#and while these people are undoubtedly masters of their craft they always manage to pull off something amazing despite the challenges

[paris-geller-was-straightwashed]

February Writing Challenge (1/28)

surprise! guess who’s doing a writer’s challenge! I’ve never done one of these before bc the idea of having to finish a writing piece every day seemed a little intimidating - but, I feel like more recently I’ve been slipping off the writing saddle and not doing as much, so I kinda wanted to try a new project and challenge myself.

I’ve collected a pile of writing prompts for the whole of february, that, with luck, I’ll fill every one out! each one will be centred around one of my otps, so if you check in each day you’ll get to see which one it is :) or, you’ll just see it in the tags LOL and if there’s anything I feel like I especially like or whatever, I’ll add it to my ao3 after the month.

without further adieu, here’s day one!

Prompt: ‘Sweet Tooth (aka binging on candy with them)’

Pairing: Rory/Paris (Gilmore Girls)

Words: 2,853 (this is my first one, but ideally they won’t be this long)

Rating: G

Notes: when I saw the prompt, I just knew it had to be gellmore, obviously :) takes place during later season; you can imagine this is after rory dumped logan after the bridesmaids fiasco, or you can simply just imagine she dumped him on her own and then her and paris got together (really, the timeline doesn’t matter, the only reason logan is mentioned is bc I couldn’t resist the roast against him in this)

Really, any garbled, frustrated noise erupting through her apartment walls should come as a concern.

But, knowing her girlfriend had absorbed herself in some, all-important secretive task, Rory could only imagine what this entailed. Her head drew up from where she was studying on her bed, breaking away mid-paragraph of her textbook – the door was closed, but it clearly didn’t take a genius to sense something was awry. The question remained though, did Rory want to go out there to calm Paris down and risk getting in trouble for prying into secrets, or stay behind and simply watch this tornado grow until it swallowed up the whole apartment?

Rory held still in the silence. Then, came some more enraged muttering and that’s not how you run a business!! and the slam of a cell phone closing. Rory sighed in defeat.

Unfortunately, she knew better.

The brunette took in a breath, straightened up and squared her shoulders, before swinging herself off her bed. When she tentatively opened her bedroom door, she found Paris hunkered over the couch, a messily scrawled paper note on the table and hissing words under her breath that probably weren’t suited for children.

“Paris…?” Rory called out, quietly broaching the couch from the side, knowing her girlfriend needed to be approached with the caution you’d give to a wounded, snarling animal “Everything okay?..”

Ever the eagle-eye, Paris quickly caught Rory from the corner of her vision. Before Rory could even blink, Paris leapt with the spring of a jack-in-the-box, swiping the paper.

“You can’t see it!” Paris yelped, spinning around to glare daggers at Rory “And what’re you doing out here?! I told you that you can’t see what I’m working on – I need a ten-foot Rory-free radius around me!!”

“Just like in high school.” Rory said dryly “Well, when I heard you lay five different kind of insults down in one sentence, plus some Portuguese which I’m definitely sure isn’t also R-rated language, I figured I should check in. You sure everything is alright –”

“It’s fine!” Paris snapped back, pulling away at the gentle hand Rory raised, and, oh no, she’s in this mood “I’m just – I’m..working out some kinks! And, you know, god forbid that I ever expect anyone else on this planet to actually use their full brain to do things!..”

“Well, is there anything I can do?” Rory offered, trying to sneakily glimpse the paper the blonde held tight in her hand “Is it an assignment? ‘Cause if your concern is that I’m going to steal your ideas, I think you can let that one go –”

“Ha! I wish it were that easy – a school paper I can accomplish in my sleep.” Paris grumbled, leaning over the couch to swipe her phone “This is ten times both more complicated and dire!”

“Paris, relax, it’s going to be okay –”

“Don’t tell me to relax!” Paris hissed back “You don’t even know what it is!!”

“Then let me help! It’s clearly stressing you out –”

“No!” came the panicked yelp, and, this time, Rory could actually see rising anxiety break through the anger glazing over the brown eyes “I-I have to do this by myself! It’s of the upmost importance I get this perfect –”

“Paris, if you just tell me what it is –”

“No, you can’t know! This is my project Gilmore, stop trying to piggyback.” Paris deflected as she went over her sheet, causing Rory to sigh “If I can just – I just need to – I..dammit, okay, fine, not that I’ll..I’ll..ugh, I can’t do that either!!..”

“Paris –”

“Rory –”

“Paris.” Rory broke in forcefully, finally able to place a hand on Paris’s back, feeling the jittery girl relax against it slightly “At this rate, you’re going to get another noise compliant put in against us. Please just tell me what it is, and then maybe I can help so that neither of us have to worry over whether the next second is the second you’ll implode.”

That got her to quiet. Paris nervously teetered on her feet, vulnerable browns holding Rory’s gaze, but you could see the metaphorical flames start to dial down. Eventually, Paris sighed, shoulders slumping and arms folding in, finally uttering so low Rory could barely hear –

“...I’mtryingtoplanourValentines..”

“..What?”

“I’m trying to plan our Valentines!!” Paris tossed up her hands, her cheeks going pink “Alright?! And I want, I need, it to go perfectly! I’ve been trying to plan but I keep coming up against blockade after blockade – and, of course, usually, there’s no wall I at least can’t bulldoze my way though, but this is different! The ideal restaurant, my top pick, is apparently booked out for a month, no exceptions, and now apparently, the waiter has too high of morals to accept my offer of two hundred bucks under the table! So I went with the next best option, but when I called them they couldn’t even guarantee a window-side view! Who the hell runs their business like that?! The other place has more availability, but I know they don’t have as many of your favourite dessert options, and obviously, I know you enough to know that’s a high priority – and that’s not even to mention the Valentines Lights stroll put on at the park I wanted to take you to after, but depending on the restaurant we’re at, we may not even make it with the fifteen minute window I laid out –...”

Rory simply stood back, letting Paris roll out her frustrations – and, listening, couldn’t help but feel herself melting. A soft smile pulled over her lips, watching the blonde. She hadn’t even imagined that this was about her, but now, of course, she should’ve expected nothing less then Paris, her Paris, wanting to make their date night perfect. No detail spared, all cards on the table.

There’s been jokes passed around that Paris wasn’t exactly the romantic type – nothing about Paris was conventional, obviously, but Rory knew enough about her to know this was just as big of a display of love as anything mushy.

Rory reached in, grasping onto Paris’s wrists. That was enough to click Paris back into reality, slowing her rant, and finally turning face to face so Rory could lean in and kiss her cheek. Paris blinked back in surprise, finding not upset or annoyance, but Rory smiling back at her.

“Paris.” Rory began, grasping on her hands “While I should expect nothing less from you for going a hundred and ten percent, trust me when I say, that I do not need all the red carpets pulled out for me, especially when it comes to Valentines day. I mean, aren’t you the first to say that it’s just a consumerist trap anyway?”

“I mean, it still is – racking up five dollars for some cheap heart shaped crap is just one of the failing points of consumerist capitalism.” There she is “But I was also single then too.”

Rory snorted “I see..”

“Also..”

“What?”

“..This is our first Valentines together.” Paris explained earnestly “And I love you. You deserve the best, to put it bluntly.”

Rory’s smile grew “..Well, that goes for you too. And I don’t want to have you stressing yourself over some extravagant event that’s one night only.”

“I’ll reiterate Gilmore – it’s our first Valentines together. It needs to be special. Frankly, you’re the best relationship I’ve ever had; you’re my best friend. I won’t go half-way for you.”

“You never go half-way for anything.” Rory couldn’t help but tease, seeing the twitch of Paris’s lips.

“This is true. The fact that you thought I wouldn’t pull out all the stops for you, or even just for any event I’m planning..”

“How foolish of me.”

“Also, I refuse to be out-done by Logan Huntzberger – I know that Rolls-Royce car show model cut-out would’ve flown you to the moon if he could’ve, and I will not fall in second place.”

An uncontrollable laugh burst out of Rory. She had to bite into her bottom lip to tamper it, rising the back of her hand to her mouth as a poor mask. Paris was, of course, deadly serious by the finger she pointed in Rory’s face, but there was still mirth dancing along her tilted lips.

“..I appreciate that.” was all Rory decided to say, smiling as she swung her and Paris’s clasped hands “But am I allowed to voice an honest opinion on this whole thing?”

“You know I only speak in honest opinions.”

“..I really don’t want a whole red-carpet, put-out-all-the-stops Valentines. I mean, you do know me Paris; I’ve never really been a Valentines gal. And..doing a whole fancy restaurant ordeal..you know I get nervous just standing in those super spotless, sparsely packed boutiques where a t-shirt costs more then a brand-new car. You put me in a restaurant booth where our neighbours are some rich guy who owns three different blocks of the town sitting with this fourth wife, I feel like I’m gunna be more nervous over that ordeal then focused on us.”

As always happens, Rory expected some kind of argument, a rebuttal, so she was pleasantly shocked when Paris just nodded mutely. Not without some disappointment though, which got Rory to squeeze their entwined hands in gentle encouragement so Paris’s nervous eyes find hers.

“I love that you wanna make it special. Again, I should’ve known better then to assume that you wouldn’t have done all you could. But, I don’t want all that glitz. I just want you.”

By now, Rory knew how to parse her words with the firecracker that was her girlfriend. And when that quiet, careful rarity of a smile grew over Paris, Rory couldn’t help her own.

It’s true, that there was something special when someone who bares sharp teeth at everyone else, allows themselves a soft happiness towards you. About being the only one who gets to see it.

But Rory also just loves that smile.

“..But you’re still expecting some kind of chocolate or dessert too, of course.” Paris finally spoke.

“Oh, well, I assumed that was a given.”

Paris scoffed warmly. She lifted her and Rory’s entwined hands up to her face, kissing the back of the pale hand.

“Just like in that ‘Princess Bride’ movie you made me rewatch at least ten times, as you wish. I will find the perfect alternative.”

“I don’t doubt it. Am I allowed to offer any kind of input or help in this whole thing?”

“Try and intervene and you’ll be sleeping with one eye open.”

“Got it.” Rory rolled her eyes playfully, pulled away when she heard her watch interrupt with a beep! “Crap, that’s the hour – I gotta get ready for my evening class. I’ll see you tonight?”

Paris hummed in reply, a wry smile still playing on her lips, altogether letting Rory know that she was back in the confidence saddle. She placed her freed fingers under Rory’s chin, tilting her face in her direction to place a light kiss at the corner of her mouth.

“You go on my love.” Paris encouraged as she began backing up towards the bedroom, holding up her scribbled piece of paper with a grin “In the meantime, I’m going to cook up an idea for the best Valentines you’d ever witnessed.”

“So we’re actually going to have desserts then?”

“Don’t insult the hand that feeds Gilmore.”

-

And impressed Rory was.

To be fair, she didn’t have a lot to go off of in the first place. After that initial bump, there were no more moments of finding Paris tearing her hair out because she couldn’t make time-constraints bend to make her Valentines plan work. She seemed to have crafted the perfect idea, content to wear a smile of secrecy and keep it from Rory.

Now, Valentines was here and come. Rory was waiting for the invite, waiting for an ask, but Paris hadn’t even said boo about her idea; now, Rory was coming off of her late study-hall group, the evening encroaching, and when she’d called her girlfriend to say she was headed home, all Paris said was that she was just waiting for Rory to walk in the door, and then things would kick off from there.

Rory wasn’t expecting anything too wild, especially after explicitly telling Paris that wasn’t what she wanted – but, that didn’t stop her from speculating. She figured when she walked in, Paris would be ushering them right back out to head to the event she’s picked out. Something like that.

What Rory wasn’t expecting, was for her to open the door and find Valentines staring back at her instead.

No, there wasn’t any red and white balloons shaped like hearts clouding the room. There were no giant ‘Be Mine!’ teddy bears, or pink hearts strung up everywhere. What was there, was a complete massacre of candy.

Their whole coffee table covered in treats. Rory couldn’t even see the table anymore. Bowls of brightly coloured confections and chocolates, lined up creating a rainbow of colour. A pile of red licorice matched beside packets of oreos. Near the table, was an ice bucket of champagne accompanied by two flute glasses.

Rory stood gobsmacked for a good couple seconds. This was the last thing she would’ve thought of – and it was the best thing she could’ve thought of.

A noise of shuffling feet got her attention. Paris had appeared, idly standing off of the couch with the ghost of a smile on her face as she watched Rory. She was dressed in a nice, white sweater and simple jeans, blonde strands of hair grazing over her cheek. Rory always did like her with her hair down.

“Told you it’d kick off the moment you opened the door.”

“Paris..” a bemused laugh fell out of Rory as she took in the sight again, sliding off her bag and kicking the door shut behind her “I – you did all this?..”

“Don’t look so surprised.” Paris raised one of her brows, but her smile widened “Putting all this together was nothing – the hardest part, really, was hiding all the candy from you.”

“Oh, yeah – where did you hide it?”

“Behind that healthy cereal I bought that you claim tastes like cardboard.”

“Devious.” Rory grinned. Paris smirked. She walked over to take the brunette’s hand, pulling her into the apartment.

“But that’s not all – if you could glance upon the kitchen counter..”

Rory turned to follow Paris’s directions, finding an all new assortment – of chocolate and caramel sauces, with some whip cream and peanut butter. Surgery condiments, which could only mean..

“Unfortunately, you don’t get the whole picture as the ice cream had to stay in the freezer, but trust me that I bought at least three different flavours so you can double-stack your sandwich.”

“Ice cream sandwiches?? Wait, so, where’s the replacement bread –”

Rory followed Paris’s pointed finger to see the oven, which was usually only used to reheat leftovers when the microwave stopped working, this time had a cooling rack ontop littered in chocolate chip cookies. Cookies. Now Rory’s jaw hit the floor.

“You baked?!”

“You can thank Nanny for those. I needed something to sandwich the ice cream, and though I’ve yet to conquer the culinary world, that woman knows a baked good well enough she was able to walk me through the steps of her signature recipe.”

“Are they edible?”

“Funny. I actually tried one afterwards, and dare I say, they’re more then edible.”

“..I can’t believe you cooked.” Rory beamed back at her girlfriend “You cooked for me.”

“I baked a simple cookie recipe Rory, it’s not rocket science.” Paris waved off, smiling back “After having to reroute my original Valentines plan, I mulled over what it is you’d really like – and, frankly, in the end, I knew you would’ve loved a night in watching all our favourites, gorging on surgery snacks, over any elaborate escapade. Or, at least, that’s what I’m hoping you’ll say..”

The way Paris was looking up at her through her lashes, nervously biting on the answer, Rory couldn’t stand how cute it was. An all new smile bloomed over her lips.

“It’s perfect.”

The smile that burst over Paris could’ve made Rory lovesick. She lit up, rocking up on her toes, her grin reaching up all the way to her ears.

“Really?..” She asked softly. Rory let out a gentle laugh. She reached into cup Paris’s faces, a tiny pull inwards so she could kiss her cheek.

“I love it so much, and I love you. The array of treats – you really know the way into a Gilmore’s heart.”

“This many years on, I’ve learned some tricks.” Paris teased back, crossing the space to softly kiss Rory in return “Happy Valentines..”

“The best one yet.”

“Does that mean I beat Huntzberger then?...”

“Well, he never make me homemade ice cream sandwiches..”

“Ha!”

“Alright, alright, hurry up with your gloating – I wanna try these sandwiches paired with that champagne I saw earlier, and I want my girlfriend to try it with me..”

“As you wish, my love.”

[jalapeno-princess]

According To Him

CEO Mark X Reader

Genre: THE FLUFFIEST OF FLUFF I HAVE EVER WRITTEN (with some mentions of sex) (God how do I write about things I have never and probably will never experience I am so sad)

Word Count: 6.5K

Summary: Being in such a high position at one of the biggest tech companies in the country on top of attending college full time can be a lot to handle. You’ve never thought highly of yourself and there were days that you felt like giving up because the workload was too hard. You also were extremely insecure over every single thing about yourself. However, there is one person who makes you feel like the most beautiful, hard working and deserving person in the entire world--the CEO of the company you work at and the man of your dreams, Mark Tuan. 

A/N: (GUESS WHOSE BACK, BACK AGAIN IN LESS THAN A WEEK) IT’S ME WITH ANOTHER STORY but this time it’s adorable, endearing, full of love and laughter and everything I wish was going on in my life but no, I’m seconds away from a mental breakdown every single day. This is based off of Ariana Grande’s new song “POV” and honestly as soon as i heard the song I knew I had to write an imagine based on it it’s sooooo good I wish someone made me feel that way dude why can’t I have a boyfriend like Mark in this story (Or just Mark in general) Please enjoy! (And cry with me)

It's like you got superpowers Turn my minutes into hours You got more than 20/20, babe Made of glass, the way you see through me You know me better than I do Can't seem to keep nothin' from you How you touch my soul from the outside Permeate my ego and my pride

I wanna love me (ooh) The way that you love me (ooh) Ooh, for all of my pretty and all of my ugly too I'd love to see me from your point of view I wanna trust me (trust me) The way that you trust me (trust me) Oh, 'cause nobody ever loved me like you do I'd love to see me from your point of view

“If we want to build stronger relationships with our hundreds of clients in order to get them to prolong their contracts with us, I suggest that we increase the amount of stocks that we invest in to each of their companies and find more sponsors to help get the attention of the public—maybe we could start putting ads on television or on the radio?” 

If there was anything you hated about your job, it was public speaking. For someone who graduated with her master’s degree in communications with double minors in criminal justice and journalism, one would think you were great when having to speak to a large group of people—but no. Your entire body along with your voice was shaking profusely and you felt as if you were about to throw up. If it wasn’t for the devastatingly handsome man whose been sneaking cheeky winks and a few grins in your direction here and there in order to calm your racing heart, then you would have blew the entire thing. 

“I think that’s a wonderful idea y/n. A lot of people listen to the radio nowadays and television can get the attention of those who don’t drive or use cars as transportation. What does everyone else think?” 

If Mark wasn’t there, you were sure your heart would have jumped out of your chest. He actually wasn’t supposed to be there; he had a couple of meetings he had scheduled months beforehand, but when he found out that the members of the board were having a meeting and you were expected to be involved in it while presenting your ideas on how the company you were currently working for could expand throughout the United States and maybe even outside of the country, he cancelled every single meeting with the intention of giving you moral support. 

No matter how much you tried to reject his offer, not wanting to get in the way of his other responsibilities—you’d be lying if you said you weren’t extremely happy that he was there. His presence was undoubtedly calming; no matter wherever the two of you were, whether it was a board meeting, a company dinner or more relaxing and romantic places like the beach or on vacation in Europe, Mark could always bring you serenity. 

You looked around hesitantly in attempts to prevent Mark from seeing the blush he caused rise upon your cheeks from gazing at you and because you were genuinely curious about what your colleagues had to say about your brainstorm. When you saw a hand raise—particularly by a specific someone you weren’t all too fond of in your workplace, you wanted to let out a disgusted groan, but you refused to stoop to her level nor did you want any of your coworkers thinking you were rude. 

“Don’t get me wrong, that is a decent idea—but I know there are other things we can do that would better benefit the company without having to waste money on unnecessary ad sales. With all due respect sir, I don’t think it’s fair for you to show favoritism towards y/n just because she’s your girlfriend.” 

If you weren’t surrounded by fifteen other people, you were sure you would have leaped across of the table and socked her in the face. There were at least 1,000 people employed at the company you were working at and although you haven’t met every single person, you genuinely liked all the employees you did get the chance to get introduced to. However, there was only one person in particular that you honestly could do without and she just so happened to feel the need to speak up against you because she loved making you look stupid—especially in front of Mark. 

From the day you met her, Megan never seemed to care about you even if you were nothing but nice and friendly to her. You didn’t care though—you were there to work, not to worry about someone who dislikes you. But you didn’t do anything wrong for her to treat you as if you were scum of the earth. Every time you would walk past her desk, she would glare at you and during meetings like these that unfortunately she had to attend, she would always plot against you. 

You overheard a conversation between two colleagues in the bathroom one day about how Megan felt as though Mark might have taken a liking to her and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Your boyfriend had no clue about the way she treated you so rudely; you didn’t like starting unnecessary drama, but you were sure he caught on to her hostility—she wasn’t very vague about it. 

As the days went on though, you only grew more and more irritated with her and it was getting harder for you to bite back your tongue and prevent yourself from saying how you truly felt about her. It didn’t matter that your boyfriend just so happened to be the CEO of the tech company you’ve been working at for almost three years now; if you were to physically attack someone or instigate a fist fight, there was nothing he could do if she were to press charges—well other than bail you out—but that wouldn’t look too good for him as one of the youngest and most successful CEOs in the country. 

Your boyfriend Mark just so happened to take over his father’s company right after the elder man decided to retire just a year after you began working there. You were an intern at the company for a couple of months before Mark’s dad offered you a permanent job; stating that you were one of the best interns he’s ever had—that you were extremely responsible, hard working, dedicated to your craft, passionate about your education and just an all around kind of person. 

The Tuan family’s company was a very fast paced working environment. Nine hours would pass by faster than you could even comprehend only because you were constantly doing something. You’d be lying if you said your life didn’t get stressful every now and then—managing both college and a full-time job wasn’t the easiest thing to do; especially since you were a double major. But you did your best to stay on top of school and work. You were introduced to Mark one day by his father when he told you that he wanted the two of you to work together in order to build a healthy work relationship seeing as how he wanted you to be his son’s go to person. 

Mr.Tuan trusted you the most out of every single person working at his company; so it was only natural for him to want you to show his son the same support that you’ve shown him. 

Mark was nothing short of a gentleman when you first met him—he never used his position or the fact that he was the heir to the company to get what he wanted or to intimidate anyone of the employees in anyway. In fact, sometimes you’d forget that his family owned the company and that he was supposed to take over his dad’s position seeing as how he blended in so well with everyone else. He allowed you to show him the ropes; even if his father was the CEO and this company has been in his family for over four generations, he himself has never really been involved in what went on at the company. 

His parents wanted him to enjoy his life and do whatever it was that he wanted to do before having him take on such an important and tiresome role. Mark was such an amazing listener and he seemed to be very eager to learn. He complimented you on how dedicated and how hard working you were and he was very grateful that his dad had someone working for him who cared for the success of their company as much as he did. 

There was a point where you spent almost every minute that you were at work with Mark and you honestly weren’t complaining. You loved his presence and enjoyed how happy he made you. Although he wasn’t a man of many words, his actions spoke for him. He’d open every single door for you, pulled out your chairs, carried the things you would need for meetings, held your bag as you paid for coffee—hell, he even started to take over every bill that you had whether it was for food, drinks or just your necessities. 

At first, you assumed that he was only being nice as a way to no verbally thank you for helping him out—but with the way he would look at you with a certain glint and sparkle in his eyes, and the way he would try and touch you every now and then, whether it was bringing back some of your hair behind your ear, pulling you on the inside as the two of you walked on the sidewalk or playfully poking your cheek if he noticed you falling asleep from how exhausted you were, people didn’t do that to just anybody. 

It was obvious he felt comfortable around you and you knew it was a stretch to feel this way, but you were secretly hoping that he saw you as more than just a colleague. You knew you were screwed from the moment he was assigned to work under you—Mark had to be the handsomest man you’ve ever seen in your entire life. He had the most well-defined features; the prettiest brown eyes, a sharp and pointy nose, prominent cheek bones and the softest, heart shaped lips. 

You’d find yourself staring at his lips during meetings or when the two of you would get lunch together and you always wondered what it would be like to feel them against yours. Only after a month, your partnership with Mark grew more flirtatious. He would always playfully tease you and make jokes in attempts to make you laugh when he could tell you were stressed; he also complemented you every single day about how beautiful he thought you were and how your laugh had to be the prettiest and most contagious sound in the world. You’d observe the way he would act around the other employees to see if the way he interacted with you was just him being friendly—but he hardly ever talked to anyone else unless he had to for business purposes.

It made you feel special in a sense that maybe—just maybe Mark had developed some kind of romantic feelings for you as you quickly did with him. One night, Mark took you out to dinner as a way to thank you for all you’ve done for him so far and the night went along perfectly. Conversation flowed so easily between the two of you and you found out that you had so much in common with the older boy. Your sense of humors were the exact same and you both were very generous when it came to helping out the less fortunate. 

You didn’t think much of him offering to drop you home, you just assumed he wanted to make sure you made it in to your apartment safely. Once the two of you pulled up to your complex, he insisted on walking you to your door. You didn’t really expect anything once you were to reach the front door—you planned on thanking him for such an amazing night and for taking you home. 

To your surprise, he tugged on your wrist and pulled you in to his chest before connecting your lips together in a sweet kiss. His lips were so soft and tasted like bubblegum—he lowered his hands to your waist while licking on your bottom lip, ultimately bringing it in between his teeth. The two of you made out for a couple of minutes until Mark abruptly pulled away. Right as you were about to whine at the loss of his lips against yours, he hid his face in the crook of your neck and giggled softly. 

“I like you y/n—a lot more than I’d like to admit actually. If I’m being honest, I think it might be more than that. I’ve liked you from the minute my dad had me shadow you and if I’m being honest, I kind of hinted towards wanting to be partnered up with you because I witnessed how amazing your work ethic is and I’ve admired how intelligent and talented you are. I think my dad talks more highly about you than he does me and I can see why—you’re wonderful y/n. These last few weeks with you has been some of the best moments of my entire life. You make me so happy. I would have never thought that I would actually enjoy going to work as much as I do and it’s specifically because I want to see you. Would you—um—maybe want to be my girlfriend? I totally understand if you don’t want to and please don’t feel as if you have to reciprocate my same feelings because I’m going to be your boss or because you feel bad—“ 

You didn’t allow him to say anything else before you roughly smashed your lips back up against his. Now that you knew how it felt like to kiss him—something you’ve been dreaming about for quite some time now, you would never get enough of having his lips meld perfectly in unison with yours. 

“I like you too Mark. You don’t understand how happy I am—I’m sure you’ve caught me stealing glances at you every now and then. I would doze off sometimes and dream about what it would be like to be the lucky girl who gets to love you and be loved by you. I would love to be your girlfriend. If you don’t have to go yet, did you maybe want to uh—come inside for some coffee?” 

He beamed at you and nodded in excitement—it didn’t take a genius to know that coffee was not at all going to be involved in the nights festivities and he couldn’t care less. He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t dreamt about being intimate with you and getting to see you naked and bare—writhing underneath him while begging him to do anything to soothe the fire building inside of you. It’s happened on many occasions and he isn’t embarrassed to say a lot of his wet dreams were caused by you. As soon as you both made your way inside, he pressed you up against the door and began leaving sloppy kisses on the expanse of your neck and chest while whispering sweet nothings against your jaw. 

That entire night was spent relishing in your newfound relationship in your bed, in the shower, on the counter and up against your fridge. From that night on, the two of you were inseparable—it wasn’t much of a change from your usual time spent together other than him being even more clingy and touchier now that the two of you were a couple. Plus, you got to see him on the weekends which was a bonus—even if you spent almost ten hours a day every single day with him, it was never enough. 

Both you and your boyfriend decided to keep your relationship a secret from everyone at the company to prevent people from talking negatively of you or assuming that you were only dating Mark for beneficial reasons which was far from the truth. You didn’t think it was possible for Mark to be an even more amazing boyfriend than he was a business partner, but he proved you wrong entirely. He was so shy and soft whenever it came to you. 

Although he practically hovered over your tiny frame, the older boy would follow you around like a lost puppy. He would show up to your apartment every morning and take you with him to work so you didn’t have to worry about transportation. He would also wait until you were finished with work if he just so happened to end earlier that you did in order to take you home. If Mark was anything, it was extremely observant. 

It took him less than a week to learn your coffee order, he’d purchase all kinds of things for you while he’d go grocery shopping, he would buy you bags and clothes that he thought would look amazing on you, he would write you cute little post it notes and stick it all around your desk and if you were to catch a cold or if you weren’t feeling all too well, he’d take off from work in order to help nurse you back to health—in more ways than one. You never thought you would ever be able to experience the love Mark was giving to you. 

You’ve only ever been in two actual relationships before him. Other than that, you were the type of person who enjoyed to fool around. Whenever you and your friends would go out to clubs and bars, you’d find yourself getting drunk and taking someone home whose name you’d never got around to learning. If you were being honest, you never thought you would ever be in a long term relationship before. 

Your parents divorced when you were only two years old and it seemed like most of the adults you were surrounded with just so happened to be divorced also. Love was a foreign word to you—you never believed love could exist. Everything you’ve seen in movies was fake; all these shows and books about men who would give their lives for their significant others, you thought it was complete and utter bullshit. You ended up breaking up with both your boyfriends because you were afraid of getting your heart broken. 

It wasn’t like either of them really made you feel loved or genuinely cared for in the first place, so breaking up with them didn’t hurt as much as you expected to. That all changed the minute you found yourself falling in love with Mark. Time and time again, you told yourself you would never allow yourself to make such a stupid mistake—nor did you want to give your heart, mind, spirit and just yourself entirely  away to someone who would only break your heart and leave you like it is the easiest thing do to. 

For years, you’ve put up this barrier around your heart and kept every single person out of it. However, you didn’t know how he did it—but Mark knock down your walls and made you want to fall in love with him. Even before you really got to know him and how he was as a person, you know you could trust him. You wanted to give yourself a chance at love; it’s what you deserved. You couldn’t keep running away from something so good—or someone who obviously loved you more than life itself just because you didn’t want them to hurt you. 

The way he took care of you—even if you weren’t necessarily aware of it; the way he looked at you with so much adoration and happiness, the way he would talk so highly about you to everyone he surrounded himself with made it all the more clear that you must have meant a lot to Mark and you weren’t going to let anything or anyone for that matter get in the way of experiencing what true love felt like. Not once in your relationship with Mark did you ever have to worry about getting hurt—you knew that man loved you with his entire being. He never failed to show you or tell you every single day and sometimes you had a hard time accepting that someone could love you so much in the way Mark evidently did. 

Mark Tuan had to be the best thing that has ever happened to you and you were never going to take him for granted. He was the man you knew you wanted so badly to spend the rest of your life with—there was nobody in this world that you loved or could ever love more than you did with him. He captivated your heart in ways you didn’t believe was possible. Honestly, there were times where you felt as though he deserved better. 

You didn’t think all that highly of yourself; sure you had a pretty high position at his company for someone who was only 21-years-old and you were obviously well educated, but you weren’t very sociable nor did you think you were as street smart as you were book smart. You also never considered yourself to be attractive; you’d stare at yourself in the mirror ever now and then and picked out a lot of your features that you didn’t like about yourself.  

There were days that you thought everything about you was ugly; your teeth were crooked, your eyebrows were bushy, you had chubby cheeks, you were on the more curvy side—you had thick thighs, decent sized breasts and your butt was on the bigger side, but you also had big hips and your stomach wasn’t as flat as you wish it would be. On many occasions, you found yourself growing jealous of a few of the employees at the company because a lot of them were so pretty and had petite, dainty bodies. 

No matter how many times your boyfriend would remind you on a daily basis that he thought your body was so beautiful and that he was completely obsessed with each and every curve, beauty mark and birth mark scattered along your skin, your insecurities never failed to get the best of you and you’d always tell yourself that he probably wanted someone with the body of a model. However, you would observe Mark just as much as he did with you; he never batted an eye at any other girl—even when he talked to one of your colleagues, he seemed so disinterested and it made your heart flutter. 

You wanted nothing more than to be content with the fact that your boyfriend only had eyes for you, but it was only natural for you to feel as though you weren’t good enough for him. There was an insult on the tip of your tongue; you wanted to ask her what she had in mind and hoped that it was worse than your idea so she would look like a complete dumbass, but luckily—Mark beat you to it. 

“Decent? I think you mean brilliant—and no Megan, I do not allow my personal affairs to conflict with my work ethic. I genuinely like y/n’s idea and I would support her even if we weren’t dating. Do you have any better ideas?” 

You didn’t have to confess anything out loud; Mark could read your body language like it was a picture book. He knew you better than he knew himself and even better than you knew yourself. With the way you tightened your fists and clenched your jaw, he knew you were seconds away from reaching across the table and pulling on Megan’s hair and if he was telling the truth—he was all for it. Your boyfriend knew all about your ill-relationship with the older girl—he wasn’t blind. Your mood was always quick to change from excited and bubbly to quiet and visibly annoyed whenever she came around. 

He wasn’t the kind of person to press you for information if you didn’t want to flat out tell him yourself. He did wish you would tell him though; he wanted to know everything that was bothering you or things that made you upset—if there was anything Mark loathed, it was seeing you sad. His sole purpose was to make sure you were constantly happy, healthy and living the best life possible. 

As a CEO, he couldn’t fire her for the reason that she was tormenting you; there was no evidence. But as your boyfriend, he could use his title against her and he always used that to his advantage—to protect you. You had to bite your lip to prevent yourself from laughing at the sight of her now defeated demeanor. 

“No sir.” Mark sent you a cheeky wink before clapping his hands together and getting up from his seat. 

“What does everyone else think about the radio station and television commercial ad idea?” Everyone around you nodded their heads in agreement and some even gave your boyfriend a thumbs up—you weren’t one to boast nor did you particularly find contentment in proving others wrong unless they deserved it and Megan definitely deserved the shade your boyfriend gave her. 

“Good, then it’s settled. If anyone has any better ideas—then feel free to bring it to the next meeting. But until then, we’ll go along with what y/n pitched and take it from there. I have some phone calls I have to make, so I’ll be taking my leave. Good job everyone.” Mark bowed to the entire table and quickly made his way towards the door but not before walking over to you and gently squeezing your shoulder. 

“No rush, but can you come to my office once you wrap things up here? I want to talk more about your idea.” 

You nodded in agreement even if you knew that you and your boyfriend would only briefly go over what was brought up in the meeting before doing something you both shouldn’t do in a work environment. The meeting only lasted for a couple of minutes after Mark had left—all the employees in attendance were extremely supportive of what you came up with and you couldn’t have been more thrilled and grateful with their responses. 

Right after you adjourned the meeting, you made a beeline for Mark’s office; not wanting anyone—specifically Megan to keep you from your boyfriend any longer. When you noticed her approaching, you quickened your pace and made sure she was no longer tailing you once you reached Mark’s door. You knocked gently and waited patiently for him to invite you in and as soon as he called out for you to enter, you made your way inside and gave him no time to process your movements before flopping on to his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. A soft giggle fell from his lips as he brought his hands down to your waist and held you tightly against his body. 

“You’re amazing and I love you. Thank you baby.” His laughter filled the room—going straight to your chest and making warmth rise upon your cheeks. For someone who was only three years away from turning thirty, he had the most adorable, high pitched laugh that you knew could light up any room he was in. 

“You’re the one whose amazing and I meant what I said—your idea is brilliant. Almost as brilliant as you my love. You never cease to amaze me. Did you see the look on Megan’s face when I indirectly called her out? That shit was priceless I wish I got it on camera. By the way—why didn’t you tell me about how she acts towards you earlier? I’m not stupid y/n, I know there must be some kind of animosity between the two of you and I know you’re not the cause of it. You know you can trust me with these things. What else does she do to you? Nobody treats my baby so unfairly and can expect me not to do anything about it.” 

You brought your hand up to his cheek and cupped it ever so gently before placing a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. He smiled softly against your lips and stole a couple more kisses before leaning back in his chair in order to get a better look at you. 

“I didn’t want to bother you with something I can handle on my own. I’m a big girl Mark and I don’t let shit like that bother me. I don’t know why she acts like this, I didn’t do anything to her—and I don’t want everyone here to think that I’m not capable of fighting my own battles and that I have to have my boyfriend use his power to fight them for me. I’m sure a lot of employees gossip to each other about our relationship—“

“Who cares what anyone says? Our relationship is nobody’s business but our own. I just—I’m sorry, hearing her try to make you seem so small—so incapable of great things pissed me the fuck off. You’re the hardest worker we have in this entire company and I’m not just saying that because you’re the love of my life. I’m saying it because I’ve watched you work your ass off for the last four years taking on overtime, flying all around the world to meet with and make business with all these important companies, staying up all night to study for exams only to come in the next morning like you weren’t exhausted at all. You are an ethereal being baby. You’re otherworldly and I just can’t stop looking at you in astonishment. I hope you know Megan and every other girl who acts that way towards you is just jealous of you and I don’t blame them. I mean, just look at you.” 

The tears were hot as they built up at the brim of your eyelids. This happened almost every single day. Mark had a habit of going in to detail about the love he had for you and how wonderful he thought you were and you were never prepared to hear his complements and sweet words. 

“I don’t know what they would be jealous about Mark. Like you said, look at me—“

“I am looking at you. I can’t seem to stop looking at you. All I ever want to do for the rest of my life is look at you and admire you for the extraordinary human being that you are. You are the most beautiful girl in the world, I’m being completely honest y/n. You are so fucking gorgeous, I can’t even form your beauty in to words. You’re honestly God’s favorite and definitely mine. I hate that you think so negatively about yourself when I think the world of you. I know there’s no such thing as a perfect person but damnit y/n, you come very close. I really don’t know what I did to deserve you—and yes, I know what you’re thinking and you can just get rid of the thought that you’re not good enough for me out of your mind completely. Y/n, you are the best thing to ever happen to me—I mean that wholeheartedly. All my life, I felt as though something was missing but I could never put my finger on it. When I met you, everything changed and it just clicked. You were my missing puzzle piece—you’ve brought so much love and light in to my life and I’m forever thankful for being blessed with you to be my person.” 

You allowed the tears to fall from your eyelids and a small sob left your throat leading Mark to laugh against your jaw while bringing you closer to his chest. He began to run his fingers through your hair and left a few gentle kisses all around your face. 

“God Mark, I don’t know what I did to deserve you but I would do it again and again—I would lead and fight an entire world war if it meant getting to be the person you love in each and every single lifetime. I can’t even—I know I tell you that I love you every single day but I can’t help to feel as though it’s not enough. I wish there was more I could say or do to show you just how much I truly, deeply and irrevocably love you, how you mean the entire world to me and how I would be completely nothing without you. I wish I could see myself the way you see me—from your point of view. I want to trust and believe in myself the way you do. I wish I could love myself, the way you love me. I’m trying to learn to love myself because I know you worry about me and I don’t want you to anymore. I want to make you proud Mark—“

“You do make me proud y/n—every single day. I know you want to keep us a secret for reasons I have yet to understand—I’m sure now it has to do with people like Megan, but you shouldn’t care about what anyone thinks about you other than yourself and me. I think you’re the most astounding person I have ever met. It’s okay if you never learn to love yourself baby—I love you enough for the both of us and I will spend the rest of my life reminding you just how much of a wonderful, amazing, beautiful both on the inside and out and extremely sexy woman you are.” 

He stole a few sloppy kisses from the corner of your mouth and began grazing your cheek feather lightly.

“You don’t have to do anything more to prove your love for me, I feel it in my heart. You’re the reason it beats by the way. You keep my blood rushing and my veins pumping. I would give up anything and everything—this job, my family, my friends, hell I would even give up my PlayStation 5 for you and that says a lot baby. You’re all I could ever want and need  in my life. Now, if you want to show me some gratitude for loving you so much and for being your backbone today, maybe you could help me fix the problem in my pants that you caused as soon as I saw you leave the bathroom this morning wearing this outfit. Did I tell you how breathtakingly beautiful and devastatingly sexy you look right now? You know what was so hard for me—well, other than my painfully hardened erection, but it was seeing you in this skirt and blouse—watching you tell everyone of your plans with so much confidence and observing the way all the men in there were looking at you with desire in their eyes and not being able to walk up to you and kiss you with all my energy. I would have fucked you right there on the table if I could. But now that we’re both on lunch break—I’m all for eating you out right now. Lunch with a view sounds amazing and I’m not talking about the cityscape babe.” 

You playfully shoved him while attempting to get out of his embrace but he wasn’t having any of it and tightened his grip around your waist if it was even possible. “Mark, we can’t have sex right now, everyone is going to find out what we’re doing. You and I are not exactly the quietest people when we have sex—“ 

He gave you the most adorable pout before bringing his lips right under your ear and nibbling tenderly—trying to get a rise out of you. “Why not? We’ve made love in here many times y/n. I daydream about the multiple times I fucked in to you auto against this desk and against the window. The imprint of your breast on the glass is still in the back of my mind. Who cares if they hear? All the more better. I saw the way all the men would let their eyes linger on you a little too long. I think it’s time they are reminded that your bed is spoken for. It’ll also teach anyone in this building not to mess with you. Don’t try to talk me out of it, I know you’re a huge exhibitionist baby. There’s this one particular position that I wanted to try out if you’re okay with it. I’m going to need you to get on all fours and this blouse, as amazing as it looks on you, I want to see these pretty titties bounce for me. Get ready to sing my love—I’m going to make sure everyone on this floor knows whose the boss in more ways than one.”

I'm getting used to receiving Still getting good at not leaving I'ma love you even though I'm scared Learnin' to be grateful for myself You love my lips 'cause they say the Things we've always been afraid of I can feel it starting to subside Learnin' to believe in what is mine

I wanna love me (ooh) The way that you love me (ooh) Ooh, for all of my pretty and all of my ugly too I'd love to see me from your point of view I wanna trust me (trust me) The way that you trust me (trust me) Ooh, 'cause nobody ever loved me like you do I'd love to see me from your point of view

I couldn't believe it Or see it for myself Know I be impatient But now I'm out here fallin', fallin' Frozen, slowly thawing, got me right I won't keep you waitin', waitin' All my baggage fadin' safely (baggage fadin') And if my eyes deceive me Won't let them stray too far away

I wanna love me (ooh) The way that you love me (ooh) Ooh, for all of my pretty and all of my ugly too I'd love to see me from your point of view I wanna trust me, ooh (trust me) The way that you trust me, baby (trust me) 'Cause nobody ever loved me like you do I'd love to see me from your point of view, yeah

[it-was-so-human]

I read you for some kind of poem - Part 2

He is not the same boy anymore. And that is fine, because she’s not the same girl. Jon and Sansa AU.

Part 1

Sansa struggled to stay seated as he entered the solar. (Her solar.)

Jon Targaryen arrived at Winterfell last night. Demanded to see his betrothed before the wedding.

She sits up straighter, tilts her chin preparing herself.

And to keep from throwing herself at him.

A lady would not do such a thing.

(And she’s never embraced him before. And he’s never held her before. Never put an arm around her filthy rags. She can still feel the layers of mud and grim and how he—no—no.)

She’s not a little bird anymore.

And then she hears his voice for the first time in over seven years. Familiar and yet not so much.

“I see that you sit on chairs now.”

And when she turns, her eyes finally land on the man that was once the young prince Jon Targaryen—with broader shoulders and darker eyes—she knows.  

He is not the same boy anymore.

And that is fine, because she’s not the same girl.

- - -

Since leaving King’s Landing, she was fostered in the homes of Northern Lords—lords still quietly loyal to the Stark name.

Sansa Stark, the surviving daughter of Eddard and Catelyn Stark.

Meant for dead, but hidden under the Targaryens’ very noses.

And anyone who remembered would gasp that the girl looks just like Lady Stark. With high cheekbones, bright blue Tully eyes, and auburn hair.

(And the North always remembers.)

And in Northern homes, some kinder than others, she was taught and trained.

Her innate delicate sensibilities no longer weakness but the tools to finesse herself into a great lady.

She remade herself, shaped herself under a cloak of grace and armor of control. A beauty with the strength and will of a Northerner.

A lady who never knew hunger or cold or how it felt to have nothing nothing.

But her time as a little bird taught her to watch and listen and notice. (She never had a Master of Arms or a Septa, but she had her ability to pay attention to the world.)

And now she is a lady who knows their Northern ways and their pride and their culture, knows how they think, and has learned to give council, earning their respect and even admiration.

If she was to be used, she would make the best of it. She could hand out food to the children, make sure the women were properly clothed for the winter.    

And all the while there was growing tensions and anger and fear of the cruelty of the Boltons as Wardens of the North.

A desire to shed the demands of King Rhaegar showing himself to have the very same manic of his father.  

Anger over the losses and years of discontent under uneasy Targaryen peace.

Open rebellions already started in the Vale and the Reach.

The Seven Kingdoms fractioning slowly slowly.

There were talks of getting her married off to a Northern son or to try an alliance with a Southorn house.

But Verys’ plan held firm. Sansa was the banner to retake Winterfell.

And a Jon Targaryen turned Stark the key to an independent kingdom.

--

He’s in her solar now.

Her solar in Winterfell. The castle she helped reclaim. 

Perhaps he’s going to embrace her.

People don't touch her. At least not in kindly.

(Street rats don't get comforting embraces. And neither do Little birds or great ladies.

She doesn't remember ever being held. But she can imagine it. And oh how badly she wants it.

She's so alone. Even in the North among her father's former bannermen or the fierce ladies of House Mormont.

She's always different, always held apart.)

And now Jon gives her a smile—but it’s not the one she remembers

It is empty, not reaching his eyes.

“You are to be my Lady Wife?"

His tone is unkind, mocking.  

Winterfell is hers. He is the Targaryen son with just enough Stark claims to help strengthen the North.

They rally around her, not a Southron prince despite the loyal armies and ability in command he brings.

And he’s come to marry her claim. (Not her.)

“So I am brought here to marry their pawn, the wench planted in my rooms," he continues.

“I am not a pawn.”

“Then at worst you are a willing whore, at best a foolish girl. Neither speaks highly of you.”

She might be a pawn. But now she is a well-fed and cared for pawn. One with a warm bed to sleep in at night. A pawn that will be able to protect her people.

He needs her and she’s beginning to see he does not care for it, these new dynamics. It was easier for him when she had nothing and he could toss her sweets and have her do his bidding.

It’s undoubtedly harder when she’s an equal. Cannot get past the slight to his pride. Talking to a street rat turned bird turned queen.

“You do not have to marry me, your grace. But then you will lose our loyalty and the North may go against your brother.”

She sees his eyes surveying her, the length of her.

“And I am to believe you are truly the lady to this great house? Not a convenient impersonator?”

She knows she is a Stark. She feels it in her bones. Feels strength from the walls of Winterfell. Feels generations and generations of her blood in the crypts and the Weirwood tree and her people.

“The North believes,” she says her voice certain.

“The North didn’t see the skinny dirty nothing of a girl, but I did.”  

That, that hurt.

And it was easy. It was so very easy. A wave of humiliation. The familiar feelings of being less than, of being unwanted filth, creep back in so very easily.

Maybe… maybe she had hoped deep down that he would be proud of her. For being able to shed her old skin.  That he would tell her she had grown up to be pretty.

But he still saw the old little girl and she hated him for it.

She should have had… she tried so hard not to have… any expectations, no false hopes.

He may have been the dream she barely dared to hope for, but she always knew she was nothing to him.

(But the confirmation of that hurts. He was her prince, but she wasn’t anyone to him. Not really.)

In those dreams however, dreams she dare not admit to herself in the light of day, she imagined that this Sansa, this Sansa clothed in fine silk and furs and scrubbed pink and perfumed with hair elegantly plaited?

This Sansa he could love. (And she would love him back so very furiously.)

She had heard that his once betrothed was a beautiful and charming girl.

And Sansa knows that she too is now beautiful. Has a remarked on elegance and demeanor (but sometimes she still feels so small, and so alone, her life always in flux, always anticipating the next move, waiting for this, waiting for him, for the moment to unite the North so it could finally be home).

His eyes are those of a stranger now.

Not of her prince. (Though he truly never was that, was he. That was just the childish musings of a lonely little girl.)

They are the eyes of a man hardened by loss. A man who went to war against his father, raised arms against his family name.

But he had no right to be cruel.

“I am Sansa Stark. I am the Lady of Winterfell. I do not need you to believe it for it to be true.”

(It is a bit of a bluff. She needs him too. Needs the validation his armies will bring. And the North needs him to secure their independence.)

“And to win Winterfell I need to marry the woman who has lied to me for years?”

I cannot have lied about something I did not know.

“Marriages have had worse foundations,” she manages to shrug.

She could be mistaken, but a small smile plays at the corner of his lips.

“Aye, that is true. Is this marriage alliance suitable to you then?” 

She give him only a nod and he walks out of the room.

And she reminds herself he doesn’t have to love her. He does not have to care.

(Her father was brave and honorable. Her mother elegant and fiercely loyal. Sansa can be all these things.

She has to be, she has to. This the legacy left to her.)

((Sansa never imagined having a legacy. She promises to be worthy of it.))

She had been so very ashamed for wanting him when he wasn’t for her—but he was and yet it still hurt.

The romantic songs weren’t written for her however. This much was true. Not even in pretty dresses could change that.  

But even Prince Aemon the Dragonknight wasn’t able to save Queen Naerys from dying with a broken heart.

- - -

She was married and cloaked.

And tonight her husband, her prince. No. A stranger enters her chamber

She stands tall.

She is not scared. She is strong. She is the Queen in the North.

A she-wolf.

Her new husband’s eyes are blazing when he enters, but she holds his gaze. Does not look away.

She steels herself.

Jon Stark wearing the fur cloak she made for him herself, the Stark sigil she carefully crafted for her old friend and future husband.

His eyes survey the room, and land on her dressing table. She reddens when she realizes what he’s looking at.

She forgot to hide her doll.

The most beautiful doll in the world still lovingly kept. Her dress cleaned and mended by her own hand over the years.

(She had kept it near for strength, had meant to put it away. Hadn’t felt strong enough to just yet.)  

He is in front of her now.

She prepares herself.

And watches as he drops to his knees.

Jon Stark is shaking. She rests a tentative hand on his shoulder.

He grabs the hand and brings it to his lips. Presses a kiss. And then another.

“You’re safe. Thank gods you’re safe.’

Her breath catches.

He stands now, still holding her hand. His thumb is stroking it and it feels, it feels like being found.  

“I never protected you. I never… I let you leave—”

He reaches a hand into his vest and pulls out a scarp of fabric, handing it to her.

It’s frayed on the edges, softened with age and folds, but she would recognize it anywhere.

The embroidered direwolf. She gave it to him years ago, not knowing it would one day become his sigil. Theirs.

He… kept it. He kept it.

“I thought you forgot me,” she whispers, half to herself.

His voice is hoarse.

“No, never… When I was a young boy I dreamed of being the knight who saved you. I would ride into Flea Bottom and whisk you away. But I never did. Never did anything.”

He swallows, a brave warrior with a catch in his throat.

“When you were gone… I kept wondering if you were warm, or well fed, or cared for, kept from harm. But I realized those were never thing I guaranteed while you were with me.”

"I never expected you to," she manages.  

His hands cup her face—as if she is precious and beloved.

“But you should have. I was…so angry when I learned…thought of how you manipulated me for years. But even still I could not stay away. When I was given the choice of this marriage alliance, I could not refuse…”

No. “I have never lied to you. I thought of you as... my friend.”  

“I know. I know that now. And if you were a pawn Sansa, I was as much of one and more. A willing one.”

His fingers graze her cheek. “But I promise to be a good and true husband. Your closest friend. I will protect you, our house, and the North.”

“And I will too.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

The smile Jon gives her is achingly familiar. It tugs at her heart and she finds herself slowly returning it.

“You were a lovely girl but gods I never dreamed you would grow up to be so very strong and beautiful and... mine.” 

He rests his forehead against hers, and her senses are overwhelmed by the very feeling of him. It feels lovely. 

“I did not come here to marry Sansa of the House Stark. I came to marry you.”

-

Also on Ao3

-

Meh. Mehhh. 

[overdrivels]

Forge

For years after he has been on the run, Genji has always maintained his own sword, Ryuuichimonji. It was his greatest treasure—carefully crafted by the greatest swordsmith in Hanamura for his twentieth birthday. It was made specially to focus the power of the dragons, the material was intended to withstand fierce battles and harsh weather.

 Though, as with all things, it isn’t able to withstand the stress of time. After a harrowing mission and the usual deflection technique, a stray bullet managed to catch the very edge of his sword to take off a piece with it. To the others, it’s a chip no bigger than the width of a needle’s eye, but to Genji, it may as well had been a chasm.

 He mulls over it for hours and hours—if he sharpens the sword, the entire edge will be cut back and that could cost him his life (or others) if he makes a mistake in judging distance. If he keeps going as is, the chip could catch on something and it could break. His options were few, and he has missions coming up. Torbjörn had offered to fix a little too eagerly, but Genji easily deflected the offer—there were other swords he could use, no need to mind this one.

 Even though that’s what he said, whenever Genji looks at his sword and sees the crack, his heart aches just a little. The glow is weaker than usual, and even though swords are not alive, it just seems so sad and defeated. It doesn’t take long for him to give in.

When Genji attempts to contact the smith, he gets a message from the smithery that the person he is trying to contact has long passed and has been succeeded by one of his disciples. When he reads the name, he hadn’t expected to know it. As a Shimada heir, there were many people who has passed him by, often just once with no reason to remember them. However, he remembers why he recognizes the name, and cringes so hard that he can feel his face cramp.

The message continues and says that his request to service a damage sword will be accepted, and to please negotiate the appointment as soon as possible. It takes him several days before he comes to term with the fact that the swordsmith is dead and not repairing the sword is not an option, and another one to accept the fact that he should probably suck it up and just go. That’s how, nearly a week later, with some encouragement from Zenyatta, he finds himself back at Hanamura, getting led around the old smithery by an apprentice swordsmith he does not recognize.

 The spacious property, surrounded by wooden fences, contains the main house which seems more like a dojo or a low key temple and looks exactly as it did nearly over a decade ago. He could see the smoke billowing from behind the large house—the forges. Inside, the same calligraphy scrolls that hung on the walls were maybe more impressive than he remembered, but the long, dimly lit hallways still managed to make him feel as though he were about to arrive at a boss fight.

When the doors to the main room open, Genji half expects to see the old, silver-haired man sitting near the back center of the room on his cushion, nursing a delicate cup of tea that, when offered to him and his father, he'd never drink. Instead, he sees you sitting in that same spot, on the same cushion, drinking a cup of tea and the very first thing you do is offer him a cup and a seat.

Genji's heart aches. He is torn between wanting to cry at the normalcy of it all and running away from the altered scene from the past. The press of the sword on his back reminds him of his purpose, and so he enters. When he sits on the cushion some ways before you, your apprentice politely pours him a cup and the smell--earthy with underlying floral notes that he now recognizes as a high quality sencha--slams him back to a far-off place.

He is Genji Shimada again, youngest son of the head of the Shimada clan, self-proclaimed master of the sword and shuriken, here for another tedious lesson on the mechanics of the sword, and about to refuse another cup of tea from the swordsmith who trained his father on the art.

Except you are no old man. You wear his happi across your shoulders, and your hair is touched with gray, but you are not the solemn old man who made his sword. He could barely connect you to the child behind the swordsmith. The disciple with a perpetual shadow cast over your eyes who glowered at everyone and lashed out at anyone who mentioned the limp sleeve hanging from your shoulder. But the lack of self-loathing and anger on your features makes him think that yes, time has passed, and does indeed heal all wounds. It’s a good look for you, he thinks. Unlike before.

Genji was left to practice sharpening on a fancy blade, whose importance was lost on him, under your supervision while his father and your master leave to discuss something important in the next room. You watched his sloppy technique with growing distain until you couldn't take it anymore.

"Shouldn't do that, damages the sword," you mumbled in displeasure. Genji scoffed.

"It's fine, I know what I'm doing."

He goes back to his technique of rubbing the stone too hard and too carelessly against the edge. Heat rooted itself in your chest and began to crawl up your neck and cheeks. The sound of the sword—it’s crying—grates on your ears.

"No, you don't. You're hurting it."

"Yes, I do. This is easy!"

“No, you don’t! Give it!”

You took quick strides toward him, hand outstretched to reach for the abused blade, but he was faster and sheathed it (incorrectly with too much drag that undoubtedly screws up the work he's just done even more), and kept it out of your range.

“I said, its fine! Quit nagging!”

"It is NOT! How can you say you're a master swordsman if you can't take care of one?"

“Well, how can you smith a sword if you only have one arm?! Bet you can't even hold a sword!”

Silence rung in your ears, and then they burned.

You lunged at him, screaming. You both fought like children, biting and scratching​ and hair tugging and unsophisticated blows to the face. The sword was thrown somewhere to the side, forgotten. The two of you were rolling on top of the other, trading blows and headbutts and insults.

The fight only lasts a few seconds, and was broken up by your returning master who hauled the two of you apart with his iron grip. Genji's father grabs his son by the collar even as Genji fights to escape his hold because how dare you, it’s not like he did anything wrong, he just stated the obvious. And you, face red and throat hoarse, continue to yell against your master's arm about how it’s not your fault that you lost your arm, and you don’t need pity or a new one, and you hope that he suffers the same way, too.

He cringes at the memory, and clenches both fists against his plated thighs. With how he is now, it was poetic justice, he supposed. His father did scold him and force him to apologize for the incident, though he was too young and proud to understand that he was in the wrong.

 Your disciple makes her exit, and closes the door behind her, leaving the two of you to discuss this job.

 You eye your guest carefully, and let your gaze linger on the kanji on his chest plate and bite back a laugh. Warrior God.

 "So, omnic with a sword, huh?"

Genji pulls himself back from memory lane.

  "Not quite. Cyborg. My name is…Zen. Yata, Zen.” It’s better than giving his real name while he’s in Hanamura. He’s half-tempted to use his brother’s name for laughs, but he might not make it out of here alive otherwise.

You hum thoughtfully, and put down your tea. “I see. So, Mr. Yata, I understand you would like me to service a sword of yours?”

 You hold out your hand expectantly.

 Genji removes the sword and sheath from his back for you to take. The moment it passes from his hands to yours, he feels as though you had taken the floor from underneath him as well. So frozen by the surreal sight of someone else with his sword, he does not move.

Without noticing your guest’s plight, you tuck the weapon under your armpit, and slide out the blade with a practiced ease that forces no sound. The first thing that catches your eye--it's hard not to--is that the edge is green. Glowing green like the rings on your guest. A weapon this flashy, but practical--without even checking the signature on the tang, you knew this could only be crafted by your late master. You drop the sheath next to you and smile wryly to yourself, a small burst of nostalgia goes off in your chest.

 "So an old customer of my master, huh? He must've really liked you to use this material," you murmur, eyes tracing the elegant work. The entire weapon is well polished and maintained, but also very well used. Even at a glance, you can tell that the user really cares about it.

Genji laughs a bit sheepishly and returns to his seat. The sound prods something in your brain. "Yes, I knew him for a bit. But I'm not sure about liking me."

 It always was hard to tell how the late smith really felt with his stoic face and rigid posture.

You chuckle to yourself. "Yeah, even I never knew if he liked me sometimes." You tighten your grip on the worn handle. "But then, here I am, seventh generation and his successor. Life is weird, huh?"

"You can say that again."

"Life is weird."

Again, Genji laughs. And again, a more insistent nudge at your mind comes, and you flit your eyes over at the cyborg. Something far away beckons you, something involving the way he laughs. You don't know if it infuriates you or livens you.

 But you have a job to do, and so you pull your attention back from the deep end. Whatever it is that you are on the brink of remembering can wait. You pull out a sheet for the floor and your tools, then get to work on disassembling the sword. There are moments when you see the cyborg’s hands twitch to help, but you easily rebuff that. Years of having only one arm teaches you how to manage without help.

 Genji can’t help but feel like he wants to knock the blade from your hands as you take it apart. The sheet starts to fill with organized pieces of his weapon. He clenches his fists and tries to assure himself that you are a master of your art and he shouldn’t worry. But he does for multiple reasons.

 Genji becomes more and more painfully aware this endeavor was--is—risky with every piece that comes off, and breaks out in a metaphorical sweat as he watches you scrutinize the blade. He's alert for any changes to your face, waiting for your eyes to light up in recognition, ask him where he got a sword that was custom made for the Shimada clan (even though he has long sanded away the symbol during his own maintenance), put two and two together, and announce to all of Hanamura that Genji Shimada is still alive and needs to be killed a second time because you probably still remember him as an asshole.

But he endures and you complete your assessment with the same professionalism your predecessor had shown his father. By then, the entirety of his weapon lay broken down on the floor, barely even resembling his most trusted companion.

"Based on my observations, the blade will need to be reforged, Mr. Yata," you say, putting down the last of your tools in its place. “Two weeks."

He nearly leaps to his feet. "Two—reforg—but why? Can't you just fix it?"

"This is fixing it."

 Genji goes silent. He should have expected this outcome.

 “You are sure you can do it?”

 He realizes it too late when it leaves his mouth, winces when he sees you scowl. He already has an apology on his tongue when you interrupt.

 “I assure you, Mr. Yata, I am very capable of doing so, as handicapped as I may seem.” You wave what’s remaining of your arm in the air.

 “Sorry, I did not mea-”

 “It’s fine.” You are more than used to your fair share of skepticism. “But if you’re unsure, how about you take a look through the workshop?”

 Genji blinks. The workshop?

 You grin at his silence. “Come with me.”

 The workshop behind the house is full of red, hot furnaces and students in different stages of the creation process. As soon as he steps inside, his regulators at his shoulders already begin to release and hiss steadily. He wonders how you or any of your apprentices are able to work in here with such long sleeves and thick towels wrapped around your heads. He has no doubt the flames here could melt his armor if he stayed long enough. 

You take off your happi and hang it by the door, giving Genji a better look at your missing arm that sticks out of your rolled-up sleeve. But he doesn’t get to see that for long when you open a box nearby and shove the contents onto your stub.

 “Prosthetic…?”

 You flex your newly attached metallic fingers to life and grin. “Yeah. It’s convenient. Still prefer working with my feet, but it’s bad for the students. They’ll learn it all wrong.”

Genji laughs in disbelief. Life really is strange. If he could go back in time to speak to your younger self now, he is sure that he’d get hit in the face with the stump and yelled at for thinking you’d be so weak as to give in to ‘fixing’ your disability.

 You are in the midst of tying a towel around your head when his laughter distracts you again.

“This is my son, sixth. He will be under your tutelage in the ways of the sword, much like Hanzo was.”

Your master looms over the teen, who grins just as brightly as he laughs, unperturbed by the scrutiny.

“Yo, swords-guy.”

“Don’t talk to him like that,” you snapped. Genji jumped, unaware of your presence behind the smith.

“Who are you?” At least his recovery was quick.

“My apprentice.” Your master places a hand at your shoulder. You only scowl at the boy who has shown your teacher so much disrespect upon first meeting. You mumbled out your name, but was quickly overwhelmed by Genji appearing behind you, laughing.

“Got you back. From today, I guess I’ll be learning from you guys. My name—”

“Is everything all right?”

 You blink slowly at the cyborg, who sounds as concerned as his synthetic vocal cords could. You muster a small laugh.

 “Yes, I’m fine. Thanks.” You quickly compose yourself, and start with the process of introducing Genji to the workshop in order to ease his fears for his sword. It is common for sword owners to become afraid, confused, or even downright violent when the suggestion of ‘reforging’ arises. Sometimes it’s inevitable, and it’s almost like taking someone through the process of death. You sometimes just need to show the process and break it down so it’s less frightening, less emotional.

 However, considering who your customer is this time, that might not be necessary. But a reminder never hurt.

 “Here, we do everything from making the tamagahane, the metal”—you point to the two students who slowly pour what seems like molten lava into a channel—“to the polishing of a finished sword.”

 “Master,” one of your disciples calls forlornly. “Could you appraise this?”

 He watches you take one quick look at the red-hot steel on his station and ask for the disciple to pound on it. He does so and you shake your head. “Too many impurities are still in it. Keep at it.”

 The student gives you a firm, “Yes, master!” before returning to work.  

"Crap material, no matter how good the technique, still yields crap results," you say without prompting as you begin walking away. Genji tries not to think of the heavy implications those words could contain. “We try to keep that to a minimum, but as you probably know, recently Japan’s currently going through a resource shortage—”

 He only half listens in on the explanation of the natural resource and importing situation in Japan, and how it affects your trade as his mind begins to slip somewhere unpleasant. Crap material. Crap results. A crap Shimada cast away by his crap family for his crap attitude to everything.

 “Oi.”

Genji snaps his head up, ready to apologize for getting lost in his thoughts, but sees you addressing the students manning the smelting station.

“Make sure to separate the ores properly. You’re giving the forgers too much work to do.”

 “Sorry, master!”

 “We’ll do better on the next batch.”

 “If the batch doesn’t come out right, send it over to that the arrowhead makers. They’ll know what to do with it.”

 Genji furrows his brow. “Arrowhead?”

 You shrug nonchalantly. “Sometimes the mixture for the tamagahane doesn’t come out the way we need it to. Rarely happens, but when it does, we send it off to someone else who can use it.” 

You hold up a chunk of glittery rock. "Like this. It’s crap material to us because we're concerned about making swords and the ratio of metals. But for other things, this is perfect."

 “But isn’t it too brittle for arrowheads?”

 “Someone knows their stuff!”

 You slap him on the back and instantly regret not using your metallic hand.

 "Are you all right?" He asks, torn between checking on your injury and staying distant as to not repeat the incident. You hiss and wave your hand in the air.

 “Fine, just fine. Guess something like you shouldn’t be walking around here, huh?”

 He fidgets awkwardly and realizing your mistake, you wave it off.

 “But back to the topic at hand. Material like this can be used by someone else. Arrowheads can afford to have a different level of steel because of their function.”

 You go on to animatedly explain the subtle differences and practical uses of folded steel. Genji listens and in his mind, returns to the thought that this really is a good look for you. A little bit gray and older looking, but happier.

 The rest of the tour continues on smoothly, with you demonstrating how the blade will have to be forged in excruciating detail that he’s already heard, having been here before and lectured by your predecessor. But he abstains and patiently accompanies you throughout the steaming workshop, falling into easy conversation about the logistics of sword-making. At the end of it, he has more than several dozen assurances from yourself and your students who all aim to return his sword to perfection.

 The sun begins to set when he stands at your gates, negotiations on pricing, alterations, and expected turnaround long finished.

 “So it’s agreed, then.”

 “Yes, I…trust you to take care of it.”

 You smile. “Not to worry, your sword is in good hands. But are you sure you don’t require a loaner, just in case?”

 Genji waves that off. “Do not worry. I have several others. Thank you.” He bows, and you return it politely. When he turns to leave, you do the same.

 “See you in two weeks, Genji.”

Genji whips around, but you are already swarmed by three apprentices who eagerly try to show off their latest creations. Despite it all, he laughs quietly to himself and makes himself scarce. He wonders if he should be mentally prepared to have the Shimada clan after him when he comes to pick up his sword.

[cynthiadshaw]

What’s the Most Important Lesson You’ve Learned Along Your Journey?

Every twist in our story, challenge we face, and obstacle we overcome is an important part of our story.  These difficulties make us stronger and wiser and prepare us for what’s ahead.  As we grow and succeed we may imagine that soon the challenges will fade away, but in our conversations with business owners, artists, creatives, academics, and others we have learned that the most common experience is that challenges never go away – instead they get more complex as we grow and succeed.  Our ability to to thrive therefore depends heavily on our ability to learn from our experiences and so we are asking some of the city’s best and brightest: What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned along your journey?

Carla Fonts Hrncir | Interior Designer

Be patient with your clients, be kind regardless of the situation you are in, and trust that God will take care of you—oh and always write things down!

dunbar-road.com/copy-of-instagram @dunbarroad

Josh Hicks | Master Fitness Trainer | Football Trainer

Stay Down, never give up on self, even when others doubt, it’s because they see something great about to happen. The Work will Show.

@3hunnid_fitness  @3HunnidF  3hunnidfitness.com

Merrick White | Blogger | Boy Mom | Stylist | Clothing Designer

Be yourself. No matter what anyone else is doing, just stay true to yourself and you’ll find success and true happiness. It’s a crazy competitive world out there and it’s easy to get caught up in what someone else has or is doing. My advice? Put on your blinders and go to work.

@merricksart  merricksart.com

Allen Conly | Personal Trainer | Bodybuilder and have Bachelors of Science in Exercise Science

@courtland_youneedpictures

Always do the best you can in everything you do, and always try your best to get back to, and staying in, the light! Stay positive and keep your head up!

@allenconly  @AllenConlyPersonalTrainer

Janelle Gardner | Plus Size Model-Medical receptionist

Chaz Ezidore

The biggest and most important lesson I’ve learned is that you can be beautiful at any size, any shape and form, and to always know that you are enough and will always be ENOUGH!

@janelleisenough_

Chanell James | cake baker and creative

The most important lesson I’ve learned is that timing is everything. Mixing and prepping for the next step is crucial.

@Bakedbythebayou   @bayoubakery

Alexandra Stout | Writer | Creator of the fashion & lifestyle blog, One Love By Alex

The most important lesson I have learned in my journey so far is that in order for us to best love those around us, we have to take the time to love ourselves.

onelovebyalex.com @alexvstout

TrackFingers | Self Taught Composer

The most important lesson I’ve learned in my journey is, “Leap and the net will appear.”

I’ve been teaching myself piano since I was 6. In my experience pursuing music, I did not know how all of it would unfold. The journey of the pursuit is what makes it interesting!

I’ve read that having “”faith”” is believing in things not seen. Late 2017, I made a choice to take my music seriously. Up until that point, I had been making YouTube videos on and off since 2011 but never really went for it. I practiced for hours everyday and uploaded to Instagram about 3 times a week. In the process of playing and uploading, I learned how to build an audience and brand myself. Even today, I stay up late studying great musicians so I can better myself. My page went from 444 followers on August 17′ to 10k on Oct 17′. That jump seems unreal but because of my practicing, my videos were landing on pages with 1M+ followers. On Mar. 2018, I hit 26k on Instagram and I released my first covers album on May 15th, 2018. One of my covers landed on YouTuber, “”The Theorist”” piano playlists and it skyrocketed my streams. On May 17th, 2019, I released my second covers album and with an original jazz piece included. I am currently working on more original pieces and learning jazz style piano! Everyday is a new adventure with lessons to be learned. All of these things happened the day I decided to truly go for it and not hold back! Have good intentions, put the work in, be kind to people, make the sacrifices, act with integrity and the rest will take care of itself. Just take the first step!

@trackfingers youtube.com/c/TrackFingers

Colleen Corliss | Certified Personal Trainer and Group Fitness Instructor

The most important lesson I’ve learned in my journey so far is the importance of managing your mindset: don’t stress over what you can’t control, and know that everything that happens in life puts you exactly where you’re meant to be. A positive outlook, combined with discipline and consistency, will get you far.

@colleen_corliss  @cmc.fit

Gabriel Cano | Photographer

It’s something we hear often but sometimes forget. Don’t compare yourself to other people but instead focus on improving each day and don’t be afraid to make mistakes. I go back and see some of my work from even 18 months ago and get surprised how much my practice has improved. Each mistake is a lesson learned and pushing yourself to be even a little uncomfortable is when the growth happens.

@gcanostudio

B.L. Jones | Graphic Designer | Owner | Managing Director

The journey isn’t so much about becoming anything. Its about unbecoming everything that isn’t you – so that you can be who you were meant to be. When you do good by the universe it will always find its way back unto you. So trust the process – even when it gets tough. There will be some broke and lonely seasons – use that time to reflect and adjust your strategy.

Most importantly know your worth. There will be times when you feel the need to discount your value to feel accepted – don’t. Those who appreciate your craft will do whats required to garner your services.

Love yourself and remember to stay focused on you until the focus is on you.

@QualityBrandedServices @ZaddyApparel @thebrandingking  shopforzaddy.com qualitybrandedservices.com

Ashley Cole and Darla Abshier | Co-Founders of Looie

@imagealivestudios

We began building our brand over a year ago and launched our business this month so these are exciting times for Looie and the journey is just beginning! The most important lesson we’ve learned so far is to surround yourself with people who both challenge and support you. For us, it’s a lesson deeply rooted in trust, compassion and gratitude for others and for the opportunity to give dogs their best lives!

@mylooie  @mylooieDFW  mylooie.com

Shari Burke | Weightloss & Nutrition Expert | Interior Decorator & Organizer

@braedenrogersphotography

The most important lesson I’ve learned in my fitness journey so far is you don’t need to be extreme to achieve results. It is very possible to live a balanced lifestyle while still losing weight and keeping it off. I learned this the hard way and now I have a passion for teaching other women that you can have your cake and eat it too. You’ll drive yourself crazy with extreme diets and workouts and you will be far more successful in your weight loss/fitness journey if you have a SUSTAINABLE plan to follow that works for YOUR lifestyle. No two people are the same, so you shouldn’t be following “cookie cutter” workouts and diets. Do what works for YOU. Stay consistent. And when motivation dulls, dig deep into the determination to keep you going. Life is all about feeling healthy, confident and enjoying a cookie (or two).

@shapedbyshari  @shari.burke  shapedbyshari.com  @shari.burke.902

Tw’Ice | Shag Daddy & Artist

The closest people to you out of fear of your potential will start hating on you… some journeys have to be traveled alone.

@twicewithdashagg @twicewithdashag Snapchat: Only1Twice soundcloud.com/twicewithdashag twicewithdashag@gmail.com

D. M. Holmes | Founder and Creator of The Thirty Journey

The most important lesson that I’ve learned in my journey so far is to unashamedly, undoubtedly TRUST GOD. Through submission to God I have learned to be more intuitive with self and to face obstacles head on. This in return has led to healing, growth, and an elevated mindset to impact and inspire others through everyday living and my brand, The Thirty Journey.

thethirtyjourney.co youtube.com/thethirtyjourney @thethirtyjourney @_thethirtyjourney

Michelle Lonk | Mom | PR & Marketing Consultant| Small Business Owner | Dallas Moms Blog Ambassador

@wildberryfarm

One of the most important lessons I’ve learned along my journey is be who you want to be, not who you think you should be. Truthfully, I have to actively work on this daily. There’s so much pressure to fit in, be liked, and feel like you belong. Whether in personal relationships, the workplace or online with total strangers, I felt like I was constantly trying to mold myself to what I thought others wanted depending on the situation in order to feel accepted, successful, or even happy. This only resulted in me feeling empty and lost because I had no idea who I was or what I actually wanted in life. To finally have a sense of feeling okay in my own skin and trusting my own beliefs is unbelievably freeing. The great part? It’s only the tip of the ice burg.

@dallasmom.michelle

Ashley Conneely | CEO & Founder of Squatnowwinelater.com

My most important lesson: take it day by day. And give it your best each day. But know, your best isn’t going to look the same each day! But if you show up and give it your best every day – no matter what your best for that day looks like, you’ll do just fine!

squatnowwinelater.com @squatnow.winelater

Sarah Ghias | Co -Founder & CEO, Sweet Greetings Gifts

One of the most important lessons I’ve learned in my journey so far is to have sincere intentions, and to keep renewing them along the way. The intention behind founding our business was to spread love and understanding through the age old custom of gift giving. It’s easy to get distracted though – to forget the “why” behind why we started our venture, to be pulled in by other motivators, and lose sight of our main goal. Renewing our intentions, however, keeps us grounded and true to ourselves and our business and acts as a guiding light through all difficult decisions.

sweetgreetingsgifts.com @sweetgreetinsgifts @sweetgreetinsgifts

Tyrus Dorsey | Music Producer | Audio Engineer

Keeping God first and putting the work in. Also keeping a great support system and having great energy around you. This is very important when you’re pursuing your dream. I been doing music production for over 10 years and i have had my ups and downs, One thing I know is that hard work pays off. Having a great work ethic and consistency will go a long way. I’m just thankful to God for blessing me with the gift of music and creativity.

“Always follow your passion and God will make a way for your gift to blossom and touch others.”

tdmusicstudios.com open.spotify.com/artist/0aAjsrSnHzYGKaKjMbLxuV?si=BUZRdozIT2WorR5u2sjusg music.apple.com/us/artist/tyrus-dorsey/530596028 @td_music_studios

Ramon Rodriguez

Biggest lesson I’ve learned along this journey has to be Patience . You have to give time to let your ideas develop. Artistic inspiration is all around us. When I see something that inspires my next painting, I’ve learned to give myself time allow the creative process to take place before I begin my next piece. I choose to be authentic to who I’am and to what inspires me. Follow your gut so that the work reflects your true self. Patience has worked for me I hope it motivates others in their endeavors.

theramonart.com Ramon@TheRamonArt.com  @TheRamonArt

Carol Elizabeth Hall | Store manager | Boy Mama on a weight loss journey

The most important lesson I have learned so far in my journey is that you have to work for what you want, always stay positive during your journey and learn to love yourself no matter the outcome.

@ketolovin_carol_elizabeth_hall

LeDarrion Bonner | Owner & Creative Designer of Ben Haited Clothing & Apparel

@joblessedcultureproductions

Its hard to answer with one important lesson learned when there have been many! I’ll keep it to these two, be patient and remain consistent in your grind!

BENHAITED.com @ben_haited  @benhaited85

    Darcie and Mike Gregoire | Serial entrepreneur and CEO of Pay Forward Bookkeeping

The most important lesson I’ve learned in my journey so far is that there is no such thing as failure, just redirection to where you truly belong, so keep going to where you’re meant to be.

payforwardbookkeeping.com @pay.forward.bookkeeping @payforwardbookkeeper linkedin.com/company/pay-forward-bookkeeping

Kimberly Moore | Entrepreneur & Owner of The K Couture

The most important lesson I’ve learned on my journey has been getting out of my own way and trusting my instincts as I was taking on a new journey of becoming and entrepreneur. It took me to realize that I was making someone else’s dreams come true. I had worked for Nordstrom for 10 years and it had always been my dream to start my own retail business. After a year of getting my business plan together, I quit my job at Nordstrom and two months later The K Couture was launching.

TheKCouture.com  @thekcouture

Josie Bee | Natural Hair Specialist and Coach

The most important thing I’ve learned on my journey has been to learn and know thyself. Once I began to discover and become in tune with who I was. my real passions revealed themselves. From there I was able to pour into myself and passions to enhance the journey. Once you identify your passions, everything you do in relation will feel like bliss. No matter how many roads your journey takes you on, you will enjoy the scenery of them all, trusting and knowing you will make it to the final destination.

beenaturallychic.com  @josiebeeofficial

Kenna Denease | singer | songwriter | actress

I’ve learned that you have to always be humble and have a good attitude about every situation. And in this business you, most definitely, will always get more no’s than yes.

3blocksaway.band @kennadenease

  Kimberly Alexander | Speaker | Cancer Advocate | Host & Experience Coordinator

@Laterrasrwhitfield

The most important lesson I’ve learned in my journey so far is that life is short and you better make the most of it while you’re here. That includes appreciating the people and things that really matter, not turning down opportunities with the thought that they’ll come around again and living in the moment. I lost my husband to multiple myeloma (cancer of the bone marrow) and it forced me to put a lot of things into perspective. The most important being how will I choose to spend my days on earth moving forward. Now it’s all about finding a balance between my purpose and passion, while living unapologetically. When your world crumbles you have one of two options, crumble with it or come out swinging with determination. I definitely chose the latter and encourage others to do the same.

KimConnects.com  @TheKimAlexander @TheKimAlexander  @kimconnects

Smita Patel | Boutique Owner & Blogger

Never compare your beginning to someone else’s middle. Stay true to yourself. It’s a journey not a race.

@whatsmitafound  @fashforwatdbtq

Candus Rucker | The Real House Hunter of Dallas

The most important lesson that I have learned so far is to never give up and stay teachable with a humble heart; because God can take you a long way when your yielded and surrendered to His plan as opposed to your own.

therealhousehunterofdallas.com  @therealhousehunterofdallas  @candus.rucker @candus24

Millicent Finney |Event Planner & Lifestyle Expert

@cindiibee_

I have learned many lessons but one that resonates the most is. Don’t be afraid of your story you never know who it may inspire!

finneyevents.com

The post What’s the Most Important Lesson You’ve Learned Along Your Journey? appeared first on Voyage Dallas Magazine | Dallas City Guide.

source http://voyagedallas.com/2019/07/31/whats-important-lesson-youve-learned-along-journey-2/