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#or even a locket with a small handwritten note in it
tuxedoprincess · 7 months
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i am THEEEEEE biggest sucker for matching accessories like one of my friends and i have matching morse code bracelets and matching necklaces and then i've got matching keychains with another and matching necklaces with another like i just love the idea of matching with someone
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digital-marketing34 · 4 months
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Online Rakhi Gift for Sister from Rakhi.com
Raksha Bandhan, a festival that celebrates the enduring bond between brothers and sisters, is a time to express love and appreciation. One of the most cherished traditions during this festival is the exchange of gifts. If you're on the lookout for the perfect Rakhi gift for sister, something that goes beyond the ordinary, we've got you covered. Here are some heartfelt and thoughtful Rakhi gift ideas that will make your sister feel truly special.
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Personalized Jewelry: Show your sister how much she means to you with a piece of personalized jewelry. Consider a necklace with her initials, a bracelet with her birthstone, or a locket containing a cherished photo. This timeless gift will serve as a constant reminder of your love and thoughtfulness.
Spa Retreat at Home: Pamper your sister with a spa retreat in the comfort of her own home. Put together a spa gift basket with scented candles, luxurious bath salts, skincare products, and a soft robe. Include a personalized note encouraging her to indulge in a relaxing self-care session.
Customized Gift Hamper: Create a personalized gift hamper tailored to your sister's tastes. Include her favorite chocolates, snacks, skincare products, and perhaps a small trinket that holds sentimental value. The effort you put into curating a thoughtful collection will make the gift even more special.
Handwritten Letters or Poems: In this age of digital communication, a handwritten letter or poem can be a truly touching gift. Pour your feelings onto paper and express your love and gratitude for your sister. Share childhood memories, inside jokes, and your hopes for the future. This timeless gesture is sure to tug at her heartstrings.
Experience-based Gifts: Consider giving your sister an experience rather than a physical gift. Whether it's tickets to a concert, a cooking class, or a weekend getaway, an experience-based gift creates lasting memories and strengthens your bond.
Personalized Diary or Journal: If your sister enjoys writing, a personalized diary or journal can be a thoughtful gift. Choose a beautiful notebook and add a personal touch by inscribing a message or her name on the cover. This gift not only encourages her creative side but also provides a private space for her thoughts.
Tech-Savvy Treats: For the sister who loves technology, consider gifting her a gadget or accessory. It could be a stylish phone case, wireless earbuds, or a smartwatch. These tech-savvy treats blend functionality with style, making them both practical and fashionable.
This Raksha Bandhan, go the extra mile to make your sister feel loved and appreciated with a thoughtful and heartfelt gift. Whether it's a piece of personalized jewelry, a spa retreat at home, or a handwritten letter, the key is to show that you know and value her uniqueness. Celebrate the beautiful bond you share and make this Rakhi a memorable and special occasion for your sister.
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whole-sale-925-silver · 4 months
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WHAT IS A LOCKET NECKLACE? THE FUSION OF ART AND EMOTION
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The Evolution of Locket Necklaces
The evolution of locket necklaces is a fascinating journey that spans centuries and continents. From their humble beginnings as protective amulets to their modern-day incarnations as sentimental keepsakes, lockets have always held a special place in our hearts.
The earliest lockets date back to ancient Egypt, where they were worn as amulets to ward off evil spirits and bring good luck. These early lockets were often made from simple materials like wood, bone, or clay, and they often contained small charms or symbols.
Medieval Metamorphosis
In the Middle Ages, lockets evolved into more elaborate pieces of jewelry. They were often made from precious metals and stones, and they were often decorated with intricate designs and religious symbols. Lockets were also seen as a status symbol, and they were often worn by the wealthy and powerful.
Renaissance Romance
During the Renaissance, lockets became more personal. They were often given as gifts between lovers, and they often contained portraits or miniatures of loved ones. Lockets were also seen as a way to keep loved ones close, even when they were apart.
Victorian Vignette
The Victorian era saw a boom in the popularity of lockets. Mourning lockets, which contained hair or other mementos of a deceased loved one, were especially popular. Lockets were also given as sentimental gifts for weddings, birthdays, and other special occasions.
Modern Metamorphosis
In the modern era, lockets have continued to evolve. They are now made from a wide variety of materials, including metals, gemstones, and even plastic. They come in a wide variety of shapes and sizes, and they can be personalized with photos, engravings, or other keepsakes. Lockets are still seen as sentimental pieces of jewelry, and they are often passed down through generations.
Types of Locket Necklaces
Heart-shaped lockets: Timeless and romantic, heart lockets are a symbol of love and affection. They often come in dainty sizes, making them perfect for everyday wear.
Oval lockets: Elegant and versatile, oval lockets offer a classic silhouette that complements many styles. They come in various sizes, from petite to statement pieces.
Round lockets: Playful and charming, round lockets add a touch of whimsy to any outfit. They're a great choice for those who prefer a more modern look.
Unique Designs
Vintage lockets: Antique lockets boast intricate details and timeless charm. They're perfect for adding a touch of history and personality to your look.
Multiple photo lockets: These lockets feature multiple compartments, allowing you to hold several treasures close. They're ideal for families or those who want to showcase special memories.
Multiple photo lockets: These lockets feature multiple compartments, allowing you to hold several treasures close. They're ideal for families or those who want to showcase special memories.
Shaker lockets: Filled with tiny charms or gems that move freely inside, shaker lockets are a playful and eye-catching choice. They're sure to spark conversation and bring a smile to your face.
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Design and Craftsmanship
Design
Shapes and Styles: Lockets come in a dazzling array of shapes, from classic hearts and ovals to whimsical stars, crescents, and even intricate geometric patterns. Some boast sleek, modern lines, while others exude vintage charm with ornate engravings and delicate filigree.
Materials: The possibilities are endless! From precious metals like gold and silver to gleaming gemstones, humble wood, and even porcelain, each material imbues the locket with a unique character. For a touch of whimsy, consider lockets crafted from colorful enamel or polymer clay.
Hidden Stories: The true beauty of lockets lies in their intimate purpose. They often hold precious keepsakes – a loved one's photograph, a lock of hair, a handwritten note. Some lockets even boast hidden compartments, adding an air of mystery and intrigue.
Modern Twists: Contemporary designers are putting their spin on the classic locket. We see lockets incorporating digital elements like tiny screens displaying personalized messages or even functioning as miniature projectors. 3D printing technology is also opening up new avenues for innovative and bespoke locket designs.
Craftsmanship
Timeless Techniques: Skilled artisans bring lockets to life using a variety of techniques. Metalworking involves shaping, soldering, and engraving, while gemstone setting requires precision and meticulous attention to detail. Enameling adds pops of vibrant color, while intricate hand-painting transforms lockets into miniature works of art.
Labor of Love: Each locket is a testament to the dedication and skill of the craftsperson who created it. From the initial design to the final polish, countless hours of meticulous work go into crafting a locket that will be cherished for generations.
Ethical Sourcing: With the growing awareness of ethical practices, choosing lockets made with responsibly sourced materials is becoming increasingly important. Look for lockets crafted from recycled metals, fair-trade gemstones, and sustainably harvested wood.
Locket necklaces are more than just fashion statements; they're testaments to craftsmanship, storytelling, and the enduring power of sentimentality. So, the next time you clasp a locket around your neck, remember the skilled hands that created it and the precious stories it holds close.
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soonparisblog · 5 months
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The Ultimate Guide to Budget-Friendly Birthday Gifts for Male Friends
When it comes to finding the perfect birthday gifts for your male friends, you must consider two things: the gift should be thoughtful and align with your budget. But, don't worry, great gifts don't always need to burn a hole in your pocket. In this ultimate guide, we'll provide a range of ideas that are not just pocket-friendly but also delightful and considerate!
Determining Your Budget
Before diving into our list of affordable presents, it's essential first to set a reasonable budget for each gift. Remember that the price doesn't determine the value of your gift - it's all about the thought that goes into it!
Budget-Friendly Birthday Gift Ideas for Male Friends
DIY Gifts
Take a hands-on approach by creating the gift yourself! A homemade gift represents time, effort, and thoughtfulness. From home-brewed coffee to a photo-locket or a tailor-made Spotify playlist, the options are endless.
Books
For your bibliophile friends, a book that aligns with their interest can be a great budget-friendly option. You can often find bestsellers or classics for less than $20.
Personal Care Products
Think of beard grooming kits, eco-friendly soaps, or vintage razors. While it's a practical gift that your friend will use, it can also feel luxurious.
Designer Coffee Mug
Mugs are a classic choice when it comes to affordable gifts. But you can make it special by choosing a designer mug with a whimsical design, an inspirational quote, or a funny inside joke.
Subscription Services
Subscriptions like a streaming service (Netflix, Spotify), book or magazine subscription, or even an app subscription like Headspace or Duolingo can offer a wonderful surprise that lasts beyond their special day.
Discounted Tech Gadgets
Refurbished or older versions of tech gadgets like headphones, smart speakers, or even fitness trackers often come with a lower price tag. All you need to do is do your research and pick the best option.
Handwritten Letters
In this digital age, a handwritten note can be an incredibly warm and personal gesture that shows how much you value your friendship. Coupled with a small token like their favorite candy or a picture frame, it makes for an affordable yet meaningful gift.
Conclusion
Choosing a birthday gift for a male friend within a tight budget doesn't necessarily mean compromising on quality or thoughtfulness. The aim should be about selecting a gift that implies your understanding and consideration of their personality, likes, and interests.
Remember, choosing the perfect birthday gifts for your male friends isn't about the price, but the value that the gift brings. Whether it's a DIY gift that comes straight from the heart or a thoughtfully chosen book, these budget-friendly ideas can definitely help you shower your friends with love and appreciation without straining your pocket.
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heatherbmoore · 1 year
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How to Personalize a Locket and Make It Pop
Even after all these centuries, locket necklaces still have special places in people’s hearts. Lockets capture sentimentality, make for thoughtful gifts, and allow the wearer to hold their most precious memories close. And although lockets have evolved with every century, they may still contain certain items of significance. So, what do people put in their locket necklaces and how can you customize a locket for yourself or a loved one?
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What to Put in a Locket Classic lockets usually contain one or two photos – but you can also put other things in there to make a locket extra special. A high-quality locket may come with a personalized “page” inside for you to get creative with. Here are some unique ideas for your page: • A meaningful handwritten message or quote—etched into the metal page inside the locket. This gives the wearer a lifetime of safekeeping (as opposed to a note written on a piece of paper and placed inside). • Map coordinates of which only you and the other person know the significance. They could be for where you first met, your favorite vacation spot, or where you want to grow old together. • Special numbers or dates, such as birthdays, marriage dates, and any life events that matter to you or the person wearing the locket. • A child’s drawing etched into the metal page, with their birthday on the other side, is another meaningful option. Get creative with the small space inside the locket! How to Make Your Locket Stand Out As one of your most treasured pieces of jewelry, you may want a locket that is simple but also stands out as your featured piece. Here’s what that could mean for you: • Lockets with diamonds on the cover make sophisticated statements. With either a rectangular or round locket, dispersed diamonds on the front are beautiful touches to a fine piece of heirloom jewelry. • Layer your locket necklace with other necklaces of varying lengths. Solid gold chains always add a chic touch to casual or dressier outfits—and give dimension to your jewelry look. • Add a mommy charm to your locket necklace. A mommy charm is just what it sounds like: a custom charm that has something like a birthdate, a memorable saying, or simply the word “MOM” hand stamped into the metal. • Wear a colorful precious stone charm on your locket necklace when you want a pop of color. Citrine, lapis, or ruby are all striking options that carry significant meaning. See what’s out there. Lockets Made with High-Quality Metals and Materials When creating a custom locket, you also want it to be crafted with fine materials so it lasts forever and can be passed on to the next generation. Choose materials such as sterling silver, 14k yellow gold, and white diamonds. Chain selection is also important for longevity. A 2mm solid gold or sterling silver chain in your ideal length is an excellent choice. One last note: Exquisitely crafted pieces should be made with the highest level of craftsmanship so you feel good about holding it close to your heart. About Heather B. Moore Custom artisan-crafted jewelry from Heather B. Moore is meticulously made by hand—one letter at a time. Each piece is as unique as the person wearing it. From striking monogrammed oval charms to stylish solid gold chains, you can expect heirloom quality jewelry from Heather B. Moore. Hand stamped jewelry brings cherished words or quotes and memories to life. Sentimental pieces from Heather B. Moore are personal and allow the wearer to tell their story through fine jewelry. Whether it’s a charm with a loved one’s handwriting or a doodle from a child, wonderful custom symbols and meaningful messages make life’s journey more complete. Let Heather B. Moore immortalize your sentimental journey with fine jewelry‚ so you can Cherish Who You Are®. Make someone’s day with fine heirloom jewelry from Heather B. Moore at https://heatherbmoore.com/ Original Source: https://bit.ly/3VkLIeA
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maraudersmap123 · 3 years
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Sad Beautiful Tragic (Remus Lupin)
Summery - Remus and Reader had an unofficial relationship while in their 7th year at Hogwarts. When they leave school they fall out of contact though still love one another.
Warning - Angst.
Word count - 1,985
Reading time - 7 mins 13 seconds
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***
Long handwritten note
Deep in your pocket
Words, how little they mean
When you're a little too late
Before leaving school Remus and Y/n had been inseparable. They knew everything about each other and though it had started off as a long term friendship they had transitioned easily into a far more romantic relationship in their final year at school.
Though they had never titled what they were to one another it was clear to everyone that they only had eyes for each other, that they were not single.
Remus had planned to marry the girl, he had said so when they were children playing families in her back garden though he hadn't understood it then. However he did now and he stood by it, he would marry her.
So he wrote her a letter. It was short and simple and he planned on giving it to her at the one-year reunion Lily was having in her Garden to catch up with everyone they had been friends with at school. It was a time to forget about the ongoing war if only for a while.
But she never showed up. Remus put it down to her being busy. She worked in the ministry and with dark forces trying to corrupt them constantly she had been far more busy than usual. However the next day the group had gotten a letter from her, everyone was the same.
She had gone into hiding as the ministry has been overthrown and she was now wanted. She never told them where she was going just that she would be out of the country until the war ended if it ever did.
Remus knew he was too late. They weren't winning the war, not even close. And there was no end in sight either. As far as anyone could tell this was to be their lives for years to come, and now he had to do it without her.
He reached into his pocket and picked up the piece of paper deep inside, folding it and putting it into his sock drawer alongside the new letter he had just received from her, deciding the ignore her side of the drawer that was now empty. For he didn't want the constant reminded that no matter how important ones words are they are reduced to nothing if they are said too late.
I stood right by the tracks
Your face in a locket
As she prepared to leave the country, a small bag in her hand as she looked across the road at her now old cottage she did all she could to hold back her tears. Her life had been falling perfectly into place and now she had to leave it all for goodness knows how long. There was no saying she would ever be able to come back and live a normal life. They were living in unprecedented times and no one knew the possible outcome.
She had written a letter and copied it to each of her friends. she wanted to say more, to each of them (though especially Remus), however, she knew she couldn't. If the letters were found or someone betrayed them she couldn't risk that she had said too much and given away her placement.
That was the same reason why she never planned on writing to her friends again, at least not until she could return home.
She grasped the locket firmly in her hand as she finally apparated to her new location. When she felt her feet hit the hard ground she looked up and found herself exactly where she had planned. A small muggle train station in the French countryside.
Opening the locket she finally let the tear fall as she looked down at the picture of her true love. He looked beautiful as always and happier than usual. She knew that though this was likely the end of their relationship he would always be the ones for her. she loved him more than she could quite comprehend however for the foreseeable future his face in the locket over her heart was the closest she could be to him, and that would have to do.
In dreams
I meet you in warm conversation
It had been a year since she had left England and things had only gotten worse. In the beginning, there was a sense of denial that was widely felt, and though denial is never safe nor helpful it let people forget. but now over two years into the war nobody could deny the horrors that plagued the European Wizarding world, not when they consumed every aspect of your life.
The only time you were free of the horrific war was when you slept, Y/n having no job nor friends slept often. when she wasn't gardening or cooking she would sleep. During these long hours of lull, she would be transported back to the brighter days, the happier times. Days spent exploring the grounds of her high school with her friends, her first party after Ravenclaw won a quidditch game, long summer days spent in the fields behind her house with Lily and Marlene. But most regularly she would find herself in the cottage she once shared with Remus.
They had only lived together a few months when she left, but it was the best few months of her life. Sometimes she regretted leaving him behind as she knew had she asked him to join her he wouldn't have hesitated for a second.
In her dreams she would find herself wrapped in his arms in front of the fire on winter evenings, reading the book that he held in his hand. When she would wake it would take her a few moments to realise it wasn't real anymore, and that though these dreams were once her life they no longer are. For now, she's alone in the world and only feels love in her sleep.
We both wake
In lonely beds
In different cities
Mornings had quickly become both Y/n and Remus' least favourite part of the day. Remus had once enjoyed mornings the most in the day. The crisp air and the silence always comforted him. aBut now all he was met with was disappointment and melancholy as he realises that he is alone and that his dreams aren't the truth.
Y/n had gotten used to the disappointment as the years went on. They had both started to see other people as they accepted that maybe they simply weren't meant to be. But no matter how many people Y/n let into her bed it remained as lonely as it was when it was empty.
Remus was no different and had reverted to staying at different women homes instead of his own, unable to bear sleeping alone in their once shared bed every night any longer.
And you've got your demons
And darlin' they all look like me
At long last the war ended. 5 years since they had seen each other last Y/n and Remus were reunited once more. They had both dreamt of the moment for as long as they had been separated though it seemed the reality didn't quite live up to their expectations.
They had moved back into to the same cottage and while the first few months went smoothly the cracks in their relationship began to show.
They had both been damaged beyond comprehension by the war. They weren't the same people they had been 5 years ago never mind when they had first fallen in love. On top of that Remus simply couldn't trust her anymore.
The thought alone that she could leave him so easily when he struggled so much to live without her sent him into a line of thought that she really didn't care for him as he did her. Though he was incorrect she couldn't seem to persuade him that she was being honest and that she loved him. He simply couldn't trust her.
She realised within the first year that the war wasn't all that had changed him but she had to. Leaving him the way she did, the way that everyone seemed to leave him had left scars that were far deeper than those that blessed his skin.
Distance, timing
Breakdown, fighting
Silence, the train runs off its tracks
Kiss me, try to fix it
Could you just try to listen?
Hang up, give up
"Why won't you just listen to me" She begged him as tears ran down her face.
"I am listening, I am. But I don't know what you want me to do" he responded with a raised voice.
"I want you to try. You gave up before I even came home. You never wanted this to work" she yelled, her voice breaking as she left the living room and made her way to the kitchen, wanting to be away from him but he had followed her.
"I didn't try! You can't be serious. You left me remember. If you had just talked to me before you left we would be fine" he yelled back even louder.
"I had to leave. I couldn't tell anyone where I was Remus and you know that. You can't blame this all on me"
"No you're right I can't blame this all on you, but I do blame a large amount of it on you and you alone. You handled the situation terribly and left me to handle everything alone. We could have done it together. A simple explanation, even one more line in your letter would have saved so much but you couldn't have cared less" He ranted, however, she didn't hear the last of his sentence as she had left. she walked out of the house and appeated to Marlene's house. She was simply too tired, too exhausted to carry on. She had given up.
For the life of us we can't get back A beautiful magic love affair
For the second time in their relationship she had moved out, she had turned home a week later when she knew Remus would be at work and she packed her bags, throwing everything she could find that belonged to her into boxes and Marlene helping her move them to her flat.
Marlene shared a flat with Alice and the pair had agreed to let her stay at their flat until she found her own place. Sleeping on their couch was a far better option than staying with Remus anymore, not when their home had grown so tense.
She left a note on the kitchen counter, much like the one she had left him all those years ago, though this time she explained. She explained that she loved him and that she was sure in another life they would be together, for they would have been good together had the world not decided otherwise. Had they entered the adult world under better circumstances she was sure they would have lasted and lived happily ever after and she let him know this.
Their love had been beautiful, it had bloomed bright and strong. However too much had happened and no matter what they did to try and fix things between them it was to no avail. They couldn't return to what they were it was simply impossible.
What a sad
Beautiful tragic love affair
And like all good stories, there's came to an end. It started as young love and developed. However, the world had been cruel to them and all they had left was a tragedy.
It was with the bittersweet realisation she accepted that going their separate ways was the purest, most sincere way they could show their love for one another. For though they loved each other without a doubt, their story was not a love story but rather a story of two broken people who just so happened to experience love.
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teddy-bear-surprise · 3 years
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hi!! how are you? i seen your post about wanting to write headcannons or blurbs and i didn't know if you wanted them to be birthday related but osbddkndjdd staying up until exactly 12 am with peter and once it hits, the reader gives him a bunch of kisses & let's him now how happy she is to be with him!!!
This story is also available on AO3 and Wattpad!
Hi! Thank you so much for the request, I'm doing great today and I hope you are too <3
MASTERLIST
Title: Midnight Birthday
Word Count: ~2.4k
Warnings: None (they joke around about poop and farts, which makes me sound immature, but I promise it’s funny and not like serious)
Context needed: Y/N
I deviated slightly from the prompt on accident, but I hope you enjoy it :)
Your phone rang loudly for the third time, prompting you to finally pick up. Normally, you would ignore everyone’s phone calls, but you realized that Peter was the one calling you. You had set a special ringtone for him, just so this wouldn’t happen, yet he still had to call multiple times just to get your attention.
“Hey, Peter! Sorry I didn’t pick up before… You know how it is, right?”
Peter chuckled on the other end of the line, “Yeah, I know. We should really come up with a better system for you. I don’t even want to imagine what would happen if there was an emergency and they had to call you. I know you can’t see me right now, but just the thought gave me goosebumps.”
You heard him shudder, “I’m sure you’re very goosebumpy, Spider-Kid.”
“Hey!” He asserted jokingly, “You know that I prefer ‘Spider-Man’, you know that. And don’t be mean to me! I’m over here calling to invite you out to dinner and this is what I get? I am beyond hurt. I will never recover.” Peter emphasized each word as sarcastically as he possibly could.
“Oh, get over yourself drama queen. Spider-Boy, Spider-Kid, Spider-Man, it’s all the same thiiinnggggg. Just take the compliment, hun. In thirty years– when you’re all old, wrinkly, and a Spider-Senior –you’ll be missing the days when people called you Spider-Kid. Now, what were you saying about dinner?”
“I said I wanted to invite you out to dinner! Were you not listening?”
You rolled your eyes and wished he could see your face right now. “I got that part, genius. I meant like what kind of dinner… Y’know, Where? When? The details, Pete, the details.”
“Oohhhh, that would make sense.” He laughed quietly, shaking his head at his own stupidity. “I was thinking that we could go to that restaurant you love, you know the one you were talking about the other day… Ummmm I think it was called Sveleka? Right? So we could go there around 7…”
Peter’s voice trailed off as he tried to remember the details of his plan and you cut in. “It’s Veselka, but that would be great, Pete. I’ll see you there at 7, love you.”
You hung up the phone before Peter even got a chance to reply. Your phone skills were rudimentary, to say the least, and it always got you into trouble. Luckily, Peter understood your bizarre hatred of phones and phone calls, allowing you to talk to him without worrying too much.
You knew that his birthday was tomorrow and you had developed a plan of your own. It was supposed to be a surprise, and the last thing you were expecting was for him to ask you out to dinner the night before his own birthday. In a way, it made you appreciate him even more, knowing that he loved you enough to randomly call you and ask you out to dinner. But now, thanks to his unexpected decision, you only had two hours to rearrange everything before meeting up with him for dinner. You stared at the giant teddy bear sitting on your bed and sighed. Even though your plan was technically easier to carry out now, you felt a twinge of annoyance about having to modify your schedule.
Originally, you wanted to sneak into Peter’s apartment, along with May’s help, and surprise him with a giant teddy bear that said “I love you” when you hugged it. Ideally, you would get there right at midnight, as the night turned from August 9th to 10th, and show him that you cared. That you cared about his birthday, his happiness, and his wellbeing.
You shook away the thought and positioned the teddy bear so that it looked like it wanted to give you a hug. In between its warm, fluffy arms, you placed a small box. This box was technically Peter’s real present. It contained a small, circular locket with one half of a glass spider and a key. In the very same box, you included a long handwritten note telling Peter how much you loved him and how proud you were of him. Once you rearranged the box and bear to your liking, you began to get ready.
The closet of your apartment was minuscule, as was the whole place, and the limited space had led you to develop a very limited wardrobe. Your outfits only consisting of basic black pieces, one dark green jacket, and three pairs of shoes. Peter always joked that he loved how your closet all looked the same, claiming that it made it easier to find you if you ever got lost in a crowd. You both knew that was far from true since everyone in Manhattan loves wearing black, but you appreciated that he was so kind about your unconventional fashion decision.
You grabbed a simple, long black skirt and a silky black tank top, changing out of your pajamas. It might have been five o’clock in the afternoon, but pajamas stayed on until you left the house. That was just the rule. While you fixed your hair and makeup, you began to worry that Peter would figure out your plan. It was a slightly irrational thought, especially since he was socially inept and on multiple occasions forgot when his birthday was. Still, the thought plagued your mind until the moment you were ready to leave.
As you walked to Grand Central station, you texted Aunt May, letting her know that the plan had changed. May had been the biggest supporter of you and Peter’s relationship from the start. Honestly, she was the only one you could trust because she was the only one who could keep both your and Peter’s identities a secret. You hopped onto the Six heading downtown, hoping that she would reply before your service completely cut out.
You: Hi, May. Peter invited me out for dinner at the last minute so we might have to rearrange a bit.
May: This is why I told you to make plans with him ahead of time, so we wouldn’t run into any bumps like this.
You: I know, sorry. I wasn’t expecting him to do this.
May: I was kind of expecting it… I made a bet with myself that he would do this and it looks like I won!
You: You bet on us?? Is this like a reoccurring thing???
May: Definitely not. That would be immature. I’d never do that.
You shook your head at your phone, laughing at how obvious it was that May bet on your and Peter’s relationship. To you, May was like a second mother, or just a really cool aunt. She seemed to understand how to be just serious enough, but not stiff. Not to mention that she was ten times nicer and more supportive of you than your actual mom.
You: I’m gonna pretend that the last part of the conversation never happened. But what I wanted to tell you was that I’m going to meet Peter for dinner around 7 at Veselka so I won’t be able to go back to my apartment and then to Peter’s in time. I just left the bear at my apartment and I’m thinking of asking Peter to go home with me after we eat, what do you think?
May: Sounds like a solid plan, kiddo. Good luck, and please don’t let Peter eat too many of those sauerkraut pierogies this time, he was gassy for two days. It wasn’t fun.
You: Thanks for the gross heads-up, May. Byeeee
You got off at Astor Place and walked in silence towards the restaurant. You were looking at the ground, head hanging low, when Peter called out to you from across the street.
“Y/N, hi!”
You looked up at him and smiled at the goofy boy waving at you. “Hi, Peter!”
Jogging across the street, you made eye contact with him. He held out a hand towards you, helping you onto the sidewalk, and embraced you. Peter kissed the top of your head softly and gave you one last squeeze before letting go.
“So, I guess we’re both early then. I gotta say that I’m shocked, Parker. I wasn’t expecting you to get here before me.”
“What can I say, I’m full of surprises.” Peter winked at you.
---
The two of you merrily ate your dinner, with Peter threatening to instigate a food fight more than once. You talked about anything and everything, by the time you two were ready to pay the bill, it was almost 11 and you were stuffed.
Peter rubbed his hand on his stomach, poking at it, “I think it would be physically impossible for me to eat any more. Like I would just spchwoooo,” he mimicked an explosion with his hands, “explode.”
“I’m just glad we didn’t order any of those sauerkraut pierogies, May said they made you all gassy last time. I don’t even want to know what would have happened if you ate those and the stuffed cabbage.”
“What?! May said that? I never get gassy. Ever.” Peter lowered his voice, “I’m literally superhuman, it takes more than some sauerkraut and cabbage to mess with this iron stomach.”
“That’s not even close to being true. You had explosive diarrhea after that burrito two weeks ago, and don’t blame the food, you were the only one out of the three of us who got sick. Did you forget that May and I had to take you to the hospital? Because I don’t think that counts as an ‘iron stomach’.”
The two of you argued about stomachs, diarrhea, and food the rest of the way to your apartment, stopping every few minutes to point out airplanes flying overhead. You insisted on walking home so you could arrive almost exactly at midnight. Plus having Spider-Man by your side was basically a guarantee of safety, even in Manhattan. Peter held your hand the whole time, swinging it like a smitten teenager. After walking nearly fifty blocks, you arrived at your apartment. You noticed that Peter seemed hesitant, only lightly resting his foot on the first step leading up the building.
“C’mon, let’s watch a movie or something. I don’t want you to leave yet.” You pouted and tugged on Peter’s hand, pulling him up into the doorway.
“Well then, I guess I’m not leaving.”
---
The two of you were cuddled on your small couch watching Buzzfeed Unsolved, Peter’s favorite show, but you weren’t paying attention. Every few seconds your eyes would dart up at the clock, waiting for the hour hand to strike 12. Peter was entranced, never letting his attention deviate from the screen, and he didn’t even notice that you weren’t looking at the TV. The minutes went by slowly and you were counting down the seconds until midnight, gripping onto Peter’s arm. He thought that you were just scared by the prospect of unsolved murders, not that you were anxiously waiting for his birthday.
The last second passed and the clock struck 12, you immediately jumped out of Peter’s embrace and turned to him. Peter sat up in shock, confused by your sudden movement. You took the opportunity to straddle him and grab his face.
“Happy birthday, My Love.”
You peppered his face with sweet kisses and his eyes widened. His body softened under your touch as a feeling of love and happiness filled his heart. Peter snaked his hands up your thighs, letting them rest on your hips, and squeezed softly. You gave him one last kiss on the lips and rested your forhead against his.
“I have a surprise for you, Birthday Boy.” You lifted yourself off of his lap and held your hand out to him.
Peter took your hand and followed you obediently, curious to see what his surprise was. You opened the door to your room, revealing the large stuffed bear and its matching box. Peter let go of your hand and excitedly ran towards your bed.
Before he could say anything, you began speaking, “I know it’s not much, and I know you probably thought that I’d have like a trail of rose petals in here or something like that. But I wanted to show you that my love for you isn’t just about our physical relationship, my love for you i-is emotional and wholesome. I love you, Peter Parker. I truly love you and I’m so happy that you’re mine. I mean, every morning I wake up, I remember that I’m dating you, and that makes me the happiest person in the world.” You reached over to the box in Peter’s hands, “So, Peter Parker, will you accept this key?”
You opened the box and Peter’s cheeks glowed red. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he nodded his head.
“Yes! I love you so much too. I- Thank you,” He paused, “Oh no. Wait, I don’t have a key for yo–”
“Pete, this is your birthday present. I wouldn’t expect you to give me a gift on your birthday, silly.”
He rambled energetically, “You’re right… I’m still going to get you a copy though. Oh my gosh. I love this so much, and is this a spider because I’m Spider-Man?! Where’s the other half? This is so cool!”
You held up your matching locket, opening it to reveal the other half. “Yep, it is because you’re Spider-Boy. The best superhero in town. And, don’t throw away the little note at the bottom. Well, don’t open it now, but if you ever need a reminder of how much I love you, just read that note.”
Peter held your hands in his and pulled you down, both of you crashing into the giant teddy bear. The second you fell onto it, it blurted a freakish, distorted “I love you”, scaring both of you. You jumped up and looked at a wide-eyed Peter.
“Y’know, maybe we don’t need the bear. I don’t really want to be on the next episode of Unsolved.”
You laughed at Peter’s joke, pushing the bear onto the ground and kissed him. His soft lips tasted like the blueberry dessert you shared and his skin was as soft as butter.
You pulled away, foreheads resting together once more. Peter whispered, “Thank you for giving me the happiest midnight birthday, darling.”
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ladyrivia · 4 years
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In the World of the Witcher (Geralt x Reader)
Request: Can you write a future!reader x Geralt fic? Somehow reader ends up in Geralt time and travels with him. He eventually finds out she’s not from around there when she’s trying to secretly get back even if she fell in love with Geralt?
Pairing: Geralt x Reader
Authors Note: I’ve never written something like this before, so I hope this turns out okay! Thank you for requesting!
-
ZAP
You landed on the ground on all fours, the wind circling the dead leaves around you. You got up and brushed off the dirt on your costume, well, it wasn’t really a costume anymore. 
You were a part of a scientific group working experimenting with time travel, before they tested out the machine they wanted to make sure you would be prepared for the time period. It wasn’t an exact science yet, this was the first trial of many to come, so they made you dress in multiple layers of old fashioned clothes so you would survive in any weather. 
They provided you with a satchel with a good amount of gold and silver so you would be able to purchase necessary items until your return.
Your necklace, one that looked like a simple locket was your way to message back home, it being a small portal of sorts so your team and you could pass notes.
The trotting of a horse could be heard approaching, you turned to see who it was.
Damn, the men of this time were so much better than back home.
A big man sat upon his horse, his yellow cat-like eyes analyzing you. He wore all black armour, a necklace of a wolf hung around his neck.
“You shouldn’t be out here, don’t you know of the attacks?” The man narrowed his eyes suspiciously at you.
“I- uh, lost my way sir..” You lied, remembering the training that you were given.
He grunted and looked at the sky, it was becoming nightfall.
“Come ‘ere.” He extended his hand down towards you to pull you onto his horse. You stared at it for a second, debating if you should take it or not. You glanced up at him, his face had small scars littered across it, his white hair starting to fall out from the tie that he put in it this morning. 
You sighed, and decided to trust the mysterious man. Grabbing your arm, he helped pull you onto his horse.
You sat behind him, careful not to touch him as you weren’t sure of how he would react.
It was quiet as you two made your way along the path, the sun setting in the distance.
Though you didn’t talk, the man seemed to be able to read you like a book.
“You have no idea where you are, do you?” He spoke, turning his head to look at you from the corner of his eye.
“No..” You said sheepishly, realizing how difficult this task actually was and how little was planned. How were they planning to get you back? Were they actually going to retrieve you?
He shook his head, trying to figure out what he was going to do with you. He knew there was something off about you, most people immediately say something about him being a Witcher, but you didn’t. It was almost like you didn’t know what a Witcher was. It was strange to him, but not unwelcome. It was nice to be seen as something else than a mutant monster hunter.
“I’m Geralt of Rivia.” He introduced himself, maybe if he let down his guard a bit, they would too.
“I’m Y/N.” You chose not to add anything after, hopefully he would just assume that you were a peasant or just moved around too much to claim a place as home.
Arriving in town, Geralt scouted out the nearest pub and inn. He hitched Roach at the entranced and helped you down from the horse and held the door open for you. Upon entering the whole pub went quiet.
“Witcher!” One of the many drunk men yelled. “Get out of ‘ere, we take care of our own monsters!”
“Can a man not rest?” Geralt growled, which seemed to settle the crowd. “2 ales please.” He asked the barmaid who gave him a sympathetic look and nodded, quickly rushing off to get his order. Geralt sat down and gestured to the seat next to him, inviting you to sit. You accepted his offer and awkwardly sat down, not used to the clothes you were wearing.
“I-uh-thank you.” 
“No need to thank me.” He grunted.
The barmaid returned with two large mugs filled with ale and placed them down in front of you both.
Geralt immediately started to down the drink, you on the other hand smelled it and took a small sip. It took everything in you to not gag and spit it out. 
Geralt noticed your disgusted reaction and chuckled.
“Not for you?” He quipped.
“No.” You pushed your mug towards him.
“Uh miss,” He called over the barmaid. “Do you have a room for the night?”
“7 gold.” She nodded. Geralt shifted in his seat, grabbing his coin pouch and passed her the gold for the room and the ales. “First room up the stairs to the right.” She smiled.
More time silently passed between you both as he finished both ales, listening to the drunken banter of other patrons.
This would be the first of many days you and Geralt shared together, both of you being unable to go your separate ways. He enjoyed your company, you were understanding and didn’t annoy him like Jaskier did.
It was difficult to catch up with the normal life of Geralt, your world being so vastly different than his. Your world didn’t have monsters, but Geralt’s was full of them, all the time.
The first time he returned to you bloody and bruised, you thought you were going to faint. You helped patch him up, your gentle touches making Geralt swoon.
You two were undeniably in love, which made things even more complicated with the project. 
Though you loved him, you were truly homesick. You were communicating through handwritten notes, rolled and passed through your locket.
It was late one night, Geralt was out on a hunt and you were at the inn, talking to your team about the next part of the plan. He sneaked inside, using his years of hunting experience to creep up on you.
He knew something was off, why did your hands always have ink on them? If you were writing notes, where were they going? There was something foreign about you even though you looked just like everyone else. There was just something off and he was figure it out.
You were in the middle of shoving the note through the open locket, the inside of it whirring and glowing as the paper traveled through time.
“What-” He started, you jumped and instinctively tried closing the locket, but since it was in the middle of processing it would not shut.
“I can explain!” You looked at him with wide eyes, scared of being mistaken as a monster.
You explained everything, the world you came from, the project, your old home, everything. He sat and listened intently, never taking his eyes off you.
“I’m sorry for not telling you before-” A kiss cut you off.
“I understand, there’s nothing to apologize for. Whatever path you take, I will still love you.” He grasped your shoulders, his yellow eyes staring into yours.
Maybe you will stay in his world after all. 
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thirteen-beaxhes · 5 years
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Sad, Beautiful, Tragic (A Tyrus Songfic)
Summary: Cyrus is tired of being the good boy, hopeful and patient. And he never expected his beautiful love to become a tragedy. A Tyrus Songfic to Sad, Beautiful, Tragic by Taylor Swift.
Words: 2276
AO3 LINK IN REBLOG
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Long handwritten note, deep in your pocket Words, how little they mean, when you're a little too late I stood right by the tracks, your face in a locket Good girls, hopeful they'll be and long they will wait
“Fuck,” Cyrus groaned, dropping his phone onto his bed, rubbing his eyes with his palms. It didn’t help at all, his eyes feeling rawer and dry more than anything else. The tears that had been there just a few moments ago had evaporated, leaving behind stains and heaviness and rawness. On his bed, his phone lay silent.
Tired. That’s what Cyrus was, tired of waiting, tired of sitting still waiting for what he needed to hear, tired of sticking around while the foundations and pillars crumbled around him. Tired of having hope when there was not even a drop of it around. Tired tired he was fucking tired.
But Cyrus Goodman was the resident good boy, wasn’t he? Good people are hopeful, they have innocence in their heart, holding out faith for the people around them. To the point where faith and hope was a currency and good people were supposed to be generous millionaires.
Another thing good people do was wait. Wait and wait and wait, until time itself would become sand and blow away in the wind. And Cyrus was waiting now, waiting and waiting for something that would probably never come. Because he was a good boy. And good boys waited for however long it took.
Cyrus sank down into his chair, reaching out to trace the pictures pinned up on his board, specifically containing one person.
The one person who Cyrus just needed to see for one second to hear what he needed to hear.
The one person Cyrus wanted to run as far away from as possible just to never see him again.
He, somehow, managed to fall asleep, the cool hum of his air conditioning sounding like the chirping of birds, taking him to a place where things didn’t go wrong, where the nights were bursting with colour in the black sky, where the days were golden. Where ‘I love you’ meant what it was supposed to mean.
When he walked into school the next day, his hoodie up, music blaring through his headphones, he earned the stares and whispers following him down the hall, the evidence of his night visible in his dark circles and puffy eyes. But no one asked or whispered too loud. Because for the first time, good boy Cyrus Goodman’s eyes carried daggers, and everything about him screamed stay the fuck away.
Not everyone got the message.
“Cy,” a voice said, and Cyrus slammed his locker door, revealing the one person responsible.
TJ.
“What do you want?” he said bitterly, and TJ sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“Please, just please stop this,” he said quietly, glancing around. “People are talking.”
“Oh really? I didn’t notice. I didn’t notice the stares or the whispers or the comments,” Cyrus said, his voice growing angrier with every word, the venom rivalling that of bitter almonds.
“Just hear me out,” TJ said, moving to shuffle around in his pockets. He searched for a few minutes, hunting around, and took out many things, still unsatisfied. “Wait, uh, it, it has to, has to be here, somewhere,” he whispered, finally pulling out an almost torn, crumpled up piece of paper with writing scribbled on it, located deep, deep in TJ’s pocket.
“You gonna read me a speech?” Cyrus said flatly, and TJ squeezed his eyes shut, looking down at the paper as he began to read.
“I’m sorry for hurting you, I really, really am. I was an idiot, and I shouldn’t have done that. You don’t deserve that. You never deserve that. Please, just forgive me Cy, please,” TJ read out, the last sentence said right to Cyrus as he folded the paper.
Cyrus stared back, drawing a shaky breath as he felt a tear threaten to roll carelessly down his cheek. He looked down at his feet, drawing a careful breath, shaking his head.
“I can’t do that TJ,” Cyrus said quietly, and TJ gasped slightly, gulping as a tear rolled down his cheek. Cyrus looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold it back. But, he had to face TJ for the next part, walking away as soon as he said it.
“You were too late.”
We had a beautiful magic love there What a sad beautiful tragic love affair
*one week later*
Cyrus trudged home, his feet dragging behind him as choked sobs escaped his lips, a blubbering mess as he pulled himself down the streets. He felt the tiny thread that had held his heart together snap when he walked out of the school halls that day, looking across the courtyard to see TJ talking to his basketball friends, his back to him, his friends laughing.
And TJ joining in with them, laughing without a care in the world.
And seeing him so carefree, so lost in laughter, so happy, Cyrus broke. That thread snapped apart, and his heart fell into pieces, the shards now being swept away by the groundskeeper of the school.
Not because he was happy, although that tore at Cyrus, that only a few days later TJ had moved on, as if without a trace, and he was left behind to deal with the cataclysmic consequences. But it was the fact that his smile reminded Cyrus of the good times, the times that had been the happiest of his life, when they were in love and that was enough.
Cyrus and TJ had been magical from the start. Their hearts wove together to create such an enamouring and enchanting symphony, neither could live without the sound and the feeling it left them with. It shone red in Cyrus’ mind, burning, passionate, blinding. It knocked Cyrus off his feet, the breath being sucked out of his lungs with everything TJ did. Butterflies made their home in his stomach, and he swore that every time he had a date with TJ, his head would go light, spinning with all the emotions racing through his mind.
Beautiful.
Magical.
Red.
Which is why it was such a shame it had to end the way it did.
Cyrus and TJ had kept their relationship hidden but open. So, while they had never explicitly said anything, Cyrus thought, with the way TJ held his hand in the corridors and hugged him, and acted around him, as if he was the only person who mattered, that they didn’t need to say anything for people to see what they were. And he had thought, with the way he smiled at TJ, and held his hand, and hugged him on the basketball court after games, they were on the same page with this.
But oh, the universe is cruel, and it makes even the most beautiful thing a tragedy capable of making the hardest hearts crumble into rubble and tears. Because it turns out, they had never been on the same page.
*2 weeks ago*
“Hey TJ.”
Cyrus paused the search for his books in his locker, peeking out from around the corner as he saw a girl approach TJ, twirling her hair and smiling in the way that Cyrus saw himself smile at TJ when he thought about him. TJ was at his locker, and he turned to face her with his characteristic smirk. Cyrus smiled to himself, deciding to listen in just for the fun of it.
“Hey Sandy,” TJ said with a smile, and Sandy giggled loudly, earning some stares from students walking down the hall.
“So, um, I was, uh, you were amazing at the game the other day!” she muttered, fumbling over her words.
TJ laughed, the sound being a melody of sweetness in Cyrus’ heart. “Thanks, but you have to thank Dan for our win, his basket was amazing.”
“Yeah, yeah Dan was cool,” she said, changing the topic. “So, uh, I was, I wanted to tell you, that uh, I really like you TJ.”
“I like you too Sandy!” TJ responded, and Cyrus wanted to slam his head against the locker in second hand embarrassment.
“Uh, I don’t mean it like that,” Sandy said nervously. “I like, like you.”
Cyrus could almost hear the shift in tone, as the realisation hit TJ. “Oh,” he whispered.
“Yeah,” Sandy said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “So, do you wanna go on a date some time?”
Cyrus let out a small breath, hoping that TJ was kind in telling her no, but what he heard next made him drop his books, his heart plummeting as his head was sent for a whirl.
“Yeah sure. I’ll text you.”
Sandy laughed, walking away as she squealed, and TJ closed his locker and walked away. And Cyrus stood there alone, the words echoing in his mind, a clashing cacophony in his mind as he took time to think.
He said yes. TJ said yes to that girl. To a date. To what he knew would be a date. Why did he say yes? Did he not think about Cyrus? Wasn’t it obvious they were together? They weren’t hiding anymore.
Were they?
Had they ever even been on the same page?
Cyrus felt the world crash around him, or that may have just been the school bell. But he shook his head, tossing aside the thoughts as he made his way to class.
Cyrus let out a shaky breath, thinking back to that horrible time, and all that followed, all that led to him walking away from TJ’s apology, to him breaking down over TJ’s smile in the courtyard.
Distance, timing, breakdown, fighting Silence, this train runs off its tracks Kiss me, try to fix it, could you just try to listen? Hang up, give up, for the life of us we can't get back
*13 days ago*
Cyrus had been incredibly successful in avoiding TJ, his height finally giving him an advantage as he manoeuvred around the crowds. He couldn’t face TJ, and the fact that he heard Sandy gush about her ‘date’ with TJ wasn’t pushing him to communicate.
Finally, TJ cornered Cyrus by the gate of the school, his eyes sunken and accusing as he stared at Cyrus.
“You avoiding me?” he asked, and Cyrus squeezed his eyes shut, sidestepping to walk away from TJ, but he stuck a hand out, grabbing his elbow. “Cy! Talk to me please.”
“Why? Shouldn’t you be with someone else? Isn’t this too public for you?” Cyrus asked bitterly, freeing his hand from TJ’s grasp, walking away. TJ looked confused, glancing around nervously to see if anyone was staring, before chasing after Cyrus in the street.
Cyrus didn’t even need to turn around to know TJ was coming up behind him and he stopped in his path, letting TJ catch up to him.
“What do you mean?” TJ asked, wheezing slightly. Cyrus suppressed a groan, turning around slowly.
“I hope you and Sandy had fun,” he said quietly, and instantly, the look that flooded onto TJ’s face made Cyrus want to scream and run away.
“Cyrus, I, I,” TJ started, but Cyrus lifted his hand, cutting him off.
“Why did you do it, TJ?” he asked, his voice cracking. “Why did you say yes to her? I thought we were being open about us.”
“No, no, we haven’t told anyone,” TJ said, shaking his head, his eyes showing himself being backed into a corner.
“Then what was with all the hand-holding and the hugs and everything?” Cyrus asked pleadingly. TJ looked down, ashamed as he sank into himself, hands stuffed in his pockets.
“I, I just thought that it was cuz we always act like that, and people kept assuming it’s a friend thing, so I kept doing it so we could hide in plain sight.”
Cyrus stepped back, blinking as he processed what TJ was saying. “So, you’re seeing Sandy now.”
“No, no, Cy it isn’t like that,” TJ started, shaking his head and lunging forward, trying to kiss Cyrus to stop the conversation, but Cyrus pushed him off, staggering back.
“TJ, seriously?” he yelled, stepping back. “You aren’t even listening to me. What’s the point?”
With that, Cyrus shook his head, walking away, tears rolling down his face as he ran back home, TJ left on the street, looking at the sky.
That was when they gave up. Or at least, when Cyrus gave up. Because they wouldn’t find their way back, even if they tried to.
We had a beautiful magic love there What a sad beautiful tragic love affair
Cyrus made his way back to his room, the tears slower and more like a silent stream than a violent hiccupping disaster. He went into his room and began to take down everything that reminded him of TJ. His posters, the pictures, the books, the notes. Soon enough, he was ripping things off the wall, flinging books on the floor and balling up hoodies and tossing them away. He went on a rampage, purging his room of everything that even remotely reminded him of the green-eyed boy he had loved so much.
As the redness faded from his vision, Cyrus looked at his floor, covered in torn up paper, strewn clothes and crumpled book pages. Gulping, Cyrus wiped his forehead and sunk to the ground among the debris of his relationship, staring at the bare walls around him.
As if everything around him had been TJ and now he was alone again, trying to fill himself.
There was no more magic in his life.
~~~~~~~~
sorry not sorry yes i am gonna say again it sUcks
General taglist: 
@imhereforthetryus @thelonious-jagger-smitten @youve-got-to-be-kippen-me @tjskipping @luzawithoutu 
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Satinalia in Thedas!
Hey everyone! Throw on a mask and whip up some gifts and prepare for the night! Satinalia is a joyous celebration in Thedas to have bunches of fun and finish with a great feast! What's your OCs doing during all of this? (Template)
Who does your Warden celebrate with?
-Ayesleigh Surana ‘n gang (Like all the original companions, Awakenings, and Witch Hunt) all come together in celebration at Alistair’s castle. Leliana even invited Sketch over. It was grand!
Who does your Hawke celebrate with?
-Lucille Hawke arrives at Aveline’s with Merrill, Isabela, Varric, Fenris, Orana, ‘n Bethany. (Sorry Aveline lol)
Who does your Inquisitor celebrate with?
-The Inquisition (Saar Ataash Adaar, companions (Except Solas *cough cough*), and advisors (Except Leliana, she was with Ayesleigh)) and Bull’s Chargers makes the journey to Kirkwall to Viscount's Keep to celebrate with Varric, Cole, and Maryden. Although this is a separate time from the DA2 gang, Varric dragged Aveline to meet Cassandra. While the festivities continued, Saar escaped to go celebrate with the Valo-Kas mercenary group.
What presents did each of them give? (Aka, prank gifts, carefully picked/handcrafted gifts, simple charms, elaborate things?)
-Ayesleigh made bracelets for each of them, each coupled with a small charm that meant something between them.
-Lucille made silly sweaters.
-Saar Ataash went and bought them things, like books/art kits/gameboards/jewelry. 
What did they receive from their guests?
-Alistair, Oghren, Zevran, and Nathaniel all gave Ayesleigh daggers. Sten, Wynne, Valenna, and Ariane each gave something tied with their background. Morrigan, Shale, Anders, and Finn just scrounged, but its nice none the less.
-Merrill and Isabela made a gift together. Varric threw in some money and a new staff adorned with a crystal skull. Fenris, Bethany, and Aveline gave socks. Orana knitted matching hats for Hawke and the Mabari.
-Cassandra, The Iron Bull, Dorian, Vivi, and Josephine gave something from their homeland. Blackwall and Sera made something together. Cullen and Varric bought Saar Ataash Adaar some fitted clothing, although what Cullen got was a bit tacky. The Valo-Kas went out for drinks and then some.
Does any of the LIs do anything special for their lover?
-Leliana gave Ayesleigh a scrapbook full of pressed flowers and handwritten notes she had made while both of them were away on business.
-Merrill made a necklace out of Dalish materials, including a locket with a professional drawing of them both inside. Merrill has one identical.
-Sera (with the help of Blackwall) had made a mirror that had been adorned with wood, flowers, rocks, and ores. (Blackwall helped gather some of the materials and lay his weight on some of the parts to hold it together for some time. They had good fun keeping secret.)
What's the main dish?
-A warm Vichyssoise.
-Aveline and Donnic work together to make Stuffed Vegi ‘n Meat Pockets; breaded pockets filled with a tomato sauce, onion, deer venison, cheese, and bits of mushroom.
-Lots and lots of pastries, but the main is a Sweet Potato Casserole with Marshmallows.
Will there be a food fight?
-Probably not, but if it arrises, so be it.
-Not in Aveline's house. 
-Hell yeah! Quick! Cover Josie in some towels so she can play along too!
At each feast, who serves drinks?
-Ayesleigh will probably want too, but Alistair will insist her to sit while the servants do so.
-Isabela and Lucille do so together.
-Probably Blackwall and The Iron Bull, just for fun. Cute aprons for extra points!
Hot cocoa, warm tea, or honey mead?
-AS: Half hot cocoa/half honey mead.
-LH: Warm tea for Merrill and honey mead for everyone else.
-SAA- Bring on in the mead!
Will there be a sleepover?
-Maybe. Maybe not. Some may go back to their rooms in the inn in the market if they traveled, but I’m sure some will stay.
-Hell fuckin’ yeah! Cuddle time.
-Nope. The place will reopen for business the following day, so lots of people leave at random times to retire to a close enough inn or tavern.
Is there anything else you would like to add? Do so now!
-So sorry for the mess Aveline 
Tagging time! I tag @cullywullycake , @fen-harel , @caffeinated-mabari , @tevinter-amatus , @radicalmahariel , @fourletterepithet (I dunno why I can't tag yoouuu) and anyone else who would love to do this! Have fun, but remember you don't always have too!!
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1. Favorite place to write.
On break during school or work.
2. Favorite part of writing.
The exciting, vibrant, fuzzy feeling I get when something comes out really good.
3. Least favorite part of writing.
Writer's block.
4. Do you have writing habits or rituals?
Not writing but still holding onto the someday mantra.
5. Books or authors that influenced your style the most.
I don't really know, I read a lot. Like A LOT a lot.
6. Favorite character you ever created.
Justin Gabe Leon of The Consequences of Beth. He is supposed to be like the good guy, but he is way worse than anyone realizes.
7. Favorite author.
Stephen King.
8. Favorite trope to write.
Hurt/Comfort.
9. Least favorite trope to write.
Anything with a bad ending.
10. Pick a writer to co-write a book with and tell us what you’d write about.
l'd write a story with my middle school best friend that shall not be named. Likely a romance because we both are reluctantly prone to writing them.
11. Describe your writing process from scratch to finish.
I write like crazy and professionally for like a week and then I get busy with something else and the inspiration disperses and I only write sometimes. Like only when I get an idea or something. A lot of fanfictions to be honest.
12. How do you deal with self-doubts?
I tell myself it is in my head. Most everyone who had read my stuff thinks it has a lot of potential.
13. How do you deal with writers block?
I try to write through it. If I'm really stuck, I rewind and rewrite already written scenes until I get a further idea of what to do with it.
14. What’s the most research you ever put into a book?
Probably when I wrote a fanfiction of Soul Eater and I needed some information about some secondray characters. Most of the time i go by a write what you know mantra.
15. Where does your inspiration come from?
My inspiration comes from other writers works.
16. Where do you take your motivation from?
My motivation comes from nothing except random feelings of "what the hell am I doing with my life."
17. On average, how much writing do you get done in a day?
On average, I write very little. It's mostly whatever I have to write for class.
18. What’s your revision or rewriting process like?
I rewrite as I go. Then again at the end. Then repeat. It just keeps going.
19. First line of a WIP you’re working on.
“I was woken by the gunshots.”
20. Post a snippet of a WIP you’re working on.
Amidst a dreary fog, a young woman finds herself disoriented by looming lights, becoming closer and larger by the second. Her vision glares and the few paces she could see in front of herself fade away. She blindly throws her arms out to keep upright as she continues towards her destination and, more importantly, away from the glowing orbs behind her. Just as her vision begins to return, it is enveloped in darkness again. Had the lights dispersed? She glances over her shoulder for a moment. They are still there, but smaller, and concealed by the trees. She sighs relievedly and turns back around. A cold chill rushes past her. Annoyedly, she tugs at the strings of her hoodie. The thick fabric falls over her eyes. Before she can even reach up to move it out of her view, she kicks herself in the heel. Flailing about wildly, she stumbles forward. Long blades of grass grab at her ankles. 
A strangled yelp escapes her as she finally hits the ground. Her palms burn, sending worse tingling sensations up her arms until they give out completely. She fights to sit up again, flailing backward and landing on her butt. Cold rainwater soaks through her jeans. She grimaces. 
Then, she gasps. Little shards of rocks cover her palms, trapped in tiny cuts. She brushes them away the best she can. Most of the pebbles fall onto her lap while others remain deeply embedded. Cursing to herself, she looks around for something to work them out with. More of the same tiny rocks surround her. They stretch far in front of her and even farther to her left. It’s a driveway.
Scrambling to her feet, she begins to dash down the road. Nothing appears in front of her or changes around her. She slows to a stop, breathing heavily. It’s too dark to tell if she is heading in the right direction. Everything is either black, gray, or disguised by scattered, glittery orbs. The lights begin to form into one, brightening the path in front of her. Not too far away is a house.
Despite how long she has been looking for it, it’s nothing extravagant. A simple trailer hidden by trees and lined by bushes. It’s hardly visible at all in fact. As she gets closer though, she notices good elements to the structure. A small porch leads up to the door, beside it is a bush, and between the two is just enough space for her to slip between.  
Crouching down, she pulls dead leaves and other muck over her like a blanket. Another sickening feeling moves through her as the moist goo makes contact with her bare skin. Or maybe the twists through her gut are caused by the sound of gravel crunching under the wheels of a car. The vehicle stops and the lights go out. 
A door flies open and someone steps out. He wanders cautiously towards her without shutting the door. Of course he saw her and of course he is going to be smart about confrontation. She closes her eyes and listens to him walk. Each stomp is closer than the last. Then it stops again and her eyelids turn orange. 
The yellow circle from a flashlight luminates the siding above her head. It rests there for a moment before dashing across the house. It reaches the woods and turns around again, following the same path before landing on her. Their eyes meet and he drops the flashlight. 
A minute passes and neither makes  an effort to retrieve it. It’s all so overwhelming. He anticipated a startled racoon; or even a deer; not the cowering eyes of his highschool sweetheart. Her name and everything else he wants to say attempts to seep between his lips, but he bites down before his thoughts become verbalized. If he allows himself to say, or do anything for that matter, he’s terrified of what he would do. 
The light was on them for merely a second, but that's all it took for him to recognize her and hear him. Six years should have been more than enough time for them to become strangers, but with her expression it is obvious she had no trouble identifying him as well. Picking up the flashlight and redirecting it to her, he takes in her aged form. Her hair is the same length and she bares the same expressions. Her name fights at the tip of his tongue again, the only thing he can think to say. “Beth?”
21. Post the last sentence you wrote in one of your WIP’s.
Not again, not again. 
22. How many drafts do you need until you’re satisfied and a project is ultimately done for you?
Yeah, haven’t figured that out yet. 
23. Single or multi POV, and why?
Single, definitely single. It can get confusing and I find it to be a bit of lazy writing... don’t come after me. 
24. Poetry or prose, and why?
Definitely poetry. I write a lot of it to decipher my feelings and it just sorta sounds cool. 
25. Linear or non-linear, and why?
It depends on the story. I definitely have a habit of writing non-linear. I’m not the type to start with a whole bunch of background, you learn as you go just like when you meet someone. 
26. Standalone or series, and why?
Standalone. I don’t like it as a reader because I want the conclusion within reach and I have a feeling a lot of my readers feel the same way. I can live with torturing with a dead character or two but I cannot make them die of anticipation. 
27. Do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished? 28. And who do you share them with?
I used to share rough drafts with people, but now I don’t even share polished stories. I don’t want to upset people or make them worry about me or get a bad review or to have my ideas stolen and done better... yeah, they are kinda for my eyes alone. 
29. Who do you write for?
I write for my future readers and for my own enjoyment. 
30. Favorite line you’ve ever written.
My favorite line I have ever written has to be “Don’t let the probable be more important than the definite.” 
31. Hardest character to write.
The hardest character to write is someone very positive. 
32. Easiest character to write.
The easiest character to write is Madeline from The Locket. 
33. Do you listen to music when you’re writing?
Sometimes. It depends on where I am when I am writing. 
34. Handwritten notes or typed notes?
Handwritten. It’s more memorable based on some studies I’ve read on studying and I have an addiction to notebooks. 
35. Tell some backstory details about one of your characters in your story
 Bethany is the accidental baby of a successful business women who abandoned her and an abusive, alcoholic father. She pushes people away to avoid being hurt and doesn’t really want anyone around anyways. Then she befriended the new boy at school and kissed him during a spur of a moment, last minute spiteful action against her late father. An orphan, she must trust the one person who doesn’t let her push him away. 
36. A spoiler for story 
Peter dies at the end. 
37. Most inspirational quote you’ve ever read or heard that’s still important to you.
“It’s not the absense of fear, it’s over coming it.” - Emma Watson.
38. Have you shared your outline of your story ________ with someone? If so, what did they think of it?
No, I’ve never shared an outline. I shared verbal ideas with my friends in middle school and “finished” stories with friends in elementary school. 
39. Do you base your characters of real people or not? If so, tell us about one.
No, I don’t base my characters off of real people. I think it is wrong. It is a way to deal I’m sure, but it is also hurtful. 
40. Original Fiction or Fanfiction, and why?
Both. I write fanfiction for practice and fiction as the “real deal”. 
41. How many stories do you work on at one time?
I work on one and will do random little prompts in between. 
42. How do you figure out your characters looks, personality, etc.
My characters are the first thing that comes to me. I don’t really know how I think of them, they mostly come from my dreams. 
43. Are you an avid reader?
Yes, I read and read and read and read some more. 
44. Best piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.
The best piece of feedback I’ve ever gotten was from my 5th grade teacher after just I started writing and finished my 1st “novel”. I still have the sticky note hanging on my wall she stuck on the inside of my notebook. 
45. Worst piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.
The worst piece feedback I’ve gotten is when my media teacher (I write articles) told me I’d make a good librarian because I’m organized, punctual, and love to read... but wouldn’t make it as a writer. 
46. What would your story look like as a tv show or movie? 
My story would definitely be a movie. It would have a cloudy, depressing filter on it like in Tim Burton films, but be live action and happy in parts. 
47. Do you start with characters or plot when working on a new story?
I start with the characters. I get attached and I form the world around them. 
48. Favorite genre to write in.
Realistic fiction. 
49. What do you find the hardest to write in a story, the beginning, the middle or the end?
The middle of the story is the hardest to write. When I begin I know how I want to start and end and am “faking it till I make it” in the middle. 
50. Weirdest story idea you’ve ever had.
The weirdest story idea I’ve ever had was definitely based on some dream I’ve had. There has been a lot of odd ones, but the one I actually made into a book idea was about a dystopian family with a father who is a part of a cult who kidnaps children and chemically manipulate the brains so they appear different then they really are. Or feed them to a giant, invisible man to keep them from killing the entire cult. 
51. Describe the aesthetic of your story in 5 sentences or words.
My stories are dark with a sarcastic overtone. 
52. How did writing change you?
Writing has made me more sensible to myself. Like, I understand me more. 
53. What does writing mean to you?
Writing is a way of living and of communication. 
54. Any writing advice you want to share?
To just do it. You don’t have to do it now or for the next twenty years. Having a colorful language and huge imagination is what makes you one, not how many words you have written. 
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jjyusmile · 4 years
Text
don’t unlock the fear, it’s poisonous (1) | kim mingyu
chapter 1: i wish i could open the time where only we can exist- if i could, if only i could
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mingyu blocks the universe out after his own world was taken from him, but there might be a light at the end of the tunnel.
word count: 1,223
note: oh myyyy i have loved writing this series! this is my first series so please give it some love! it is partially inspired by the tv series Abyss, which I highly recommend watching!!
masterlist
don’t unlock the fear, it’s poisonous: preface / 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5
_________
he sat there, staring out over his neighbourhood, trying to block out all the hatred that littered the world around him. the sun could just be seen over the tower block that towered just higher than his rooftop. it’s fascinating how small slither could coat an entire city - glimmering with gold flecks. if someone was beside mingyu at this moment, they’d notice how the once pooling dark brown now shimmered with fragments of the sun, dancing around in this innocent boy’s eyes.
it had been a long time since mingyu had anybody beside him. the rare occasion that human contact impended, he barely looked them in the eyes. he would go days without eating to avoid it. the convenience store worker, who knew mingyu growing up, barely saw him for more than a minute.
mingyu would walk into the store, appearance drowned in a worn greyish cap and oversized sweatshirt, with his head down. once he picked his regular cup of chapagetti, he’d place it on the counter with the usual 3,000 won in notes.
sometimes he would pick up an additional tray of kimbap – those days would be to celebrate the fact that he had actually gotten out of bed. an additional note would be placed alongside to roll. spicy tuna kimbap, like his mum used to make.
sitting up here, he could hear the low buzz of the traffic heading into itaewon. it was nights like this that mingyu could tell what day it really was. these people were heading into the liveliest part of town to celebrating clocking off work for the next 48 hours.
he vaguely remembered what that was like. the ‘quiet until friday afternoon’ coworker would drop a single post-it note on his desk with a shy smile as she walked away and back to her seat. we’re heading out to the cray tonight, want to join? --- he didn’t miss the smeared x after the question, signalling instantaneous regret after she jotted the kiss. but they would dance the night away – who knew a bunch of accountant office folk could waterfall soju bombs like they were m&ms.
the gold flecks that twinkled across the city slowly began to dwindle. the smile of remembrance disappeared in an instant as the buzz of the city faded into his own, lonesome breathing. he took a slow glug of the beer he held in his right hand. he almost forgot the taste of it until his friend placed a six-pack of beer outside of his apartment door during the day. he vaguely heard the ring of the bell while mid slumber ~ a usual pastime for mingyu.
once he knew the knocker was gone, he slowly stepped out into his front porch. the pack was accompanied by a handwritten note -
hey, gyu. just stopped by to say hello. i thought you could use a pick me up – I’m sorry to hear about your mum, man. she was a gem. kwan.
a gruesome laugh bubbled in his throat as he tore off the note and scrunched it in his hand. the tight, sharp pain of crescents being dug into his hands didn’t go unnoticed – but it was a familiar feeling now. shoving his door open, stepping out into the hallway of his apartment and seeing the orangey tones to the sky had urged mingyu to take the small step ladder from his shanty, “penthouse” apartment onto the roof.
as he took another sip of the luke-warm beer he thought back to seungkwan’s note. he wasn’t worthy of this pack, but he drank it anyway. aiding in the death of your own mother barely grants you breath, let alone a six pack of tepid beer. in the back of his mind, he knew that wasn’t true. he knew it was the gods that took her, because it was her time. but that didn’t stop mingyu from blaming himself. that didn’t stop mingyu from shoving everyone away, granting himself a life of solitary in his studio apartment with cracked walls and barely there mini fridge.
his feet dangled over the apartment building, specks of cracked concrete fell to the floor as he kicked at the torn roofing. they didn’t fall far; but he would. the five-story apartment building wasn’t tall, but it was tall enough to cause pain. these intrusive thoughts met mingyu regularly- as he crossed a street of zooming cars; as he took a pill for a migraine; as he dangled here, inches away from a new life.
but he knew... he knew.
I know, he huffed. standing back up slowly, putting a distance between himself and the edge of the building. I know, mum.
you will have a good life, my darling. you just need to believe in yourself.
his mother’s parting words – they still hit like a ton of bricks, months after hearing them. he could still hear her sickly-sweet tone coaxing goodness out of him, even in his darkest time. even here, his thoughts almost getting the better of him, he did it for her.
kicking the scattered stones away from his path back to the ladder, he took in his surroundings for a moment more. breathing in deeply, as though it was his last breath, he stepped down the ladder and into his dimly lit apartment once more.
with half a pack of beer tucked away safely in his functioning but barely fridge, he collapsed onto his fold-away bed, careful not to land the wrong way and injure himself. the buzz of the energy-saving light bulb brought a calm wave over him. with his mother’s locket in hand, the white noise sent mingyu into a peaceful sleep.
it was the blinding light that woke mingyu, his fingers stretched in search of his blanket to cover his eyes with the desire to lull back to sleep. instead, his fingers sunk into soaked sand, small particles making their way under his finger nails. shocked by his, he shot up with his legs hunched to his chest and arms tensed with one fist balled and the other palm open ready to block.
he was on the beach, the small blueish hut a few hundred meters away told him it was wangsan beach - wangsan beach café was written in cursive, navy paint on the side of the building.
it took him moments to notice to hovering figure a few feet beside him. their body coated in white cloth, and long auburn hair flowing over their shoulders. he stared in awe as the figure reached out their arm, presenting a blinding, oval shaped crystal in the palm of their hand.
his eyes slowly trailed from the crystal up the figure's body, detecting a slight glimmer as he went up – was this a ghost? the shining aura around the figure told him otherwise… an angel?
the familiar locket covering the figures chest made mingyu’s heart sink. he didn’t need to look any further up. he didn’t need to see the way his brow furrowed as she watched him come to his senses. he didn’t need to see the small freckle on her right cheek that matches his. he didn’t need to see the shining brown eyes that smiled brighter than her lips.
he finally met her eyes and breathed in the freshest air he’s felt in a long time.
mum.
---------
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thesokovianaccords · 7 years
Text
a few steggy headcanons
steggyweek2k17 - day four (modern day)
because we can never have too much modern steve and peggy
Peggy buys herself a locket and places two pictures of Steve inside--one of him when he was skinny, and one of him asleep in their bed--as a reminder that he has always been her reason to come home, from the very beginning.
Steve and Peggy love FaceTime. They use it all the time, even when they’re only a couple offices apart.
They still write each other letters, though. Sometimes it’s a short note stuck to the jug of milk that says “i love you,” sometimes it’s a multi-page missive to be savored during a long mission. As much as they love the convenience of accessibility of phone calls and text messages and video chats, it’s easiest to see the love and care in every handwritten word.
Steve much prefers coffee, but he and Peggy share a pot of tea every night before they go to bed. It’s his favorite part of the day.
Having lived through every single one of the years Steve was in the ice, Peggy takes it upon herself to fill in the gaps of his pop culture education. Her favorite lesson thus far was when she introduced Steve to the Beastie Boys. The look on his face had been priceless.
After her youth is restored to her, Peggy asks to be reinstated and to have access to some of her favorite spy tools over the years. Unfortunately, she has a bad habit of tossing her Sweet Dreams lipstick into her regular makeup bag.
After one particularly harrowing mission, Steve and Peggy go AWOL for twenty-four hours and find themselves in a small chapel in the south of France. The ceremony is short and simple, intimate and perfect.
Their friends don’t speak to them for a week when they find out they eloped, but they have no regrets (besides, they still get to throw a huge reception, so everyone wins).
They name their oldest daughter Sofia. It's definitely not because she was conceived there.
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cait-writes-stuff · 7 years
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A Hanukkah to Remember - Dick Grayson x Reader
If there was anything you loved more than Dick Grayson, it was his gusto when it came to celebrating your culture. Ever since you started dating, he’s always been eager in supporting you in every way possible. He made a point to learn about and celebrate all of the Jewish holidays with you. He had a particular fondness for Hanukkah because it meant he could give you multiple heartfelt presents and this year he wasn’t holding anything back.
Each night of Hanukkah the two of you lit the menorah and did all of the traditions. It warmed your heart that he cared so much. What warmed your heart even more was the heart achingly thoughtful gifts he got you for each night. Another person wouldn’t think twice at them but each gift meant the world to you. Each night Dick gifted to you little mementos of your relationship with him, a pen from the fancy restaurant he took you out on your first date for before ditching the place for a taco truck, a collection of little love notes from you that he kept all these years, a photo album full of pictures that you never realized he had taken, all culminating in seven nights of truly perfect gifts.
On New Year's Eve after you had lit the candles and eaten a couple of latkes you were both hurriedly getting ready to leave for Bruce’s New Year’s party. Somehow you were the one who was ready first.
“Come on Dick! We’re already late!” You called out to him.
“I’m ready, I’m ready.” He reassured turning the corner as he readjusted the cuffs on his tux. One look at you and he stopped dead in his tracks. “Wow [Y/N]. You look stunning.” He breathed.
“Thank you but can you admire in the car? Damian’s texting me asking where we are.” You encouraged. “I didn’t even know that kid had a phone.” You mumbled under your breath.
“Oh wait! I forgot to give you my gift!” Dick said turning on his heel and running into the other room in search for whatever he wanted to give you.
“Dick! It’s alright! It can wait!” You called.
“It will only take a second [Y/N].” He said, already reappearing in front of you. “Turn around.” He commanded. You gave him an exasperated look but did as instructed. Dick pushed your hair to the side and hooked a gold chain around your neck. You fingers trailed up to your collarbone and ran across the locket that now rested against your chest.
“Dick I-” You started to object. This looked expensive and he really shouldn’t have but before you could voice your complaints he pressed a tender kiss at the exposed skin of your neck.
“Before my grandparents got married, my grandfather gave this to my  grandmother who passed it down to my father who gifted it to my mother. My mother gave this to me a few months before she died and told me to keep it safe and give it to the woman I will marry. I hope, one day, we might pass it down to our children.”
“I-I’m honored Dick. It means the world to me that you want to give this to me but are you sure?” You asked, your doubt nagging at the back of your mind. This step seemed so important to him that you wanted him to be sure he was confident in giving it to you.
“I’m more than sure.” He said confidently. Tears of happiness pricked at your eyes but you carefully dabbed them away before they could ruin your makeup.
“You just keep outdoing yourself this year, Dick.” You say running your hand along his token of love.
“Yes but I still have one more night darling.”  Dick said with a wink. Before you could question the meaning behind his words he started to guide you out the door and to the car. “We really should be going. Wouldn’t want to be more late than we already are.” He continued hurriedly.
You tried to put Dick’s mysterious words from your mind for the rest of the night. The two of you genuinely enjoyed the party as you drank champagne and danced the night away. When the clock hit midnight the party cheered and Dick pulled you into a passionate kiss. What you didn’t see was Dick slip his hand into his tuxedo pocket and brush his fingers against the velvet of the box in his pocket.
“Happy New Year.” You whispered against Dick’s lips when he pulled away. Dick lips turned upward slightly and he pressed a quick peck to your lips.
“[Y/N], I want to give you your last Hanukkah gift now.” He said with a hopeful glimmer shining in his eyes and a shy smile that you couldn’t ever say no to.
“Is it another kiss?” You asked cheekily.
“Not quite.” He said. “Though I imagine it would hopefully be a part of it.” Dick said with a nervous smile. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and carefully placed a small velvet box adorned with blue and white ribbons on top. Your eyes widened as your mind raced at the possibilities of what it could be. Could it? No it couldn’t be.
“Alright.” You laugh nervously. “What’s this?”
“Open it.” He prompted gently. You nodded and slowly lifted the lid of the box. A part of you hoped that this was what you thought it was but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. The man just gave you his mother’s cherished necklace. He wouldn’t propose you on the same night would he?
Tears sprang to your eyes when you opened the box to find and engagement ring nestled in the velvet. Attached to the inside lid of the box was a small handwritten note. It read:
וועט איר חתונה מיר
You gasped at the question and looked to Dick to find that he had moved to get down in on one knee in front of you. When your eyes met he carefully took your hand and stared deep into your soul.
“What do you say [Y/N]? Will you make me the luckiest idiot in the world and do me the honor of marrying me?” He asked. You broke out into a beaming grin and threw your arms around him. The force of your embrace knocked him backwards and you both fell to the floor in a fit of laughter as you lay on his chest.
“Yes!” You giggled taking his face in your hands and crashing your lips to his. The crowd erupted in celebratory cheers at the scene of the two of you, one stoic father figure looking particularly proud. Tonight would mark the end of a memorable Hanukkah and the start of the first amazing year of the rest of your life with Dick at your side.
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