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sincerelyreidburke · 5 years ago

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Taddy drabble!!!!!

Okay, remember this post from yesterday about how @hockeysometimes and I accidentally created 3 OC tadpoles for the frogs’ senior year? I accidentally ficced. And it got sort of long.

May I present, tadpole number one: Sebastián “Nando” Hernandez!!!! This started because I said, you know what, there should be a baby gay tadpole when Nursey and Dex are seniors and then they love and cherish him like their adopted child. Thus Nando was born. As promised, I’ll make a post telling you more about Nando and his fellow two tadpoles soon. For now, have this sickeningly soft random fluff, in which Nando comes across some gay shit going down at Annie’s between his captain and said captain’s assistant-captain-slash-best-friend.

Nando loves his classes.

He picked his schedule last spring, at the Samwell admitted students day, and, like, okay, he was a little nervous about it, because how are you supposed to pick classes for a major that determines your job for the rest of your life when you haven’t even graduated high school yet?— But. He did a good job. Because his freshman fall semester schedule is the shit.

Tuesdays are the best, and today is Tuesday, so his spirits are high. He gets out of Soc 101 at 10:30, and he has an entire, like, six hours before he even needs to start thinking about hockey practice. Hockey practice is one of the best parts of any day, by the way, because he gets to see his friends.

He can’t believe it. It’s the middle of October, and he still can’t believe it. Walking across Samwell’s main quad after class, he takes it all in. He’s really here. He’s really in college. He’s almost two thousand miles away from home, and he misses Mama and his sisters a whole boatload, but he’s here. He’s in college, and he’s studying sociology, and he’s playing D1 hockey, and he’s not sure he’s ever been happier.

He’s in such a good mood today, actually, that he thinks it necessitates Annie’s. He’s only been at Samwell for two months, but already he’s perfected his order. They make a mocha frappe with cinnamon that’s honestly the drink of the gods.

Okay, he reasons with himself. Annie’s it is. And then homework. Later. But first, Annie’s. He deserves this.

He’s going to gain his freshman fifteen solely because of Annie’s.

And then Dex will kick his ass. Nando isn’t scared of his captain, exactly; he’s been in enough settings with him to know that Dex is a really nice guy, and he’s been instrumental in welcoming Nando to Samwell. But he’s also seen him on the ice, fiercely debating linesmen on bad calls and getting in scuffles and doling out checks to the members of opposing teams with particularly hateful chirps. He’s a great leader. Nando just isn’t so sure he’d want to get on his bad side.

He just. He really wants to impress the seniors, okay? They’re, like, the coolest guys ever.

Nando reaches into his pocket for his phone, but there are no new messages. He checks his thread with his boyfriend, but Nate left him on read at 9:21 this morning and hasn’t gotten back to him yet— which he never used to do, really, not before Nando left for Samwell. He’s trying not to read into it too much. Nate is busy, after all. He’s at U of Arizona, much closer to home, doing big things. He doesn’t have as much time to text, and that’s okay.

Or— at least that’s what he’s been telling himself.

It’s okay. He tucks his phone away. Nate will get back to him eventually. Even though the gaps between his replies have been getting larger… and larger… and larger.

He knew coming to college with a long-distance boyfriend would be hard, but. Jeez.

His team doesn’t know about Nate. Not really. He would be lying if he said that his decision to come play for Samwell wasn’t influenced at least a little by Eric Bittle and the 2016-17 team, being in the news so much for the first openly gay NCAA captaincy. He was reading the stories before he even got his acceptance letter. He’s not sure he’s ever felt more inspired by another hockey player.

And besides, this is Samwell. It’s one of the queerest colleges in the country, on top of the hockey team’s reputation for acceptance. So really, he shouldn’t be afraid to tell his new teammates he’s gay.

It’s just. Hockey is hockey. And Eric Bittle graduated.

He has some surviving memories from, well, an entire childhood of being a queer, Latino hockey player, and it wasn’t a fun time.

He’ll get there. Eventually.

And besides, he tells himself, he isn’t worrying about that today. Today he’s going to Annie’s, and getting a frappe. The sun shines on his face, and the trees are turning every color.

It’s a good day.

Nursey loves his boyfriend.

For a number of reasons, but especially right now. He’s about three sweet-talking sentences away from getting Dex to share a bite of his French toast. They’re tucked into the corner booth at Annie’s— their booth, really; they’ve staked a claim to it every time they come here ever since they got back to campus for senior fall. It’s tiny, and barely spacious enough for two 6’2 hockey players to squeeze themselves into, but Nursey sits across from him and their knees press together under the table, and all is right in the world.

“Look, babe,” Nursey says, spreading his hands out on the table. “All I’m saying is, that little crust right there with the powdered sugar—” He points to the bite of toast in question on Dex’s plate. “I’ve got my eye on it.”

Dex rolls his eyes at him. There’s a smile on his freckly face, and in the warm light of the dining room, he’s every autumn color imaginable, fiery red hair to plaid, maroon button-down to amber eyes like pools of sunlight. For the past three years, Nursey spent his entire friendship with Dex trying to train himself not to stare, to rid himself of the wants for a boy he never thought he could have. This summer, that changed. Now he can have him, does have him— so he can look. Why not look?

Dex is a fucking catch.

He’s pointing with his fork toward Nursey’s own plate. All that remains of what once was there are a few whole-grain breadcrumbs. “I don’t know if you’d noticed,” Dex says, “but you had your own food.”

“Will,” Nursey groans. “I’m still hungry. I just want to taste it.”

Dex cuts into his last stack of toasts, and Nursey glues his eyes to them. Annie’s does French toast right— brioche bread with just the right amount of egg wash, pan-fried and then dusted with powdered sugar and drizzled with syrup. Nursey is pretty sure his mouth is watering.

And Dex is right. He did have his own food. But—

“It’s not my fault,” Dex continues, between bites of toast, “that you insist on getting hipster toast every time we come in here.”

Nursey puts a hand on his heart, like he’s been shot. “Dexy, avocado toast is part of my aesthetic.”

“Jesus Christ.” Dex sighs. “Why am I dating you?”

Nursey grins, rubbing his foot against Dex’s sneaker under the table. “Because you love me.”

Dex rests his cheek in one hand, and Nursey is suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to lean across the table and kiss each of his freckles, one by one. He watches Dex pass judgement over him, eyes lingering on him bemusedly, mouth curving up to the dimple on the left side of his face. For a few seconds, he’s quiet, and Nursey doesn’t break eye contact. He’s in love with that look in Dex’s eyes.

Then, finally, Dex stabs the crust Nursey has been eyeing with his fork, holds it across the table, and announces, “I hate you.”

“I know.” Nursey beams. Through the power of his charm, he’s getting exactly what he wanted. He knew it’d come to this, all along.

Dex feeds him the little nugged of powdered, syrupy crust, and it tastes just as overly sweet as the gesture is, and Nursey has never loved anything more. “Mmmm,” he groans as he swallows. “That shit is delightful. Thanks, baby.”

“You’re a sweet-talker,” Dex mutters, still grinning, as he returns to his plate to finish it off.

“But you fall for it,” Nursey points out. “Every time. So who’s whipped in this arrangement?”

“Both of us,” Dex replies. His cheeks are flushed pink, but his smile remains.

“I tend to agree,” Nursey says, then reaches for his free hand and takes it in his own. He pulls it across the table, then plants a kiss on each knuckle, plus one, two, three of his favorite freckles. Dex’s hand, like the rest of him, is covered in them. Nursey has written enough poems about them to fill a book.

In fact, he maybe feels one coming on right now. He tucks the idea into storage in his brain for later, when he’ll inevitably wind up scribbling all over a notebook in a pile of leaves outside the Haus for two hours before practice.

God, he fucking loves this place.

He presses Dex’s palm to his own face; Dex’s fingers curl into the touch and caress his cheek. “Ah, my Will,” he hums. “Where would I be without my stolen bites of your French toast.”

Dex points his fork at him menacingly. “Don’t even think about it,” he says. “That was your ration for the day. This is my breakfast.”

“Hey!” Nursey beams, still holding his hand to his stubbly cheek. There are callouses all over Dex’s fingers. Before this, before Dex, he didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with a pair of hands. “Did I say anything about asking for another piece?”

“No.” Dex mops up the last of his syrup with the very last piece of his toast. His eyes twinkle like the sunrise as he looks up at Nursey. “But I know you were thinking it.”

Nursey kisses the inside of his palm. “Rude.”

Dex laughs into his hand, smiling from ear to giant ear, and Nursey really fucking loves his boyfriend.

Annie’s is crowded.

It always is. Or at least that’s what Nando has inferred from his two months on campus. The line stretches almost, but not quite, to the door. He weighs the merits of long line versus mocha frappe— is it worth it?— but then watches two girls go by him holding their drinks, each with tall stacks of whipped cream atop them, and he decides, yeah. Definitely worth it.

So he waits in line. He should have texted Rhodey to ask if he wanted to come with him, but then again, Rhodey is still probably asleep. He’s pretty sure his roommate-slash-teammate is nocturnal.

The coffee shop is buzzing with students, a sea of maroon Samwell merchandise, groups of friends clustered around tables or piled into booths.

Nando grins at the scene. It’s such a postcard of college. Some are hunched over homework; others scroll through their phones or laptops, and still others are just talking, laughing, enjoying each other’s company. There are art kids, and jocks, and fierce academic types, and— oh, wait— is that Nursey?

Nando squints. Yes, it is! There’s no mistaking that green hat. It sits atop his teammate’s familiar head of undercut curls; Nursey is in the back booth, and he’s— oh! He’s sitting across from Dex.

Nando almost waves at his teammates, but a.) they’re not looking at him, and b.)... something he’s never seen before, he realizes, is happening.

Because the thing is, they’re not looking at him, but they’re not looking at anything else, either. In fact, their eyes are all each other’s, as they sit mere feet apart across the small booth. Dex is resting his cheek in one hand, looking across the table at him, and Nursey is beaming at him, eyes crinkled and face soft, like— like—

— like he’s looking at the love of his life.

Nando widens his eyes. All of a sudden, he feels like he’s seeing something he isn’t supposed to be seeing. Nursey says something to Dex, who rolls his eyes but smiles at the same time. He proceeds to fork something off of his plate and hand the fork across the table to Nursey, who eats the bite of whatever Dex is offering clean off without hesitation.

Nando blinks.

This looks gay.

Really gay.

His theories are confirmed when, a few seconds later, Nursey picks up Dex’s hand and kisses it several times. Nando looks away, lest he catch one of their eyes, but then again, it’s not like either of them seem to be planning to look anywhere but at each other anytime soon. His awkward aversion of his gaze only lasts a second, because when he sneaks a glance back at them, he has to marvel at how soft Dex looks— his cheeks are freckled and pink, and he looks so at ease with Nursey, like he has no other care in the world. It’s an extension of the dynamic Nando has already observed between them— they’re best friends, and he knows this. He just had no idea that they were more than best friends.

Nando pauses in line. Logically, he knew that Nursey was queer. He’s open about it, proud of it, and he gave Nando and the other tadpoles the no homophobic bullshit, this is Samwell, have your teammates’ backs speech on day one of preseason. It was a breath of fresh air for Nando, and he’s sort of been looking up to him ever since.

But Dex?

At the table, Dex has his hand pressed to Nursey’s face, like it’s a prized possession. Nando has never seen that soft smile on his captain before.

“Hey.” Someone nudges him, very lightly, in the backpack from behind. “Dude, you can move up.”

“Oh.” Nando snaps out of it— the line has moved on without him, and he’s left a gaping, empty space in the middle of it. “Sorry,” he says to the person behind him, and then steps forward.

He can still see Nursey and Dex from his new spot in line.

His stomach turns. He misses Nate, watching them together.

His phone still has no new messages, just Read 9:21 AM.

But here are Nursey and Dex, in plain sight at Annie’s, canoodling— there is no better word for it— with each other, being a couple, despite all the odds, all the stereotypes, everything everyone thinks hockey players are supposed to be. Here are his captains, the team leaders, seniors, sharing something that even in this brief glance Nando knows is precious beyond words.

He wonders, for a split second, if he should say something, the next time he sees them. Tell him he looks up to them. That he’s grateful to feel so safe here.

But watching them with their breakfast, he decides against it. He’s seeing this before they’ve chosen to reveal it to him, and that should happen on their own terms.

Nursey throws his head back in a laugh. Dex grins like he’s just won the Stanley Cup.

No, Nando won’t say anything. This is something too precious to intrude on.

For now, he smiles, and he waits in line for his frappe.

#omgcp #omgcheckplease #omgcp fic #poindextears writes #nurseydex #dexnursey #william poindexter #derek nurse #nandoooooooo #nobody touch me i'm still crying over captain dex #oc taddies

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marmolady · 5 years ago

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The New Taylor: Part 1

READ PART 2 HERE

Book/Series: Endless Summer

Main Pairings: Estela x MC

Summary: (Endless Ending). Saving the world takes a lot out of a person. For Taylor, growing into her new self beyond La Huerta can only happen as fast as her exhausted body will allow her....

Word Count: 5541

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @greengroove

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The light of the rising sun filtered through the thin curtains of Estela’s childhood bedroom, gently rousing Taylor from her slumber. She grumbled softly, nuzzling deeper into the pillow, and snuggling into her wife’s chest and belly. Somehow, she could just never get enough sleep. It was as if her body’s batteries were still relearning the art of recharging, some three?-- four now, weeks after Vaanu’s energy departed her. In exchange for looking forward to a lifetime of waking up in Estela’s arms, a little tiredness was a small price to pay.Some days, though, it felt like an insurmountable hurdle.

Full lips brushed Taylor’s cheek and jaw, whispers of kisses. How could she not smile? Her eyes opened to that beautiful, scarred face. “Mm… morning, babe.”

Estela beamed. It was hard not to when she had her arms around a miracle. Back home with her tio, the promise of a happy future was tangible, a hope that she could just about believe in.

“Good morning, hermosa.” She nibbled the lobe of Taylor’s ear. “Did you sleep better?”

Taylor yawned noisily, and took her time stretching out her body, enjoying the press of her back against her lover.

“Better, yeah.”

Nightmares had been an ongoing problem for Taylor for about as long as she could remember. Every now and then she’d have stretches where she couldn’t even seem to close her eyes without being bombarded. Images of her friends’ deaths… dying in a thousand different ways. The worst, though, the worst by far, was a memory of her own; Estela’s eyes going dull as she took a last, rattling breath, Taylor cradling her in blood-soaked arms. It haunted her in sleep; the feel of blood on her hands so horrifyingly real, usually waking her with a violent shiver up her spine.

“Mmmm…” she turned to press a kiss to Estela’s lips. “I’ll take every good night of sleep I can get. You sleep okay?”

Estela’s face was soft with affection. Her own nights’ sleep had been badly impacted by the traumatic period of Taylor’s recovery from Vaanu’s leaving her. After seeing the love of her life stop breathing again and again… letting go of the fear wasn’t something that came easy, and it made for restless nights.

“I think I made it the whole night. We might just be through the worst of it. I guess you’re not gonna die on me in the middle of the night after all.”

“Like I keep saying; you are stuck with me, Estela Montoya. No way you’re shaking me now.”

With a happy squirm, Estela squeezed Taylor from behind. “Nope-- you’re all mine.” She placed a big smooch on her wife’s rosy cheek. “Come on; I can smell breakfast cooking!”

________________________

Several weeks in, San Trobida remained a brand new world for Taylor. It was to some relief when it quickly became apparent that she didn’t especially stand out and draw attention. She slowly got to grips with her place in a world beyond La Huerta, and no one seemed to pay her much notice. Estela had told her, with a laugh, that San Trobidans were not an especially chatty people, and that this shouldn’t come as a surprise. One might expect a polite smile of greeting, but the general population were about as likely to strike up small talk as Estela was-- which was to say, not very.

Initially, Estela had been stuck to Taylor as if by glue, letting her presence be a safety net as her wife grappled with her identity in what was an often overwhelming environment. And it hadn’t just been for Taylor’s benefit. Reunited with her uncle in a post-war San Trobida, her beloved partner by her side, it seemed inevitable to Estela that the other shoe had to drop at some point. Life wasn’t this easy. It just wasn’t. Every other time she’d believed that the struggle was over, she’d been hit with another wallop to the gut. Trusting in ‘happily ever after’ wasn’t something she could turn on like a switch.

But everything hadn’t gone crashing down in flames. Nicolas had welcomed Taylor-- and Jake, for that matter-- enthusiastically into the family. Even for the short years she’d been away, Estela found a San Trobida flourishing without the choke-hold of oppression that she’d always expected to be there. Jake had hit the ground running, having already interviewed for positions with two local airlines to charter tourists-- the thought of tourists coming to San Trobida was staggering in itself. Estela had offered her services to do odd jobs for old acquaintances; something she’d done many years before, when her mother had still been around to prevent her from getting involved in the war. The vast majority of her uncle’s friends had been connected to the rebellion in some way or another, and standoffish as most were, they welcomed her earnest insistence on being useful. Everything around her spoke of recovery, and Estela found herself beginning to believe that she and Taylor were on their way too.

Taylor often accompanied her wife on these errands, taking every opportunity to soak up the essence of San Trobidan life, to make it a part of herself. She was met predominantly with wary looks and grunts, and soon worked out that it wasn’t worth taking such reactions to heart. Today, though, she was striking out on her own. If she was going to come into her own as a ‘new Taylor’, the fully-realised human being that even Vaanu themselves could not have imagined of her, she had to give herself a chance to grow.

“You have the bus timetables on your phone, right?” Estela asked, taking a moment to give her wife’s fingers a squeeze. “It’s still probably best if you don’t go into the city on your own, but you pretty much know your way to the closer towns anyway. And you can call me…”

“...at any time.” Taylor returned the squeeze. “Always.”

Estela blushed. “Yeah… that. Just, be careful. If you’re feeling tired, call. I can drop everything in a moment, but I need you to be safe.”

Whether Taylor’s batteries ever properly recharged these days, was something debatable. Even the simplest activities would knock the stuffing out of her. Walks along the beach were kept short. Afternoon naps were now something of a fact of life. Sex was slow and gentle. It was damn near driving Taylor crazy, and all she could do was tell herself that it would get better, that her lack of energy was a tiny price for the miracle of her continued presence on earth.

She took Estela’s face in her hands and kissed her sweetly. “I’ll be careful, okay? I know my limits.”

The bus ride up into the hills east of Estela’s home was a scenic one, and a trip that Taylor had now taken a couple of times during her solo explorations, as well as once, of course, with Estela. Passing agricultural plantations-- cassava, banana and sugar cane, she’d been told-- the surrounding vegetation became denser as the road carried on to the next town. Taylor hopped off at the next stop; if she was feeling up to it, there wouldn’t be too much of a trek back down the hill to the bay off which the Montoya house stood. With that in mind, she kept her ambling around town to a slow pace, and coffee in hand, soon took to the walking trails through the surrounding forest.

Almost certainly as a result of feeling so at home in the wilderness of La Huerta, it was in nature that Taylor felt she was at her best-- it had always been on hikes through the jungle or along the coast that she could really get lost in thought and ponder the big questions. Now, though, her body just couldn’t seem to keep up with her mental needs. When she sat down upon the forest floor for a breather-- surely after not even a quarter of an hour of walking-- her legs were like jelly.

Goddammit.

Frustrated, Taylor distracted herself by taking a picture of an odd flower. She’d been collecting snaps of just about anything in nature she came across that stood out as different to what she was used to on La Huerta. If Estela or Nicolas couldn’t identify it, she’d hit their old handbook of San Trobidan botany. It was a small hobby to keep her occupied; at least she could keep on learning even if she was usually too tired to do a lot physically. She’d also taken up knitting-- though she had a way to go before she’d really got the hang of it. Besides poring over books and keeping up a barrage of questions about life here, there was not a whole lot else for her to do. She’d had a couple of driving lessons, but like everything else, they had to be kept short. She’d usually go along with Estela when she was running errands, but if she wasn’t painfully aware of how weak and vulnerable she presently was, getting a good view of her wife’s vigour and strength did nothing to make her feel any better. Of course, there wasn’t a hint of judgement-- but Taylor was so often left feeling useless and unattractive. Estela had fallen for an energetic woman who had taken life by the horns, and right now, it felt like that woman didn’t exist.

She took her time to recover; sending a couple of pictures to Diego who’d been getting an almost blow-by-blow account of her new life in San Trobida, and doing a few easy stretches. Estela was convinced that working on core strength was the best way forward for Taylor’s rehabilitation; once her body was stronger, then they’d work on cardio and stamina.

Limbered up, Taylor walked back to the bus stop. Dearly as she’d wanted to make the trek home, something that just a couple of months ago would have been a piece of cake, she was not fool enough to think it might happen today. Getting off the bus a couple of stops before home was the compromise she’d have to live with for the time being. She plugged in her earphones and watched the world go by-- listening to a soundtrack she’d inherited as a mish-mash of her friends’ tastes. When she hopped off the bus, that beat kept her putting one foot in front of the other, a steady rhythm. From the footpath by the road up the hill, she could already see an easy route home; the sparkling sea providing a beautiful backdrop that she’d never have fully appreciated through a window. She could feel her body flagging with every step, but it was worth it.

You got this, Taylor. All downhill from here.

As Taylor turned the last corner toward home, her legs shaking, a small figure skittered out across the road and towards the beach. A small sickly-looking dog. Strays were not uncommon near the towns and beaches; Estela had said there used to be many more around the place, that with the war over there was more scope for focus on animal welfare. The fact that this one looked like a strong gust of wind could finish it off spurred her.

Well, I guess I can make a slight detour.

She hastily tucked away her earphones and crossed the street, whistling. Most of the dogs that showed up were seasoned beggars with no qualms about approaching humans. Chances were, this little one would come running. Huffing and puffing her way slowly to the beachside village, she found the dog trundling along the behind the now-closed bar. On a longer look, Taylor noticed that its forelegs were oddly bent, facing in opposite directions as it loped, and the scruffiness that had caught her eye was down to great patches of hair loss that accentuated a thin frame.

Poor little fella…. She gave a low whistle and crouched. “Hey, l’il guy… uh, girl actually. Hey, l’il girl. You must be hungry….”

The dog looked around, eyes wary, as Taylor wobbled precariously. It gave a small but gruff bark, and moved further away. Taylor huffed; if the animal didn’t clearly need a vet, she’d have left it be. After her walk down from the bus stop, her head was spinning and she wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Maybe… maybe she should just come back for the tiny dog later. Then, as Taylor made to get up, she stumbled and fell.

Fuck.

Suddenly, it seemed pretty clear that the mangy little dog was not the one in most immediate physical peril. Taylor gave a weak yell and kicked out the dirt. To her alarm, her vision blurred horribly, and she went from ‘a little bit weak’ to ‘I could faint right here’ dizzy in frightening speed.

Okay, head between your legs. Deep breaths… deep….

The world swam. Taylor could just about make out the dog barking in the distance… then all went black.

_____________________

Taylor woke slowly, her head aching. The room around her seemed to spin, and it took several long moments before she recognised it as Estela’s bedroom. Propped up at the head of the bed, she’d clearly been brought home by someone after…. Crap, what happened?

“There is water for you on the bedside table,” came the sharp voice of Nicolas Montoya.

“W-what happened? I fainted? I think I… fainted.”

“Thankfully you were found by someone who recognised you as a guest of mine. Now, sit up slowly and take small sips of water. Estelita will be home soon-- I would much prefer she is not coming home to her idiot wife looking like death warmed up.”

Her lips dry, Taylor swallowed, still trying to catch her brain up with whatever had just happened. She’d been chasing after a stray dog, and then…. God, Estela was gonna freak. She mumbled a ‘thank you’ for the water, for the apparent rescue, and tried to hold off from shuddering at the bitter disappointment in her uncle-in-law’s voice. He was pissed. A strong part of Taylor was indignant; she wasn’t a fool, but this was new.

“Drink.”

There was no arguing with that tone. Taylor took a sip, then another. She tried to think. She’d been out walking and… her body had just given out on her. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t known she was exhausted, but….

“It happened so fast. I was on my way home, and I was tired, and then I just… crashed. Where’s Estela--? Does she know I’m okay--?”

“I didn’t take you for a dumbass--”

Anger flared in Taylor’s gut. That was not fair. “Hey-- I passed out. I’m not stupid, I just--”

“No? You are ill, wandering around defenseless… by your own choice, no? Knowing that your wife would drop everything to get you home when you are clearly incapacitated. I give you some credit; I assume you know this is not the safest corner of the world? It seems like you are a maldito idiota to me!”

Taylor could feel her whole body trembling uncontrollably. “You can try, but you’re not gonna make me feel any worse than I already do. I made a bad call, and I’m paying for it. I don’t expect you to trust me; but I learned a fucking hard lesson today.”

Nicolas turned away, seething.

“If I thought it was a risk, I wouldn’t have done it. I would never put Estela through that kind of worry. Not again.”

“Well, we are fortunate indeed it wasn’t she who found you collapsed in the dirt.” Nicolas’ eyes flashed as he looked back over his shoulder at Taylor. “Do you have any idea--”

A creaking signaled the front door swinging open. There was a pounding of frantic footsteps on hardwood floor and then….

“Taylor!”

Estela rushed in, falling to her knees beside the bed where Taylor was propped up.

“’Stel…” Taylor’s eyes welled as both relief and shame washed over her all at once. I’m so sorry.

“¡Dios! Me asustaste hasta la muerte! What were you thinking? It’s okay, just… just let me look at you….”

The tone of panic and the tears rolling down Estela’s cheeks made Taylor’s heart sink down to her toes. This was the last thing she’d wanted.

Nicolas scowled. “Well, she’s in safe hands now. Estelita, I will be in the office if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Tio.” Estela did not turn as her uncle walked away; she had eyes only for Taylor. Tentatively, she climbed up onto the bed, settling down gently beside her wife.

“I really thought I had more stamina than tha--”

“Shh.” Estela put a finger to Taylor’s lips. “Let me check you over.”

Too exhausted to struggle, Taylor leaned back against the head of the bed, letting Estela inspect her for any signs of physical distress. She remained quiet, feeling the tension that hung between them, tension that shouldn’t be there.

Finally, Estela sighed, her dark eyes forlorn. “Looks like no harm done. You got lucky. But you can’t just push your luck like that. I can’t believe you’d just--”

“It was an honest mistake. Part of being human, or at least that’s what I’m told.”

“It was a stupid mistake!”

It was as though an icy bucket of water had been dropped on Taylor’s head. Estela wasn’t just hurt, she was… angry?

“Hey! I have been lectured enough by your uncle, and I am not gonna take it from you. I know you’re scared, but this is new to me. I’m still working out my limits.”

Estela winced, immediately looking ashamed for snapping. She curled up her knees to her chest and stared straight ahead. For a long while, she sat that way, unmoving.

Taylor watched her wife with concern. Where was she? Reliving the long nights in the Elyys’tel medical centre, a hair’s breadth from losing her partner forever? Or was she even further away; remembering the shattering impact of loss and fearing it touching again?

“Taylor,” Estela said hoarsely, “I can’t… I won’t lose you.”

“No. You won’t.”

“So, don’t do that to me again.That was irresponsible and dumb, and that… that wasn’t fair.”

Hurt, Taylor tried hard not to pout. She wasn’t doing this on purpose; surely Estela knew that?

“We both know that you can’t look me in the eye and tell me that you’ve never overestimated what you were capable of. I made a mistake, okay?”

Estela’s nostrils flared. It was difficult to argue with that. Sometime in the future, when he’d cooled off, her tio would no doubt laugh at the thought of her having a taste of all the worry she put him through. “Look, it might seem peaceful here, but beneath the surface, things are still broken. This is not a place that’s forgiving of stupid mistakes. If anything happened to you now, I-- I think it would kill me.”

“I know, ‘Stel. And I was being careful. I thought I was being careful enough…”

As she looked into Taylor’s face, Estela’s expression gradually softened. This sucked. It really sucked. But that wasn’t down to Taylor. She was scared too. Gently, Estela reached out a hand and stroked her wife’s cheek. “You’re safe now. That’s what matters.”

Pressing a tender kiss to Estela’s wrist, Taylor felt herself relax. They were okay. Both kind of freaked out, but they were freaked out together.

“It’s like I don’t know my own body anymore. I feel absolutely useless; I can’t even trust myself, not after what just happened. It’s… kinda shit. ”

Estela huffed knowingly, and stroked Taylor’s hair. “It’s a lot shit. I’m sorry for taking it out on you. The last thing you need is to be stressing out ‘cause I’m being an asshole.”

“You? Never. You’ve had to be scared for so long; you’d have to be a robot if you kept it together all the time.”

“Hmm. Well, if I’ve gotta let off steam, that’s what a punching bag is for. I don’t wanna hurt you. Not ever.” Estela stroked her calloused fingers through Taylor’s hair. It helped to calm the both of them.“Did Tio really chew you out? If he thinks he can lecture you--”

Taylor laughed dryly. “Nothing I can’t handle. It… kinda sucks that he thinks I’m a complete idiot, but I’ll work on that.”

The hurt, though, could not be hidden.

“Carińa, you have nothing to prove. When Tio gets protective he can be… well, pretty damn unpleasant.” Estela sighed softly. “When I found out Mom was dead, it… it’s hard to explain how bad it was. I was unreachable. And obviously it took a long, long time for me to even be close to the person I was before. I think when he found you like that, he must have had a moment when he thought it was happening again. It doesn’t excuse him being an ass to you, but you should know it’s not your fault. You’re not what’s wrong here. Jesus, you’re the opposite of what’s wrong. Okay?”

Taylor found her wife’s hand and squeezed. “I know.” For a little while, she was quiet, just taking comfort in Estela… her being there, her touch. That love was a privilege. “Your tio just… absolutely loves you to pieces. Like you’re his everything. For him to feel as though he’d lost you; it must have been something like torture.”

Her eyes closed, Estela breathed deeply against Taylor’s head, soothed by the scent of her hair. She’d let go of the guilt, but profound sadness lingered. The years since her mother’s death had been little but immeasurable pain for Nicolas, making even the triumphant rebellion hollow.

“I could never thank him enough. No matter what, he supported me, he had my back. Even when I was stuck on a mission that would take away the last person he loved.” She found herself enveloped in a hug, Taylor gently bringing her to her chest and cradling her head there. “I love him. More than I can say. More than I think I’ll ever work out how to show him. But I think… he knows. We’ve been through too much for him not to. I know I fought it; I didn’t wanna risk you even if it meant the world… but he gets to heal now. With me.” Estela looked up, pink dusting her cheeks as she looked into Taylor’s shimmering blue eyes. “You did that. And there’s nothing that anyone could ever give to compare to that. You’re my hero.”

Taylor found herself sniffing, faced with shining sincerity. She didn’t feel like a hero, but for as long as Estela needed her to be that person, she’d try to live up to it. “You’re mine.”

“So, mi querida, it’s gonna be okay.” Estela pulled herself up, so that Taylor could lean on her in turn. “How are you feeling?”

“Actually, not so bad. Like, I desperately needed rest, but at least I seem to be able to bounce back pretty well.”

Estela sighed thoughtfully. The ordeal had been a fright, but it looked like no harm had been done. “You should tell Michelle what happened. She’ll want to know.”

It was hard for Taylor not to groan at the thought of causing even more worry, but she nodded her agreement. Ever since Vaanu left her, she’d been nothing but a burden.

“Actually, what did happen? Tio said you were passed out on the beach-- I thought you were going up into the hills.”

“I did. And I was all pumped up to trek back down from the town--,” Catching a horrified look, Taylor couldn’t help but chuckle. “--cool your jets; you know I’m not that stubborn. I realised pretty quickly that my ambitions were way too high. So, I got off the bus a little ways before our stop, and I walked it. I did it. I mean, it knocked the stuffing out of me, but I did it.”

“...And then, something possessed you to take a stroll along the beach?”

Taylor felt her cheeks flush. Okay, this was the part where I get a little foolish. “There was this little stray dog. Tiny thing, and it looked so sickly. Apparently, the bleeding heart in me jumped out, and then I was on a mission. I think the thought of actually helping someone, and not just being this weak, lost little person just… just sparked something in me. Pretty sure the adrenaline just from that got me to the beach, because when I stopped moving, the fatigue hit me like a train.”

A little smile came to Estela’s face, and it made Taylor blush all the more.

“I know, I know, apparently I’ve got myself a hero complex. Maybe a little bit stupid, but my heart’s in the right place?”

Estela just laughed and held her wife even tighter. “How am I meant to argue with that? One pig-headed crusader to another; it’s not the worst thing you can be. I love you, Taylor.”

Taylor closed her eyes, breathing in the familiarity, the comfort, that came of having Estela so near. Her whole world, her everything. All that she had to give in return was so… small. Helpless and small.

“Hey…,” Estela said gently. “It is going to be okay. I know you’re all right physically, but… you’re sad.”

“I thought I was getting better. I don’t want to be a damsel in distress for the rest of my life. It’s not as if I even know who I am now, but that ain’t it.”

Estela tenderly kissed Taylor’s brow, her own furrowed with concern. “You are getting better. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but from where you came from, this now is amazing. You’re stronger even than just last week. However long it takes, I’ll be there with you. You know, ready to give you a fireman-carry to safety.”

“I guess there’s gotta be some perks to being a damsel in distress. I can’t deny it; that would be kinda hot.”

“Kinda?”

“A lot. A lot hot. I’m sorry, have you seen your arms?”

To Taylor’s relief, the atmosphere had shifted; Estela waggled her eyebrows and giggled, eliciting a weak but grateful smile.

“You’ll be back to kicking ass in no time. If it helps, we can focus more on your physical training-- at least once you’ve recovered from this little, uh, episode. But, um, that little dog you found….”

“If we can find it, I really want to help. Maybe there’s the selfish aspect of me wanting to feel capable of being at least a little bit helpful to someone, but I want to get it fixed up. It-- I think it was a girl-- looked pretty bad.”

“I always wanted to bring home strays when I was little; Tio Nicolas thought he had enough responsibility with a kid around the place, so that was never gonna happen. I’m sure he won’t mind another guest, now. Or at least, he wouldn’t say no. Do you want to get a dog, mi amor?”

“It hadn’t actually crossed my mind what we’d do with her once we brought her home and got her healthy, but… yeah. I think I’d like to have a dog.” Despite all her worries, all her fears, all her shame, Taylor couldn’t stop the small smile that lit her features. If she could somehow claw her way back to a semblance of her old self, what lay ahead looked amazing. “Look at us, ‘Stel; already growing our family.”

A giddy grin plastered across Estela’s face served to sweep Taylor back up into her own insecurities; those voiced and those yet hidden. This was supposed to be their happy ending; after everything her lover had been through, it was all Taylor wanted to make it happen. But now… was she even enough?

This might be as good as it gets. Can you really expect her to be there to catch you when you just can’t stop falling?

Estela stood up and stretched, but gave Taylor a look when she made to follow suit.“We’re not going anywhere until you’re properly rested. I’ll make you some lunch. But then, we’ll see if we can help out your little friend. What do you think?”

Taylor frowned.

What do I think?

I think… I’m scared I’m going to hold you back, when you’re capable of so much.

I’m scared your uncle’s only ever gonna see me as another burden for you to carry.

I’m scared you’re gonna wake up one day and realise I’m not the same person you fell in love with.

She swallowed hard. There was so much love in Estela’s dark eyes, and it was shining there just for her.

I won’t stop fighting to be what you deserve. We’re so close to happy ever after, and I won’t let you down now.

“I think I’ll be up to that. We’ve got saving the world under our belt; rescuing a stray dog is gonna be a cakewalk. Let’s do this.”

#endless summer #playchoices #estela x mc #estela montoya

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purplesurveys · 6 years ago

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418

Girly Do you like the color pink? It’s my favorite color. My phone case, wallet, purse, expander, water jug, two notebooks, backpack, pencilcase, clipboard, and paper clips are all pink. What have you spent more money on: a purse or a pair of shoes? Definitely shoes. I have one purse but I didn’t even spend on it, as it was a gift from my tita who was coming over to the Philippines. Do you ever wear heels? I have pairs of heels but people in the PH are so conservative and judgy that you can’t really dress up without them looking at you. As much as I want to wear my heels to places, I can only do so when I go to parties or other special occasions. What are the most stylish but uncomfortable shoes you own? I dunno, I find all of them pretty comfortable. Do you have any shoes you mostly only wear for photo shoots? No...I never have any photoshoots.

What's your all-time favorite lipstick (brand and color)? I don’t do makeup. Do you buy drugstore make-up or high-end make-up? What dog breed do you think you look the most like? Hahahahahahaha what omg

Do you like light blue jeans or dark blue jeans better? Light blue. I think they’re more trendy at the moment. What are your favorite type of pants to wear? I like my high-waisted ripped jeans! They’re super casual and can match any top. I wear it if I just want a chill day. What's the last good love story you read? I haven’t read those in a hot minute. Who is/was the most romantic of your friends? Jo I think, but I’m pretty sure it would be JM if he finally finds someone. Have you ever had a magical kiss? Always. Do you like kissing or hugs better? Hugs!!! Retro Do you own any records? No. I don’t have a turntable to play them on. Do you own a pair of bell-bottoms? Also no. I was never a fan. Have you ever tie-dyed anything? We had to tie-dye a shirt for a project in like sixth grade, but I’ve never done it just because I felt like it. What's one oldies song you like? We Didn’t Start the Fire. Do you think Disco is a cute name for a boy? Not at all. Poor kid. Do you own a lava lamp or disco ball? I own neither, but I wanted my own lava lamp really bad when I was like 14. Did you own a disco light when you were younger? I don’t think I did. Have you ever put a dime in a jukebox? Haven’t. The few times I ate at Johnny Rockets they had a jukebox, but I didn’t go near it because I was shy. When was the last time you went to the roller rink? We don’t have any here. Do you wear hoop earrings ever? I have a pair of clip-on hoop earrings I wear at least once a week. Do you own a kaleidoscope? No. I probably did when I was younger. Have you ever done hard drugs? No. Tumblr What are three of your favorite Starbucks drinks? Java chip frappe, caramel macchiato (iced or warm is fine), and peppermint mocha are my go-tos. Do you have photos on the wall in your room? Yeah but they’re nothing like the Tumblr aesthetic you’re probably asking for. I have frames of Audrey Hepburn on one wall and a poster of a Korean actor that I love, but that’s about it. If you own/owned a Polaroid camera, which color would/do you have? I’ve never had one but my sister just bought her own Instax the other week that I plan to borrow. It’s brown if I remember correctly. Have you ever done a craft with a record? if so, what? No. I don’t think I’d want to put my hands on a record like that either. What's one of the best Tumblr-inspired craft projects you've seen? Meh. I haven’t seen the crafty side of Tumblr since 2010. Do you have a Tumblr account? I wonder. Which do you like better: Tumblr or Pinterest? Tumblr for surveys and memes, Pinterest for ideas. Do you have a mandala tapestry hanging in your home? No...that screams 2014 to me. Do you own any succulents? I never got into plants. Fake succulents or real succulents? Do you doodle on your notebook paper? When I get bored in class, yes. Do you own Sharpies? Mmmm no, I don’t really need them for anything. What's your favorite Sharpie color? What color are your Converse shoes? White. I used to have a pair of red high-top Chucks as tribute to AJ, but I think my mom threw them out already because I stopped wearing them. Have you ever made an inspiration board for your room? No. Who is the best-looking male celebrity? Gregory Peck. Boho Where would you like to travel to next? Thailand or Vietnam, hopefully! List three more vacations you would like to go on. I want to go back to Singapore, then go to those two I mentioned above. Where are three places you go to relax? My room, the beach, a cafe. Are you a musician, artist, or writer? None of these, but writer speaks to me the most. Do you believe in truth, freedom, and love? ...Sure. What is your favorite store at the mall? I don’t have one I normally go to. Would you hitchhike if people were generally trustworthy? If I had the time, yep. What's the most daring thing you've ever done? Every time I overtake or be an ass on the road (because everyone else is) always feels daring lmao. Would you ever belly dance at a faire? No. If you became famous, would you change your name to something exotic? Idk, that’s kinda racist/appropriating. What are five exotic names that you like? What exactly are exotic names???? Do you own a dreamcatcher? Yeah, I have a large one above my bed. Do you feel closer to God in nature? No. Fashion What are five things that were in style when you were in high school? Roshes, ripped jeans, crop tops, statement shirts lmao, and hoodies. What does your favorite scarf that you've made look like? I don’t need scarves and more so have I not made my own. Do you wear scarves? No. It’s too hot for scarves. List the different colors of jeggings and/or skinny jeans that you have. White, black, dark blue, light blue, khaki. What color is your favorite pair of shorts? Black. What color is your favorite sweater? The XXL one Gabie gave me to use whenever I miss her is gray. List five people whom you think have great style. Audrey Hepburn, one of the profs in my college that has an impeccable wardrobe, Kate, Sophia, and tbh my aunts.

List five of some of the worst trends you've seen. I don’t feel like it. List five items on your current wardrobe wish list. More heels, high-waisted shorts, a new jumpsuit, a party dress for the year-end college party in May, and tube tops. Where do you shop the most for clothes? H&M. Do you own anything leopard print? No. Never. Do you wear earmuffs? I don’t need them. What color are your favorite pair of boots? I don’t really wear boots. Music What song makes you cry? Recently, it’s Louis Tomlinson’s singles- at least the ones dedicated to his mom. What could be the theme song to your life? That’s a pretty bold claim...but uhhh probably Misguided Ghosts by Paramore. What is a good break-up song? Walking in the Wind, One Direction. What song makes you want to dance? Any high-energy Beyonce song tbh. What is one of your all-time favorite songs? From Eden, Hozier. What is your current favorite song? Three straight surveys that this was asked. Talk, by Khalid. Which show has a great theme song? I don’t watch a lot of shows, so I wouldn’t know. Which song is so catchy it's easy to get stuck in your head? Depends on my mood and what my head prefers to play at the moment. Which song is used in a lot of youtube videos? Royalty-free ones? Idk. Which song is sad? The entire soundtrack of New Moon lmao. Who makes great song covers on YouTube? I don’t like covers. Who is one of the best songwriters? HOZIER Who has a beautiful voice? Also Hozier. Who made it big fast? Idk, it’s pretty easy to make it big fast nowadays thanks to social media. Arts and Crafts List five DIY youtubers you love to watch. I hate DIY YouTube. Who makes the best craft videos? Have you ever painted rocks and hid them in your town? No. Even if I had the time to, the idea doesn’t sound exciting. What craft project is harder than it looks? All of them, I would guess. Have you ever got hot glue stuck to your hands? Nooooo no no, that’s one of my biggest fears. Are you messy when it comes to painting? I’m messy in and out of painting. What color is your cutting board? Would you rather build something or decorate something? I’d rather buy something that’s already built and decorated. Just really not an artsy person so this category is not for me haha. Have you ever painted something on canvas? Never. I couldn’t, even if I tried. List a few of your favorite painters. Monet. Do you love the brand Natural Life? I don’t think I recognize the name. Do you love the brand Lisa Frank? Yessssss my girl Lisa used to be the bomb dot com. Oil pastels or chalk pastels? Which do you prefer, and why? Oil...they look nicer for me? And I’ve never heard of chalk pastels until now. Glitter gel pens or regular gel pens? Glitter. Colored pencil or regular pencil? Colored pencils, because I love coloring books. Charcoal or colored chalk? Chalk. Charcoal is messy. Painting or drawing? I hate both. Painting that shows brushstrokes or painting that looks like a photograph? I’d rather see the brushstrokes. Knitting or crocheting? I hate them both too. Sewing on a machine or doing embroidery by hand? Color or black-and-white? Color. Digital photography or film photography? Classic film.

#survey #surveys

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windydrawallday · 8 months ago

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This is a nice way to poke around peeps, batty buddy! Thanks for leaving this open to grab (I hope what I'm doing in replying like this is fine)

Alright, let's unpack:

Currently, I'm working on 6 sequential artworks for my usual rarepair because I have a month without doing something for them and since the past year I have this thing dated to be posted on 11/11 (tomorrow).

Tho, a few hours ago I finished setting up a cardboard box to be my new photoshoot lightbox... tho I will need to delay the testing of it because I discovered my trusty lightbulb lamp broke u_u

This was quite a sunny weekend! Today the sun was so strong it helped to dry clothes and of course, the glue and painting I applied to the cardboard box I mentioned before x) So, it was a productive weekend with what I can manage in my current creative energy.

You already know what project and why I'm excited about it coff ISAID-

I doubt you want to know how many WIPs I put off for years. LMAOOO, there are too many to count, but if I need to pick one, it's making a Meet the Artist sort of presentation (I have the sketch, but I haven't inked it… since February orz).

My color scheme to go is usually the Magenta/Cyan/Yellow combo, LOL, but I like to pick other colors from this palette!

Show finished recently: Batman Animated Season 01! It is one of my oldest visual inspos, with the clear sharp grimdark + art deco mix that characterizes the cast and mature themes it shows. Show started recently: Scooby Doo Mystery Inc; I'm taking so many screenshots because the backgrounds with those grunge textures and abandoned feel is hella rad!

Comfort characters: I've been with the same rascals you know for three years right now. Four? LOL It's difficult for me to get attached this hard and for a long time to fictional characters. Though I can't call him a comfort character, I enjoyed the Penguin on Batman Animated! There was an EP where they let him show such an awkward and gentlemanly side that I just WANTED TO SQUISH HIM.

Books read: AFTER THREE YEARS I FINISHED KING'S DANSE MACABREEEEE. I saved lots and lots of QUOTES I will be citing and using in my work for decades to come MUHAHAHA coff I want to start reading NEXT YEAR Frankenstein: I left it half there idk why so, I will need to start over. It's for the better.

Someone that inspires me… Y O U The end

Re-reading/Rewatching: in my bookcase, I always have The Little Prince and Lovecraft Anthologies (quite the contrast, eh?). Now if we go very personal-intimate: Neverending Story will always be absolutely groundbreaking to me, it really deserves its in-book title of "the book of all books". In the movie department, I'll never get tired of Scooby Doo's animated movies between 1990-2000s, the animation and storytelling were top! In a memory stick, I have tho Treasure Planet and Atlantis: Los Empire for similar reasons.

About the rewatch/re-reading effects mmm I think it affects me but to certain games: movies and series are unilateral in interaction, with games the interaction depends on you and I admit even if I like a game with all my might… there's always a level or part of the story I loathe to do again orz

Collecting wise: I never was into it until robot hell tackled me and it made me brave to spend and be more versed in buying this or that figures and toys was quite an experience. Out of that… I print official artworks and plaster them in collages around my journal, that counts? xDU I don't live in a place where merch is easy to get. And yes I draw fanart so technically I printed my own merch too skdfhskjdhf

Laughing is a rare thing from me daily I'll refrain from replying because *explodes*

I personally see my art better as stickers and postcards in format… I never designed art for t-shirts and such… or even tattoos idk, I feel a tad uncomfortable in general to take my art in such bold ways? Something rare because I worked before doing logotypes and such mmmm

I'm stupidly multifacetic x'D From drawing traditionally and digitally with inks, watercolors, and acrylics to then sculpting with clay, and cold porcelain to then designing maquettes for packaging (I'm learning to use the cutting plotter) without counting baby steps knowledge on game coding… I would LOVE to sew my own plush toys but %D I don't have that level of patience… same with SCULPTING IN 3D??? Idk, that's witchcraft to me!

… Too many hobbies you can guess from what I said before this point HAHAHA Aside from character design and goofy worldbuilding mmm Board game design? Big dream of mine.

Something new I learned: using the cutting machine!!! Was like going back to my Illustrator era roots sdkfjhsdjf On a personal level… I turned back to my witchy side and created my first magic servitor, my first spell on the 31 of October and I'm excited to try more things during rituals!

I think I have enough of this year? Even if at times I feel like it won me over… it wasn't so bad. But I need to take action in setting more habits I left aside like walking more frequently and respecting my sleep schedule (I slipped bad so many times in the year, I think that's why I'm feeling so sleepy lately).

That's all I think! I hope you find it educative entertaining haha

Thanks once more for the opportunity x)

To bring a bit more social into social media…

Tell me what you’re working on!!

How’s you’re weekend going?

Do you have any projects or plans you’re excited for?

What’s one thing you feel like you need to work on but keep putting it off? (could be a wip or practice with drawing backgrounds, house hold chores ect.)

Do you have a color / color scheme you are obsessing over right now?

Have you watched any shows/movies you really fell in love with?

What is your favorite comfort character right now??

Have you read any good books lately? What cute characters in there made you laugh or smile?

Who is someone that inspires you?

What is a show / movie / book that is so precious to you that you keep reading it over and over again?

Can you reread / rewatch a beloved thing over and over or does that bug you?

Do you like to collect merch from favorite shows, or are your favorites so obscure you have to make your own??

What’s one thing you’ve seen online recently that has made you laugh?

Do you enjoy making your work / pieces into wearable art? (making merch ect.)

Do you like to do artistic things? ( Draw, write, music, sewing, jewelry, scultping, crafts)

What hobbies do you have?

Have you learned anything new this year?

If you could learn one new thing this year what would it be?

#windy replies #know me better

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chimchiminiekookie · 7 years ago

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To All the Boys I've Loved Before | 1

Summary: Whenever you have a crush so intense, you write him a love letter, you pour your heart and soul onto that letter as if he'd never ever read it. Because he never does. You've never sent out the letters you've written, every handwritten word filled to the brim with you deepest desires and feeling for the person. They're your most sacred possessions... except the letters are out.

Pariring: Jungkook x reader

Word count: 7,008

Author's note: I'll update the summary and note and word count, I just need a little time, I'm deadass tired. My eyes are literally closing as I type. Alright! So i really love the book series and the movie just pushed me further to get this written. I'm just on an inspiratio binge right now. Lol. Hope you guys love it!

_______________________

When you were younger, you had a habit of collecting. Most people liked collecting rocks, or stamps, and in your little sister’s case, they collected strangely shaped crunchy leaves during the fall season. You weren’t like most people though. You liked to collect memories, and sketches of faces of people who inspired you, you collected strange cookie cutter shapes like one in the shape of a nose. It wasn’t until you were 9 when you decided to start saving the important things instead of collecting a lot of different types of a single object. Now, most people saved whales, the environment (yes to zero waste!), and even people, but that wasn’t you. You liked to save small bells, small glass objects like rabbits or hats, ribbons, and most importantly, love letters.

When you were 8, your mom gave you a teal hatbox, not too small, but not that big either, just the perfect size to put love letters in. Not love letters written to you though, you don’t have anything quite like that, you’ve never received one, but you have wrote them. Whenever you have a crush so intense, you write them as a farewell to your feelings, all your hopes, dreams, and desires for that person is fueled into that love letter, you write them as if the ones the letters are addressed to will never read them, because they never will, you never send them out and you never will. Once you finish the letter, it’s as if the feelings are gone, you’re able to go about your day not wondering what they were doing or who they were with, whether they liked to dip fries into ketchup or squirt ketchup all over them.

Every boy you’ve ever seriously liked in the past has one - there are a total of five boys. Chani from Camp Wakanaka, Kookie from middle school, Park Jimin from Model UN, Hoseok from Freshman Homecoming, and -

“Hey there Poppy, where’s Y/N?” your head pops up in the direction of your closed door.

You rush downstairs, just in time to see your big sister Irene and Namjoon holding hands while walking towards the kitchen. Kim Namjoon is your next door neighbor, but he spends almost every waking moment over at your house. Everyone in this house loves him, your dad who is a gynecologist has been surrounded by girls his whole life, which is why your dad loves him like a long lost son, your youngest sister Poppy, who everyone calls Pop loves him, especially when they play uno, and Namjoon lets her win all she wants without ever getting bored like Irene and I. For your older sister Irene? Well she loves him because everyone at home loves him, especially for that reason.

Everyone sits around the dinner table, as Namjoon passes your spot to get to his directly across from you, he ruffles your hair like a big brother would do to a little sister and gives you a fist bump, your dad who’s made another Korean Delicacy is already trying to saw through the charcoaled ribs. You and your sisters call your dad’s Korean food delicacies because they were just that. You’d never be able to find food quite like that, even in Korea, although you also wouldn’t be able to digest it correctly either.

Irene, ever the competent one, silently stands up to collect the tray and brings it to the kitchen where she fires up the electric knife.

Pop groans, “Ugh, I can’t believe we won’t see her until Thanksgiving.” she pouts.

��Which is why you should do the dishes tonight instead of Rere.” Rere is what you called Irene, pronounced like the singer, “So she doesn’t have to stay up tonight and she can finish all her packing and be ready early tomorrow morning for her flight.”

Pop rolls her eyes at you, “I said I couldn’t believe it, not that I want her to be on time tomorrow.” she takes a sip of her water, “And besides, the only reason I said that was because she’s not gonna be around anymore to give me rides to school, so now I’m stuck with you.”

Of course, in this household, your dad and Irene were the ones everyone counted on to drive. Last year, you and Pop would always catch a rude to school with Irene, but now that she’ll be leaving, you have been given the responsibility to drive Pop to school, and you were a terrible driver.

“Well, you guys could always get a ride with me.” Namjoon offers, “Besides, I’m not going anywhere.” He offers you a wink and you can’t help but smile.

“What I miss?” Irene comes strolling in, tray of cut up pork ribs in her hands and saying that she looks like the perfect stay at home mom would be an understatement, but that isn’t Irene.

Poppy giggles deviously, “We were just talking about how much of a bad driver Y/N is.”

“But we were also talking about your flight and how you won’t be coming home for Thanksgiving this year, so…” He holds up his index finger in anticipation as he dug around his pocket for a folded up piece of paper, handing it over to Irene, “I thought I’d bring a little piece of home to you.” his face and smile is bright, waiting for Irene to run over and hug him, but that never happens.

You look over at Irene who stopped putting pork ribs on your plate, “You already booked the ticket?” her face is dowbcast, her eyebrows knit together and her mouth a thin line, Irene was not happy.

Namjoon’s smile dissipates in realization, “ W-well yeah. I’ve had my google alerts set on for flights to Scotland ever since you decided you’d go to university there.”

The room is tense, so tense, that not even your dad is smiling, just looking between Irene and Namjoon because he’d never know who to side with on this one, and then just when you’re about to excuse yourself to your room to give the two their privacy, Poppy speaks up, “Mmmm, just like how mom used to make.” she gives a fake smile and scrunches her nose slightly, not even trying to make us believe that she’s telling the truth.

You sat at your desk which was propped against the window, and while you had your glue gun in your hand to continue on your scrapbook for Irene, you look past the window right at Irene and Namjoon as they bickered intensely, Irene was mad that Namjoon caught her blandished and embarrassed her in front of the family, while Namjoon was mad because Irene didn’t even seem the least bit happy about his surprise for her. Then that was it. You decide to close your curtain because this was none of your business, it felt intimate, something Irene’s little sisters shouldn’t be seeing, so instead, you go downstairs to bake some snickerdoodles for Irene to bring onto the plane tomorrow.

Whale rolling the dough into small balls in the palm of your hand, Irene comes in, silently closing the door behind her no Namjoon in sight. She sits at the island and starts typing on her already opened laptop. You two continue like that, you silently baking, and her silently typing.

“I broke up with Namjoon.”

The cookie dough ball falls right off your palm as your eyes widen and your mouth is agape, “What?! Wait, what? How? Why? When? Seriously?”

Her voice is straight, steady, not even a quiver of sadness, “It was time.” she shrugs, “Mommy always told me never to go to college with a boyfriend.”

She looked fine, not even a trace of a single tear, no, because that wasn’t Irene. Irene was always fine, she never cried and she always remained calm, and even when she wasn’t fine, she was.

You grab the ball of dough that fell in the sugar bowl earlier, “Well, I don’t see the point, Rere.”

She stops typing on her laptop to look at you, “The point is, Y/N. I’m going to a university thousands of miles away, keeping a relationship with him just isn’t practical. 95% of long distance relationships don’t last, I was just saving him future heartbreak.”

Ah, yes. This was a hundred percent Irene, always thinking with her head and never her heart, “Won’t work out? You can’t be serious, this is Namjoon we’re talking about, there is not a single guy out there who has ever loved a girl as much as he’s loved you.”

She rolls her eyes at that, but it was true, Namjoon loved Irene like no boy has ever loved a girl, in his eyes, there was only Irene, nobody else.

She shuts her laptop, already looking like she’s going to lecture me, “Mommy always said not to have a boyfriend in entering college because she never wants us to be the type of girls who cried to their boyfriends on the phone and say no to things and experiences instead of yes.”

She really thinks Namjoon will hold her back? Looking at Irene now, Was Scotland the first yes? To throw away a two year relationship because she was afraid that saying no to Scotland would be one of her biggest regrets? Were we also sacrifices she had to make for her dreams?

You walk over to sit next to Irene, “It’s just my two cents, but I don’t think Namjoon would ever hold you back. I remember when you ran for student body president and even though Namjoon wanted to run, he supported you throughout and was even here at god knows what time just to make your posters. He’s always supported you, Rere.” You look over at the clock, “If you hurry, it’s still not too late to go over there and take back what you said. I’m a hundred percent sure Namjoon would gladly get back together with you.”

Irene shakes her head, “It’s been done, Y/N. I’ve already decided.” If there’s one thing I know about Irene, it’s that when she makes her mind up about something, that’s it. She never changes her mind.

When you’ve finished up in the kitchen and Irene’s gone to bed, you climb up to your room, you grab your teal hatbox and set it on your desk, you look over at Namjoon’s house, his light was still on. You take the top off of the teal hatbox, the letters were neatly on top of each other from oldest going up, your latest love letter on the top most of the small stack all of them neatly tied together with a silver fabric ribbon that goes beautifully with your teal hatbox, you found it at a yard sale tied to a teddy bear that you gave to Poppy.

In your neat cursive handwriting is ‘Kim Namjoon’ along with his address and zip code below, this Kim Namjoon is the same one next door who was still up trying to make sense of what just happened, he is Irene’s Namjoon, but before that, he was your Namjoon. You smile sadly at the letter just before putting it back in the hatbox and putting the hatbox away on your topmost shelf in your closet. Absolutely nobody knew about your letters, they were your most private and sacred possessions.

___________

“Y/N, hurry up! I have to be at the airport three hours before my flight!” Irene’s obviously already prepared, without a beat.

Meanwhile, you’ve been debating on whether you should wear sunglasses or not for at least 10 minutes, you decide to bring them anyway, and just not wear them if you decide against it.

“Three hours? Honey, I think it’s supposed to be two. What are you gonna do there for three hours?” Your dad loads Irene’s suitcases in the trunk.

You look over at Namjoon’s house, just as Irene gets in, you see him sitting on his car’s opened hood, that pained expression on his face, his eyes red and swollen, he’d been crying over your sister. When you were growing up, Irene always had a Philosophy, if something no longer useful, you either donate it, recycle it, or throw it away. Looking at Namjoon now, you always knew that’s how Irene felt about objects… but you knew thought that she’d feel that way about a person.

At the airport, Irene’s giving her last goodbye hugs, strictly no tears, because Irene hates emotional goodbyes.

She pouts cutely at Poppy, “C’mere kid.” she opens her arms to Pop who’s already in her arms.

She looks over to you, the one standing the farthest away, and opens her arms silently, you want to be mad at Irene, to pick a University thousands of miles away, to leave you all behind, but you don’t think you could handle becoming the no that your mother warned her about, so you walk into her arms, as she gives you an extra tight squeeze.

“Gonna be okay?” she mumbles into your shoulder.

You break apart first, sticking your hands in your pockets, “Did you really have to pick the farthest college you could think of?”

She places her hand on your cheek, slowly caressing it, “You know I’m just a skype call away if you guys need me, Y/N.”

You stare down at your boots, “Yeah, maybe, until you start going to pubs and hanging out with Scottish University students and eating- ugh, Haggis and then you’ve already forgotten about us.”

She give you a tiny smile, a very Irene smile, “Y/N, I can promise you on my grave that I would never ever eat Haggis.” she makes a disgusted face, “You’re in charge now, alright? You the biggest sister now, you need to set a good example for Poppy alright? Also, don’t forget to clean your room when you get home.”

Your dad and Poppy come back with a small stack of magazines, something you already know Irene wouldn’t read. Knowing her, she’s already packed her favorite series of books for reading on the plane. You all give Irene one lads group hug, before she’s squirming from underneath your small hugging pile.

“Alright, I gotta go.” she grins at the three of you, looking the happiest she’s been in a long while, “See you on Christmas!” she blows kisses to everyone and then all the three of you see is her back.

You put your arm around Pop’s shoulders, “Think she’ll turn around, Y/N?”

You shake your head no quietly, “Nah, that’s not Irene.” you wish you were wrong, but you weren’t. Things with Irene were always definite, no turn backs, no looking behind, and this was one of those moments.

The moment between you three was a tender one, at least until Poppy goes, “Can we have a dog now?” and your dad is in stitches laughing at the great attempt to take advantage of the situation.

For the next week, all you do is scrapbook, try to clean your room, and lay around. No sign of Namjoon at all since he and Irene broke up, and all too soon, it’s already the morning of your first day of class.

You wait outside in front of your house holding up small rectangular chalkboards with your grade number on it, you with a Grade 11 board and Poppy with a Grade 6 board. You dad holds up his phone, and he instantly notices how difficult you were being. Honestly it was because of the thought that you were going to be driving.

He puts the phone down, “Come on, Y/N. It’ll only rake a second, I’m gonna send this to Irene.”

You sigh before giving him a smile, with Poppy next to you, smiling brightly while yelling, “Cheese!”

He puts the phone down after taking a few shots, “I can’t believe it.” He shakes his head fondly, “6th grade and Junior year.”

You put the chalkboard down, “Alright, ready to go?” you turn towards Poppy.

She looks at you, and then to the keys in your hands before she jumps in realization, “Wait just one sec!” she pushes her chalkboard in your hands before rushing inside and coming back outside equally as fast except this time, she had a pink sparkly helmet on.

You dad takes the chalkboard from you hands, getting in his car, “You guys look great! Drive safe alright? I gotta get going. I love you guys!”

You hold a small hand up quietly as a good bye and you turn towards Poppy, frowning, “Very funny.”

She looks at you while adjusting the straps, “Very necessary.” she states in a matter of factly tone.

________

You walk through the hallway, passing by Namjoon’s locker right as he’s unloading his books, your eyes meet, and then he gives you a slight wave that you return while walking backwards, slamming straight into someone’s locker, shutting the metallic door.

“Ow!”

You instantly straighten yourself out, you knew that voice, “Oh my God! Tzuyu!”

She turns to you, eyes wide, already angry and she speaks through gritted teeth, “Excuse you.”

“I-I’m so sorry.” You shake your head, “I was- I wasn’t paying attention.”

She folds her arms across her chest, voice dripping with disgust, “Oh. It’s you.”

Tzuyu. This is Tzuyu, you two used to be best friends, playing together all summer, and her sleeping over at your house for weeks, sharing secrets and telling each other your crushes, but after middle school with reasons having to do with her becoming popular and your lack thereof you two were now decidedly not. Tzuyu was beautiful, most girls in high school are pretty, but Tzuyu’s level of prettiness was top notch even up against college girls, much so that when you asked Namjoon who he thought was the prettiest girl was for each grade level during your freshman year, he picked Tzuyu out of all the Freshman girls, including you.

She stares at you up and down, “Cute boots.” she gives you a smile oozing with plasticity, “Gonna go around stomping on cockroaches with those? I’ll be sure to call you if I find a cockroach in the girls bathroom later.”

Your voice is stuck in your throat, you were always prepared for Tzuyu, but not this time this time around you didn’t even expect to see her on the first day, much less have a confrontation with her. You head starts to lower when an arm finds it way draped around your shoulders.

“And they’re the bomb! Those are definitely hard to pull off, and you, Y/N are definitely pulling them off.” She looks down at Tzuyu’s stiletto clad feet, “Can’t wait to see you in P.E running in those… eye pokers, cous.”

Lalisa. Lisa, Tzuyu’s cousin, your best friend. Practically your only friend, she had a habit of disappearing and sneaking out, usually to go dancing, Lisa loved to dance, but her mom hates it when Lisa does so, saying she’d never have a solid career through dancing. You loved it when Lisa dances though, she looks like a wood nymph in your eyes whenever she dances.

Tzuyu’s eyes fire up, already pissed at seeing her cousin this early in the morning, Lisa’s hatred for Tzuyu was completely mutual, “Oh screw you, Lalisa, at least I don’t hook up with a different guy every other night.”

Ah, yes. Lisa does have that reputation. She never comments on it, but you’ve known her and been with her long enough to know that these rumors were absolutely true. But that’s part of the reason why you two get along so much, you never say anything about it because you didn’t need to, even if that’s how she is, you’ve always accepted her, and all without her needing to say anything.

A voice calls out from the students passing by, “Babe.” and then in front of you, the golden boy himself Jungkook embraces Tzuyu from behind.

Tzuyu never takes her eyes off of you, “oh, hi~” her voice is sing song, taunting that you don’t have what she does, Jeon Jungkook.

She grabs onto his arm draped across her chest that connects with the hand he has on his bicep, “How are you?”

You see the way Jungkook looks at Tzuyu, nothing but affection, but even he can’t be blind at how much of a bitch his girlfriend is.

“I’m good, how are you?” Seeing Tzuyu like this, it made you sick, not in the jealous type of way, much the sickly sweet type of way. Ugh.

He raises his eyebrows, “I’m good.” He turns his sight from Tzuyu to you and Lisa, and gives you a tiny nod.

If you think of your letters in your teal hatbox, second to the bottom of your small stack of letters is for Kookie. This is him now, Jeon Jungkook, golden boy, but back the in middle school, he was just plain old Kookie. By eighth grade, he was finally allowed to play in the soccer club at school and ever since then he’s never been called Kookie, he was either, Jungkook, Kook, J.K., or Jeon, eighth grade was also the year Tzuyu and him started going out.

“I was just asking Y/N here to be a dear and put her boots to good use and squash some stupid cockroaches.” Jungkook’s mouth falls into a thin line, unable to say anything.

You give the couple a practically murderous close mouth smile, afraid that if you open your mouth in anyway, you’d just say something you regret and you exchange a look, the look, with Lisa. She gives you the same one, yeah. She understand completely.

“I see someone we need to say hi to…” she looks over a you and rolls her eyes, “Bye.” and the she’s off.

She didn’t. But that was her way of showing you how much of an outcast you were, she was someone important who needed to say hi to people, and you were nothing. It worked. Jungkook clears his throat.

“She’s on this new no caffeine diet. I think that’s just withdrawal kicking in.” he laughs awkwardly.

You smile at Jungkook, “Are you sure she’s not just psychotic?”

Lisa snorts a laugh, “Yeah or maybe she’s possessed, you know Kook, it you want, I know an exorcist. I’ll send you the number later.” she gives him a cheeky wink.

Come lunch time, you are stuck standing in the middle of the cafeteria. You know, you know. This is a high school cliché, but it’s real. There was no place for you here. The only ones who ate in the cafeteria are the popular kids and groups of friends, and that includes Jungkook with his soccer buddies and Tzuyu’s snotty group of friends, all you had was Lisa, and even then, she’s already ditched you to grab a bite at Subway.

It takes you half of the lunch period to find a place to quietly eat your carrots, and even the you’re unsure if you could go there just because that spot was sacred. It was Namjoon’s and your spot and when Namjoon and Irene got together, it became Namjoon’s, Irene’s, and your lunch spot. You half expect Namjoon to eat somewhere else, like his Comic Club or his movie club room but he’s here with an open bag of chips next to him, and an earphone popped into one ear while he reads Paulo Coelho. You approach him slowly, easily, he looks up, he looks kind of taken aback at your hidden presence, but he puts his earphones away nonetheless.

He gives you a small sad smile, “Hey.”

You inch closer to the bleachers, “This seat taken?”

He scoots just the tiniest bit to his right, “Yeah, well, by you I mean.”

You plop down next to him, it all feels awkward and you’re about to speak up on it, when he lifts his head.

“Sorry.” He places his bookmark in his book, “I gotta ask… Did you know? Like did Ire- Did she tell you she was gonna do it?”

You notice his voice cracks just the tiniest bit at the mention of Irene’s name so he corrects himself and refers to her as ‘she’

He kicks some invisible dust on the ground, “I just- I don’t know. I figured you guys talked about everything, right? So…”

You could hear the pain in his voice. No matter how calm he remained, you could hear the quiver, the nerves he had to go through to ask just this one simple harmless little question. You shake your head, “No, she didn't tell me about this.”

He sighs, looking at the ground and shaking his head, “But, like, we’re still good right?” This makes you smile, “We can still talk, and I can still come over for dinner.”

“Of course you can Namjoon, my dad would probably ball his eyes out if he didn’t see you at least once or twice a week.” you laugh.

He looks back at you, “Heh. Yeah, I guess you’re right. I guess, I just don’t wanna lose you too.”

That’s when you smile disappears, because hearing, ‘I don’t want to lose you.’ and ‘I don’t want to lose you too’ are two largely different statements. One meant he didn’t want to lose you, he couldn’t handling losing you alone, but the other meant he couldn’t lose you and your sister, your sister especially, you were still only second to Irene.

“We’re still cool Namjoon, but I refuse to become a child of divorce from this breakup.” you giggle, opening your bag of carrots, “Want a carrot?”

He nods slowly finally putting the closed book in his hands down beside him, “Yeah, alright, Give me the carrot.” He offers you an earbud, the other already placed on his ear as the two of you munched on carrots.

This may seem like it looks strange, but it was real, it was genuine, the two of you were okay, maybe even better than okay, and whatever feelings you had for Namjoon? Well, that’s the one thing you’d never in a million years do to Irene.

__________

Poppy takes off her helmet upon getting off the car and inside the house, “Y/N, are we having scrambled eggs again for dinner?” she rolls her eyes.

You gulp, one of the things you were avoiding was grocery shopping just because you were still scared of driving, but even you had to admit that eating scrambled eggs for dinner was terrible and frankly? It was very unhealthy, “No, I’ll go get groceries, just do your homework and if anyone knocks, look who it is first before you open the door.” you put your backpack down on the sofa and grab your wallet and keys.

The trip to the grocery store is a nightmare, but you do manage to get there without a scratch, that is enough to put you at ease, enough to have you making different turns at shortcuts that would normally put you off because knew you wouldn’t be able to recognize these street signs and the only thing that would help you get home are the landmarks you pass by, like that doggy playground, when you passed by that, you were still in the middle, not too far from home, but not too close either, probably a ten minute drive, or a twenty minute walk. The moment you see the playground, you are absolutely ecstatic, you grin from ear to ear, unknowingly running a stop sign and just as fast as you got excited over the dog park, you were shell shocked at the sudden impact from a car that crashes straight into the side of your car. You stay in your car, hands and knees shaking, afraid. The other driver pulls over, gets out of his car and knocks on your window. Slowly you roll then down.

“Kid, running a stop sign is dangerous-” he begins his lecture but the moment he sees the tears already welling up in your eyes, he sighs, “Look, my car’s fine, I won’t be able to help you with your car, but if you want I can give you a ride home.”

You quickly shake your head, “No! It’s-it’s fine, I’ll just call my neighbor. Thank you though.” If Irene were here, she’d tell you to never trust strangers and never get in a car with them, but then again, jf Irene was here, you wouldn’t even need to drive in the first place. He gets back in his car and drives off as you stand next to your car, what would your dad think, what would he say? What would Irene say? Oh God, she’ll be so disappointed.

A minute passes before you decide to call Namjoon, on the second ring he answers, and you can’t help but cry.

“Hello? Y/N? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

You sniffle and try to sound as clearly as possible, “Namjoon? C-c-could you come get me? I’m here at that dog park, I just got in a car-car accident.” you try to choke back the tears.

You hear the intake of breath he makes when you mention ‘car accident’, “Shit, where are you? I’ll come get you.”

You look around, not seeing any street signs, “I-I-I’m by this dog park-”

“That’s like twenty minutes away.” he sighs, “Alright, I’m on my way I’ll have to walk though, so I can drive your car home.”

You sniffle, “Yeah, that’s fine.”

He pauses for a moment, “Want me to stay on the phone while you wait?”

You shake your head before realizing that he couldn’t see you, “No, no, no. It’s okay. I’ll manage. See you in a bit.” you hang up first, because knowing Kim Namjoon, he’d never let you wait by the roadside for him without any company.

A few minutes tick by before you decide to sit on the curb with you head bowed on your knees.

“Y/L/N? Hey. You good?”

You look up. to find Jeon Jungkook, his left elbow placed on his opened window and his right hand on the wheel.

You blink a few times at him, “Yeah, I’m good.” with a tear stained face, you know it looked far from the truth, but what would you expect Jungkook to do about it? You make a hand motion to get him to go on his way and he rolls up the tinted window of his Audi, and goes off, except he only goes forward a few feet and parks his car right in front of yours and gets out of the car, sitting on the curb with you.

“It looks pretty bad.” He takes a look at the dent on the side of the car, is the other driver okay?”

You put your head back on your knees, turning your head to look at him, “No, his car was completely fine.”

He goes back and sits next to you, and places his head on his knees as well, staring back at you, “So, how long have you been crying?”

You quickly wipe at your cheeks with the sleeves of you shirt, “I-I wasn’t crying. You don’t have to keep me company here, you know.”

He looks up, as if he were thinking of something, “Yeah, I know, but I can’t leave you here either.”

This is one of Jeon Jungkook’s charms. Everybody loves him, everybody. Even back in middle school when you, Tzuyu, Jungkook, and Jimin hung out together, he was still the best among everyone there. Of all the boys you had gone to middle school with, Jungkook was the first to grow taller, he was always optimistic, and had this boyish charm about him that he still had to this day.

His phone makes a sound and automatically he unlocks it to find numerous texts from Tzuyu, “You should get going. Tzuyu’ll get mad if you’re late.”

He stands upright, “You good here though, right? You already feel better?”

You nod your head, “Yeah. Thanks for keeping me company, that was really nice of you.”

The grin on Jungkook’s face is unmatched, Jungkook loves positive reinforcement, “See you around, Ace.” and then he’s off.

You smile at the nickname. He gave you that nickname back in the 7th grade when you were able to get all straight A’s even though Mrs. Bae’s Biology was one of the hardest classes to pass and almost everybody got a C or lower, except you.

“Hey.”

You look up and relief washes over you, “Namjoon!”

He gives you a dimpled smile, “Come on, let’s get you home.”

The ride back home is quiet, but not because it’s awkward, but because you were worrying about how you’d tell your dad. You decided that maybe, first telling him not to get mad would be the best choice and then explaining that you aren’t hurt but there’s a huge dent on the car after the accident. That’s probably the one that will make him less angry.

Namjoon chuckles from beside you, “Now that your sister’s broken up with me, you won’t even talk to me?”

You could sense half a truth in his statement, even is he laughs it off like a joke, you don’t answer, but he continues on talking, “You know, me ending up with Irene, surprised me as well.” he shakes his head thinking about it, “Especially since I had a crush on you first.”

You almost gag on air, did he just say he had a crush on me?

He laughs awkwardly, “I mean, when we first moved here, i had a pretty big crush on you, and I even let you borrow my bike, and you were putting on such a show about how you knew how to ride a bike but it turns out you didn’t even know how to use the brakes and when it fell over, you cried so much, and that was the end of my little crush on you.” he laughs, “You looked really ugly when you cried back then.” he teases you.

He pulls to a stop in your driveway, “Want me to come with you to break the news?”

You think back to that whole lecture Irene gave you about being responsible now so you suck it up, and even though you do want Namjoon there just so your dad feels extra happy to see him, you decline, “Nah, I’ll handle it.”

He holds his hands up in surrender, “Whatever you say.” He starts walking away before he looks back, “I’ll come over for dinner tomorrow so tell your dad to make something extra delicious for you guest.” he gives you a wink.

When you break the news to your dad, he isn’t even mad, just relieved that you’re alright, but he does take it to his go to repairman which is at least two to three towns over, that leaves you in charge with Poppy.

So you laze around in the couch, watching 10 Things I Hate About You with Poppy.

“I miss Namjoon.” she sighs.

You shrug, “Yeah, movies don’t feel quite the same without him around, huh?”

Poppy looks over at you, “Yeah! His Heath Ledger impressions are spot on!” she pouts, “By the way, Y/N?”

You sit up, alarmed at the sudden seriousness in Poppy’s voice, “Hm?”

She lays her head in your lap, “Don’t you find it just the ittiest bittiest pathetic that it’s Saturday night, and you’re spending it watching rom coms with your 11 year old sister?”

You brush her hair with your fingers and shrug, “Not at all. I love romcoms and more importantly, I love hanging out with you.”

She lets out a sigh and shuts her eyes, “Alright, well I’m not telling you this to embarrass you or anything, but I’m 11, and I even cancelled a sleepover, to be here tonight, but you’re already 16, and I don’t think you even had anything to do tonight.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “Uh, that is mean, Pop!”

Poppy sits up, shrugging, “The truth hurts, Y/N.”

Come end of the movie, you’ve already fallen fast asleep right after Heath’s big number for Kat.

__________

You run track with Lisa, you’d think her long legs meant that she’d be great at this but you’ve only just started and she’s already wheezing and coughing, but she catches up to you nonetheless probably also because you did slow down just for her sake.

“So… what did… you do last night?” she has to take breaths in between to keep from wheezing anymore than what she was even when she wasn’t talking.

“I watched some movies with Pop.” you shrugs, “James Gordon Levitt is hot.”

She rolls her eyes, “I told you, you should have come with me to that hooping event in the town over, I even got to become a hula hoop girl and everything!” she begins to lag behind you again, “And just so we’re clear, Heath Ledger is hottie in that movie.”

“Hey!” you look behind to find Jungkook already running towards the two of you, “Hey, can I talk to you?”

You look at him incredulously, “Me?”

He nods slowly, “Yeah.”

Lisa takes advantage of the situation so she can stop running, “Hey JK, I hear my cousin dumped you for some college hunk, is that true?”

He scoffs and looks away, ego definitely injured, “Yeah, Lisa, I hurt you have horns, is that true as well?”

Lisa laughs out loud, “Of course it is! I mean the devil’s my cousin afterall.” you can’t help but giggle at that one.

“Alright, well I need to talk to Y/N.”

Lisa has her arm over your shoulder, “Alright, go ahead, we’re listening.”

He places his hands on his hips when Lisa doesn’t move, “Alone please?”

Lisa gets the meaning behind the words slowly, but she still saves face, “Oh, yeah, just uh, if you any one of you need me, I’ll be in the nurse’s office, ogling Taeyong over there, running track shirtless.” she shoots you a wink.

You clasp your hands together, “Alright, sorry about Chris.”

He wrings his hands together, thinking of what he needs to say, “Uh, ehem. I just wanted to that that um. Look, I appreciate it, but it’s never gonna happen. I mean I think it’s pretty cool that you think I have golden specks in my eyes, but Tzuyu and I just broke up.” he even shakes his head in emphasis.

You tilt your head in confusion, genuinely confused at what he was going on about, “Excuse me?”

He claps his hands together when he remembers something else, “That also reminds me!” In a quiet voice, Jungkook clarifies “Just so you know, I really don’t have any STDs. I’m perfectly clean.”

Huh? STD’s when have you ever? You stare at him, your mouth wide open in both shock and confusion, “ I don’t remember ever saying you had an STD!”

He maintains the quietness in his voice but he definitely sounded angry, “Also, I don’t always take the last piece of pizza, at least not when I know somebody wants it.”

Everything Jungkook was saying was news to you, you two have barely talked since eighth grade, what do STDs and Pizzas have to do with anything, “Sorry, but what are you talking about?”

He looks frustrated, “That’s what you put. In your letter. You wrote that I’m this egotistical boy who gives girls STDs. Remember?”

Letter? You haven’t written one in a while, much less, one to Jeon Jungkook, “What letter? I don’t recall ever writing you any letter!” Actually, you did, but he doesn’t know that. It couldn’t be that letter because that letter is stashes safely in your teal hatbox at home.

He chuckles butterly, “Yes. You. Did. It was addressed to me, from you. If you’re gonna write me a letter like that, at least remember what you put into it.”

This isn’t happening. This isn’t reality. You must be dreaming. What Jungkook is doing in your dream? You’ll never know, but this can’t possibly be real.

He starts mumbling to himself, “Alright, you don’t remember, hold on.” he fishes around in his pockets before settling on his back pocket and pulling out a classy looking envelope made of specialty paper, your specialty envelopes for letters and whatnot and oh God, he has his letter. You feel lightheaded and before you lose consciousness, you hear Jungkook yell out before it all goes to black.

“Y/N? Y/N. Hey, are you alright? I think you fainted.” Jungkook’s already kneeling next to you, helping you up when you tell him that you were okay.

His eyebrows are furrowed, “Want me to get someone? Anyone? Maybe get you some water or anything?”

You shake your head, “No, no, I’m good. But I will take that back, you yank the letter out of his grasp, and then you get the impulse to look up at the lunch tables near the grass area, and already making his way towards you was Kim Namjoon, blue envelope in his hand and his messenger bag in the other.

Realization hits you, “Oh my God.” you number as you remember every kiss you witness between him and Irene, all the tiny smiles he gave you, you had to do something about this, and the fact that he wasn’t even stopping and has shifted his sight onto you already has you panicking, “Oh my God!”

In that moment, you do what you can. You grab Jungkook by the shoulders and push him towards the ground, kissing him, he’s in shock but he does end up kissing you back, even securing his hands on your back and waist. You pull apart from him when Coach Sand gets your attention, making you run three extra full laps.

You look at Jungkook, his eyes wide and confused, you pat him on the chest, “Thank you.” you manage to say.

He looks at your retreating figure, his letter clenched tightly in your hand, “You’re welcome!”

#Jungkook #kookie #bts #bangtan #jungkook fic #jungkook fsnfic #jimin #namjoon #taehyung #jin #jhope #yoongi #hoseok #jungkook scenario #inspired by to all the boys ive loved before #mixture of both movie and book

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thetruthisinthetooth · 8 years ago

Text

Seven days in sunny June - Chapter 3 - Shivers

So here it is. Another chapter from my WIP. You can also find it on: AO3 or FF.net

She stared at the ring in the jewelry box and then at her outstretched finger, the bastard was mocking her there naked. You see, when she got to the beach house she took it out and put it in there, she thought that she could easily lose her belongings in the sand. That had been logical, it had even felt logical,but now there she was inside the house, getting ready for dinner, there was no logical reason for her not to put that ring back on.

Laughter coming from downstairs made her look away from that stupid ring and her stupid finger. Her heart was racing, this was silly she thought as she smoothed down her sundress and swallowed shakingly. Get it together Everdeen it's not like you're going on a double date with him and Finnick and Annie. It's just dinner.

She nervously went downstairs, one small step at a time. Her heart was about to leave her ribcage, the bastard. “There you are Kitty Kat,” Finnick said while beaming his biggest smile. “Call me that again and the glue incident will happen again" she simply stated, eyes gleaming with mirth. Finnick’s eyes went wide and his hands went directly to his groin. “Don't you dare hurt my babies! Don't take Annie's toys away from her." A shout from the kitchen interrupted them “I will gladly give you the glue Kat!”

The most precious sound came from next to her, a deep laughter that made her shiver all over. “If you need me, I can tackle him for you,” he winked at her. The faintest smile appeared on her face.

“Ugh even my best friend is against me!” Finnick clenched his heart in fake outrage. “Come on, let's eat and drink my friends!” Finnick said clasping both his friends on the back and directing them to the kitchen. Peeta staring at her all the way there, her body reacting in ways that it shouldn't.

“So how long have you known Finnick?” a voice came from next to her. When exactly did he sat there on the porch looking at the ocean with her was a complete mystery. She looked at him and at that moment she was speechless, not that she ever spoke a lot. Damn those blue eyes that were piercing through her.

Say something, anything. ‘Mmmm,’ oh that's great you'll get the Nobel prize for that speech alone, say something already. After what felt like ages, her mouth caught up with her brain. ‘Since college. We met at a frat party my friend Johanna dragged me into, he tried hitting on me and made a complete fool of himself and I was charmed (that's what he says anyway).” Peeta chuckled at that, God she wanted to make him laugh every day. Ok that was wrong, wrong, wrong. “The reality was that I couldn't shake him off me, he was everywhere and I kinda got used to him being there. Also he’s one of the only people who puts up with me, so…” At that she blushed, now she was talking too much. Great. “What about you?” Good one.

He sipped his beer and half smiled as if he was remembering something. She couldn't stop staring at his neck for some reason, it looked lickable. I'm going to hell. At that thought she sipped her beer and looked ahead, the sound of the ocean engulfing both of them. Her mouth on the bottle was good she thought, it was a good distraction so that she didn't do something stupid like lick his neck all of the sudden.

“We've been friends forever. My family owns the house next door, so we practically grew up together,” he said as he pointed to his house.

“Are you an artist?” the question came out of her mouth before she could think what she was saying. He gave her a questioning look, as if saying how do you know this crazy person. “Ehm, my window is just across from yours and it looks like an art studio so…” she said way too fast avoiding his gaze.

“Oh! I…”

“Look Annie! They grow up so fast!” Peeta shook his head at his friend as he chuckled, Katniss just scowled. Both Annie and Finnick came out to the porch and sat down. Annie stifling a chuckle and Finnick feeling rather proud of himself.

Finnick put an arm around Katniss’ shoulders and said: “Take care of her Peeta while we are gone would ya?” At that she stood up abruptly and almost shouted: “I can take care on my own!” She sprinted out of the porch into the house and went straight to her room without looking back, even though she felt a pair of blue eyes following her every move.

She lay on her bed, windows open, listening to soft music and reading a book. Well, trying to read a book. She had read the same line 4 times already. Huffing, she stood up and noticed that the light on Peeta’s art studio was on. She glanced that way and spotted his blond curls in front of a canvas. He was deep in concentration, his teeth biting his lower lip, he looked cute and hot at the same time. Damn. She approached the window sill and softly said: “Sorry about earlier" She didn't know why she was apologizing, she didn't do anything wrong but apparently she didn't want him to think that she was a psycho for some reason. At hearing her voice, he startled. He half smiled and said: “It's ok. Finnick can get everyone on their nerves.” She snorted in response. Classy. “But seriously if you need anything don't hesitate to ask,” he added quickly piercing her with his blue eyes again, making her shiver all over. Wrong, wrong, wrong. “Ok, I'll allow it,” she faintly smiled and went back to bed.

She was lying in bed thinking all the things those hands of him could help her with when her phone pinged. A text message from Gale. She growled into the pillow and faced her phone down on the bed side table, not wanting to deal with her feelings or him yet.

#everlark #the hunger games #the hunger games fanfiction #fanfic #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #sevendaysinsunnyjune #everlark fanfiction

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the-cookie-of-doom · 4 years ago

Text

Sizing the boards and the spine! Time to get everything cut down, then work the leather (big yikes), and sew the headband while everything dries. Book baby is almost done!

C h o n k

#cookie speaks #fanbinding #ficbinding #book binding #i am excite #this is coming along very well #I've never done this to leather before #like #I've done plenty of other things!!#but actually GLUING it???#mmmm #time to see if that wheat paste really does work I guess #and if no #glue it is

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cooljothomasina1 · 6 years ago

Photo

This was the poem I created while being at the Beach Hut on the seafront.

Our task for the next day was to exhibit our creations from the day before excursion. At home I painted a cork-board on the inside with colours that represented the sand, sea and sky. I then thought I would finish this off in the studios the next day. We had until 15:00 to finish then show our work.

Unfortunately, having a Skype interview to join the course, living in Bristol and not having done my research correctly, I was shocked to find out that there isn’t a general spares material area where you can find the basics if you haven’t got or have run out of some bits. The university simply haven’t got the room for such an area. I guess we were spoilt at college having those resources if we were stuck. This of course doesn’t bother me, as most of the stuff I made at college was from my own materials unless it was a workshop where we all used the materials the tutors provided for that session. And I don’t for one second expect the university to supply all my materials, it’s not their responsibility to supply, if it were, our course we be a much larger loan to pay back.

This time however, I was in a bit of a predicament, my first day in Norwich I got my bag stolen in it was all my ID, bank cards etc. I then received some very malicious emails making all kinds of threats.

Due to this it meant my bank not only cancelled my cards, they also froze my accounts for about six weeks. Then student loan had to block my first instalment until the bank had properly sorted things out, (nightmare or what) Just moved into a new place, so I had to borrow 2 months rent just to be secure with a roof over my head. My partner and brother helped me out a lot, but buying new art materials wasn’t on top of my priority list, food etc had to come first.

I did have a few materials at home, not much but it would have helped me create this first bit of work on the course.

This is where my research on resources would have come in handy if I’d only done the research in the first place, Mmmm...

Everyone was saying, that’s alright, you can just go to the NUA art shop, or there is loads of places in the centre where you can buy stuff. Unfortunately nether of those suggestions were an option, nor could I afford to put money on my paper-cut card to print off any of the photos I had taken. Feeling slightly frustrated, one of the PALS students said why don’t you use your two poems as your work, what a fab idea I thought. Then all I had to do was ask the office if they have any PVA glue in order for me to at least glue down my found objects from the Great Yarmouth beach, onto the already prepared cork-board I had painted at home, Nope! no glue ether. What they did have was some masking tape, which was great because I could rip the pages of poem out of the book. I randomly placed the sheets on my studio space wall, then I simply laid the cork-board down on my table scattering the sand, shells, stones, bird feathers, bird poo, weeds, etc inside the board. Then walked away hoping the tutors didn’t think ‘what an earth is this supposed to be, she hasn’t put any effort in at all’

But they thought no such thing, they said it just shows what you can do when you have to improvise. All, in all, I was quite please with the unexpected result of my exhibit.

Then of course the very next day, I brought into uni as many paints and other materials as I had available in-order to avoid that stressful situation happening again.

The moral to this story, don’t make my silly mistake, (Do Your Research!)

#Psychogeography

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harmonaka · 8 years ago

Note

do ALL of the oc asks (or just some of ur Favs) for ur fav oc!! :0

that’s a lot of asks anon omg!!! my fav oc changes a lot but currently it’s ayako! so here’s her!!! tyty anon!!!! <3

1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything?

Ayako Hatori. I picked the last name randomly, but Ayako is written with the kanji for “coloring.” So her name is basically color child.

2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them?

SHSL Rhythm Gamer. She can full-combo things that should probably be impossible.

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?

Well. A lot of her childhood was spent as a Monokuma Kid, so like… y’know. Before that, though, she lived a pretty normal life. She liked the arcade, and would frequently skip class in order to visit it. Leading to the bad memory, her mother wasn’t very pleased with that.

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents?

She was close with her mom. Her dad left her mom when Ayako was young.

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?

Ayako had one sister, who is as of now unnamed because I’m lazy. They were very close. Ayako’s older sister was an adult during the Towa City thing, so she’s hecking dead.

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

AYAKO DOES NOT! LIKE! SCHOOL! She’s bad at it and not trying is easier than trying only to get her hopes of a good grade crushed :’)

She’d probably like art class most. She wouldn’t even follow the instructions but–

Or possible P.E.

She hates pretty much the rest of it.

7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood?

She was probably kinda popular as a kid?. She had that sort of personality that made her get along well with kids. She *probably* would. I only use her in an rp group, though, so like… Not really.

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals?

Nope and nope. She likes animals to an extent, though. She thinks they’re kinda messy and as much as she loves them (especially dogs,) she wouldn’t want the responsibility of taking care of them.

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?

Eh. Just average. Not great, not bad. Average.

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect?

She gets along with them alright! She’s pretty good with kids, and kids tend to like her. She’d be a fun parent. The kind who impulse-buys you video games.

11. Do they have any special diet requirements? Are they a vegetarian? Vegan? Have any allergies?

Nah. She eats too much sugar, though, and she probably needs to stop that.

12. What is their favourite food?

Does konpeito count?

13. What is their least favourite food?

That kind of chocolate that has like no sugar? Like, extremely dark chocolate.

14. Do they have any specific memories of food/a restaurant/meal?

At least once in her life, she’s gone an entire day eating entirely candy. THAT’S SO UNHEALTHY AYAKO PLEASE STOP

15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?

Mmmm, not sure. I don’t think she ever really learned. She’d probably be able to make something decent with some help, but alone, it would probably be kinda bad.

16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it?

… Rainbow stationery. She’s got a special box full of the stuff. Pens, paper, glitter, glitter glue, stickers. Please stop her, she’s going to decorate everything.

17. Do they like to take photos? What do they like to take photos of? Selfies? What do they do with their photos?

SELFIES!!!!!!!!!!! SELFIES SHE LOVES SELFIES!!!!!!!!

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else

Horror, mystery, stuff. Probably on the opposite end there, also any and everything cute.

19. What’s their least favourite genres?

Educational stuff. Boooooring.

20. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do they do when they’re favourite song comes?

Yes and yes. She’ll probably try to dance. And fail.

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

She can be short-tempered, but she tries not to be. She’d probably yell at you.

22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?

She’ll say things to people’s faces… She probably doesn’t have a favorite, though? This is subject to change.

23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces?

Better with faces than names. A pretty average memory, leans more on the good side until it comes to school. Between short-term and long-term memory, no idea what would be more helpful with rhythm games. Whichever would be more useful.

24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?

She will sleep ‘till noon if you let her and she’ll stay up all night. No impulse control on this girl. She can sleep just about anywhere, but she loves soft things.

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?

She thinks she’s funny. She uses a lot of sarcasm in her jokes. She’s not that funny, but she thinks she is.

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions?

Her response to most emotions is play rhythm games.

27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad?

She won’t cry in front of someone. Ever. Unless she has absolutely no choice, OR they’re a person she trusts deeply. Jokes about her intelligence or lack of skill in something make her sad. She’ll be sad for a little before she gets just… angry.

28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?

Death. She really doesn’t wanna die. She’ll do her best to pretend she’s not scared of anything.

29. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very over protective?

It depends on who that person is, and how bad the fear is. If it’s someone she cares about who’s very scared of something, she may get kind of protective, but unless it’s serious, she’ll probably tease them.

30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out?

Yes, if playing DDR counts as exercise. She’s also going to be joining the cheer squad. I don’t think she’d act too much different pre/post workout?? Shrug emoji.

31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing?

Okay, she doesn’t usually drink, no, but she’s been drunk once. She’s kind of an emotional baby when she’s drunk, but also she’d flirt with anyone. she got drunk the other day, got her first kiss, and just devolved into a giggly mess for a minute there it was so cute tbh

32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?

RAINBOWS!!!!!! PASTELS!!!!! NEON!!!! ALL THE COLORS!!!! OH MY GOSH SO MANY COLORS. I’m not sure what kind of shops particularly, but… She’s got tons of clothes. All different colors. She loves flashy stuff. In the way of sleepwear, she probably has a few very-oversized t-shirts and she’ll just wear that to bed, with optional sweatpants.

She’ll wear a little makeup, sometimes, but for the most part, not all that much. She doesn’t wanna just sweat it off or something. For special occasions, definitely. Her hair’s blue and I want to touch it. I don’t actually know how to describe the style it’s in, but like… It looks like GUMI’s hair? Similar style.

34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body?

She’s got a bit of muscle! 5′2. She’s very confident about her body, actually. She has a lot of secret insecurities about herself personality-wise and she doesn’t think she’s exceptionally pretty in the face, but she does like her body.

35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure?

She loves that romancey stuff sometimes, okay. She will deny it adamantly, but. Unguilty pleasure is everything else, okay.

36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?

Rhythm games, obviously. She’s kind of got an eye for decorating, too. She can sing, too.

37. Do they like to read? Are they a fast or slow reader? Do they like poetry? Fictional or non fiction?

Not particularly. She’s kind of a slower reader. … Maybe some poetry. Not most. Fiction > nonfiction any day.

38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?

Tenacity. Not giving up on new things when you don’t get them right. She wishes she was better in school. Even with her best efforts, she still has C’s, mostly.

39. Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging?

Texting or IMing people is always easiest.

40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?

She likes ‘em, but honestly doesn’t need them.

41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?

She’s pan. Generally, personality is more important than looks in her opinion, but being attractive definitely doesn’t hurt anything. She probably likes weird-colored hair. Loves it.

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

She just… wants to improve herself. She doesn’t have any specific goals, but she would really just like to find something other than rhythm games that she’s naturally good at and use that to get a job. Rhythm games are probably not going to support her forever.

44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most?

She likes summer and spring. Sunny weather is her favorite and she’s better in the heat. She doesn’t really like the cold. Or the rain. She’ll complain in both of those.

45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?

She tends to brag a lot – trying to seem like she’s confident when she’s not. It makes her come off as vain and self-centered. She really has a lot of insecurities and that’s her way to try and seem cool.

47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event?

She tries. She TRIES. She is horribly stressed and awkward through the whole thing, though. She would dislike it a lot because she’d feel so pressured not to mess up.

48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend?

She just went to her first party recently. She’s… not entirely sure how she feels about them. They’re okay. She’d probably try to be pleasant. If she was dragged along, she’d probably just follow her friend around the entire time.

49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?

She has a charm bracelet from her sister. It’s got a broken clasp, but she still has it saved somewhere.

50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?

Ayako’s essentials include clothes, a hairbrush, toothbrush/toothpaste, her phone, charger, headphones, and a portable battery. I’m assuming this isn’t like one of those questions about like. A deserted island.

#Anonymous #asks #THANK YOU ANON #OC CRAP #LONG POST #AYAKO #AYAKO TBH

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