaten up or bow to his whims unless they stoop to godmodding or suddenly beefing up their own character?People can and will judge your character. Those judgments are usually best left kept themselves or quietly shared between trustworthy friends. But when your character trespasses on the OOC fun of the role-players around you? Sorry, my guy, people have every right to speak up. And all this nonsense? All this nonsense was a small handful of people who were already pretty nasty showing their true colors and getting told to pipe the fuck down. A pretty good outcome, if you ask me. So, please, block me, anon. My life will be better without idiots like you in it, and the same probably goes for anyone else you intend to block. Your nameless, ignorant, anonymous presence will not be missed–or noticed, for that matter.

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