#if i remember I’ll try and post these everytime anne is on it!

[aimeedaisies]

Court Circular | 7th June, 2023

St James’s Palace

The Princess Royal, Master, the Corporation of Trinity House, this morning attended the Trinitytide Anniversary Annual Court Meeting, Church Service and Luncheon, Trinity House, Tower Hill, London EC3.

The Princess Royal this afternoon attended the Canadian Armed Forces Day Reception at the High Commission of Canada in the United Kingdom, Canada House, Trafalgar Square, London SW1.

[multimilfs]

Melissa Schemmenti x Fem!Reader: What if I say I'm not like the others? 

Summary: There's a lot you know about Melissa Schemmenti, but not so much that you understand. And when insecurities bubble over into your relationship, it just might equal disaster.

A/N: I've been writing this all week and editing over the past few days. When I watched the most recent episode... I knew I had to get this posted, since it fits a little with the familial theme. But anyway Lisa Ann Walter owns my heart, please enjoy!!!

Tag List: @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @multifandomfix @escapetodreamworld

Warning(s): None

There’s a lot you know about Melissa Schemmenti. 

You know she takes her coffee with enough sugar to be illegal and her liquor neat and how she melts when she hears the kids call her ‘Miss Schemmenti’ even after years of teaching. You know her favorite meal is Veal Siciliana from Scanicchios, but how she’ll never set foot in the restaurant after Joe used it to propose their divorce. 

You know she’s not a hard woman to learn, but she can be impossible to understand. 

So when the door to her cousin Annette’s house opens and Melissa’s face loses a shade of warmth, you know she’s putting on an act, but you don’t know why; Besides her blackmailer of a sister, Annette has always been the one she’s fondest of. 

“There she is!” Annette exclaims, grabbing you in a bone-crushing hug like she didn’t threaten you over the dinner table at last week's family dinner, “Mel didn’t know if you’d be able to make it.” 

“Good to see you too, Annette.” Melissa deadpans. 

You shoot Melissa a look, “I wouldn’t miss dinner for anything.” 

“Good, good. Come inside before the food gets cold.” 

You’re ushered into the house and surrounded in the typical chaos of the Schemmenti family. Annette takes the branzino from your hands and whisks it away to the kitchen. Uncle Anthony and his wife Lorraine are at the dining table, halfway through a bottle of wine, laughing at something one of the surrounding cousins said. 

Against the wall behind them Uncle Tomas watches the room with a keen eye. He’s arguably the most intense of her family members. The first time you’d met the man, Melissa had introduced him as Stickman; the man was a lawyer, you learned, and a damn good one. He was well connected and could get anything to stick if it’d help his case. That evening, when Melissa was distracted, he assured you he’d do the same to you if you hurt his niece. You had steered clear of him for a while after that. 

Annette’s husband Nico comes around the corner, doing his Greek roots proud as he enthusiastically kisses both of your cheeks. Annette scowls, but she’s long since given up on trying to break him of the habit—after 10 years there isn’t much she can do. 

Bundled up in his arms is their daughter Sophia. Everytime you remember how tiny she used to be compared to now, tears spring to your eyes. 

“There’s my favorite girl,” You coo, taking her out of Nico’s arms, “I missed you so much. Have you been behaving for your parents?” 

She stares up in adoration while Annette and Nico smile. Melissa hangs back, hands stuffed in her pockets as she takes in the room. You try to catch her eyes, but she’s determined to look anywhere else. 

“She’s been a nightmare this week. First she was sick and then when she was better, she’d refuse to sleep,” Annette throws her hands up, “I can’t figure it out.” 

“You think she’d want a break from you two.” Melissa says. 

Her cousin glares, delivering a harsh punch to her arm. The barely-there grin that was on Melissa’s mouth falls and she stiffens, puffing up, pulling her arm back to deliver an undoubtedly worse blow. You place your hand on her arm and step between them. 

It clearly ruffles her feathers that you’re stepping in, but she says nothing. Her arm drops and she levels a glare at Annette instead. You bounce Sophia, sharing a look with Nico. 

“Sweetheart, how close are we to eating? Would you like help setting the table?” Nico asks. 

“You sit down, I’ll help her out,” Melissa interrupts, pressing a kiss to your cheek and brushing past you. 

You blink and she’s moving towards the kitchen, shoving Annette ahead. A pointed stare burns into your face as you focus on the baby in your arms. Her original eager face has turned sleepy the longer you bounce her. Moving her to your other arm, you make the mistake of locking eyes with Nico. 

“It isn’t my business…” 

“We’re fine, Nico. She’s just had a long week.” 

It’s a simple enough answer and it’s a true one. Melissa has been overwhelmed. You choose not to mention that the only time her behavior changes is inside this house. She may love her family and value them to no end, but lately she hasn’t been acting like herself around them, and you feel yourself being pushed away for a few hours every week. 

You don’t talk about it—why would you? The second you’re back in the car, everything is normal. It doesn’t affect your relationship. All you want is to understand why it’s happening. 

“Seems she’s having many of those.” 

Glaring at Nico is second nature. He doesn’t apologize, only shrugging as if to say I’m only speaking the truth. Luckily, he drops the conversation, and you stand in mostly-comfortable silence watching Melissa and Annette move around from afar.  

—

“So, have you found a ring yet?” 

“Knock it off already,” Melissa growls, staring into the simmering sauce on the stove, “I’ve said all I needed to about that.” 

“You didn’t say much, actually.” 

“She doesn't want to marry me, Annette.” 

“How would you know if you haven’t asked her?” 

The murmur of voices from the dining and living rooms filter in. Melissa looks up and watches you, Sophia bouncing in your arms while her Aunts, Uncles, and cousins pull you snugly into their conversations. Her eyes are pained. 

She wants to commit the scene to memory, discreetly pull out her phone and snap a picture of the room so it won’t fade away. It had never been like this before. No matter how much Joe meant to her, members of her family had never warmed to him, and he’d remained firmly on the outside. 

Now you stand holding the youngest Schemmenti in her cousin’s home, laughing and talking easily with family members who’d have sooner taken Joe out than let him share their table. 

“I just—I know, alright? I’m not going to tie her down.” 

“Look at me,” Annette demands and Melissa does, “That girl wouldn’t be here if she didn’t want to be tied down. Now either you make her a Schemmenti or stop stringing her along.” 

“That isn’t what I’m doing.” 

“Okay, Mel.” 

It’s a bad sign that Annette has stopped fighting; whatever Melissa says, she is firmly wrong on this, and her cousin has proved her point. Her stomach turns. She isn’t against marrying again, despite what everyone thinks. 

It’s just complicated. 

The two cousins put the finishing touches on dinner in silence; Melissa mulling over her thoughts and Annette brooding beside her. They make quite the pair with their fiery locks and matching frowns, but they make one hell of a meal. 

Every now and again Melissa will glance your way. The baby never once leaves your grasp but you move around the room with her. Her cousin Lisa coos at the sleeping girl between bouts of conversation with you, making Melissa smile. She knows you’d bring Sophia home with you if you ever got the chance. And though it pains her to think about the lost sleep and headaches, she wouldn’t mind. 

Their lavish spread is set on the table—and any flat surface, really—when Melissa makes her way back to you. She’s lost her appetite for the time being, craving only your closeness, which shouldn’t relieve her as much as it does. But when she grabs two chairs, Great Aunt Katherine flags you down first and insists that you sit to her right tonight. 

Offering a sheepish smile, you steal a quick kiss, “I’m sorry, honey. We’ll share dessert?” 

“Sure.” Melissa nods.

Uncle Tomas takes up the seat saved at Melissa’s side, raising an eyebrow at the lack of a plate. You shoot concerned glances from the other end of the table. Ignoring both, Melissa shoves her hands back in her pockets, leaning back to observe the room. 

No one tries to bother her for once. She’s free to brood and take in the room on her own time, zoning in and out when her thoughts pull her in. 

The sound of Sophia crying breaks her focus. 

Everyone around the table looks at you as you murmur, rubbing her back and rocking. Annette is the first to move and grab a bottle. It’s rare that Sophia cries with you, almost like you’re her personal Xanax, but not even you are a balm for an empty stomach. 

Flustered, you send Melissa a pleading look over the baby’s head. She’s up in an instant and taking the now-warm bottle from her cousin. Nodding her head to the hallway where the nursery is, she rubs a hand down your back as you pass, turning towards her family. 

“Might help to get away from all your loud mouths.” Melissa throws behind her. 

A few choice comments are thrown after her but she ignores them, making a beeline for the nursery. She can still hear you and Sophia from outside as she slips in and closes the door. Holding out the bottle, she wraps her free arm around you. 

“Thank you,” It’s a bit of a hassle to get Sophia latched onto the bottle, but eventually she deems it good enough, and her whines stop. You let out a long breath,“I was a little on-edge having everyone stare at me.” 

Melissa’s lips press a kiss to your temple, saying I got you. You lean into her and smile as you imagine how the scene must look. You wonder if Melissa thinks of it as fondly as you do. She’s never said much on the subject of kids, but sometimes you think she feels like she’s missing out. 

Turning your neck to look at her, you stiffen at the brief pain you can see on her face, and drop the whole idea. If she wanted this, she’d tell you… right? 

“What’s going on, Melissa?” You ask softly still.

“Nothin’, sweetheart.” She smiles, “Just a little tired, that’s all.” 

You know by the way her smile doesn’t reach her eyes that she’s lying. 

Instead of calling her on it, you nod, and lean up to steal a kiss. It doesn’t feel the way it usually does and you try to brush it off; once we’re out of the house, you think, it’ll be normal again. 

But when you leave that night with arms full of tupperware, it doesn’t go back to normal. Melissa is too quiet and reserved and god, she won’t even touch you. She drives home with both hands firmly on the wheel. 

The music is on but you refuse to hear any of the lyrics and when you recognize the street you’re on, something in you goes cold. You stare blankly at houses that pass and try to will away the feeling of impending doom. 

“Where are we going?” You ask and it doesn’t sound like you. 

“I’m taking you home.” 

Something snaps then. You don’t know why, or what triggers it, but you whip your head to face her. Home, she says, like you don’t have space reserved in her closet. Home, like you don’t know her kitchen better than your own anymore. 

“Pull over.” 

Her eyes widen, “What? Are you insane?” 

“Melissa Schemmenti, pull the damn car over!” 

Your voice is too loud in the car and you hate the way it cracks, but she listens. Try as you might, the dam of tears is starting to overflow as she stops a few blocks from your place. It takes everything in you to look at her. 

When you see the look on her face and the tears in her own eyes, you know. 

You know, but you ask anyway, “What is going on?” 

Melissa opens her mouth, then closes it, swallowing hard. She closes her eyes and shakes her head before looking back at you. Her own tears are gone and you hate her for shoving her feelings down. You hate her for making this easier on herself when it’s so hard for you. 

“I realized that I… I’ve been giving you the wrong idea. About this, us.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Look, you’re the date-to-marry type, you know? But you need to know you’ve got options. I want you to know that and—and you don’t need to feel like you should tie yourself down just because we’ve been together a while.” 

She’s grasping at straws. You know that, she knows that, but back to the same old story—you don’t know why. 

“Is this—are you breaking up with me?” You whisper.

“Annette said—“

“Annette told you to do this?” 

“No! Sweetheart, I just mean that I want you to know you have options. You’re beautiful and anyone would be lucky to have you.” 

“Don’t pretend you’re doing this for me. I am—I was happy.” Your throat is closing up, words choking you, “I’m going to go. Call me when you’re done being an idiot.” 

Her usual Italian fury is buried under heartache. When you get out of the car and slam the door behind you, she just watches and follows—at a distance—to make sure you get home safe. She doesn’t get out. She doesn’t yell or run after you. As soon as she knows you’re safe, she drives home, focused more on the tears that’d poured from your eyes than the insult from your lips. 

——

When Annette flings open the door a week later, her smile falters seeing Melissa by herself. She looks up and down the block to see if maybe you’re trailing behind. 

“Where is she?” Annette asks. Seeing the look on Melissa’s face, she’s flooded with rage, “What did you do?” 

“I stopped stringing her along, like you said.” 

Melissa doesn’t sound like herself, though she’s trying hard to. She doesn’t look like herself either. Her eyes are puffy and her makeup is smeared. 

“You idiot!” 

And Annette is flying at her, screaming in Italian and throwing her hands around a little too close to Melissa for her liking. It’s a good sign she hasn’t taken her earrings out. Annette is speaking so fast she can hardly understand and at some point she starts yelling back. Melissa does take out her earrings. They’re shoved in her pocket and she’s winding up when the door opens and Uncle Tomas steps onto the porch, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Annette. Inside.” He says in a tone that leaves no room for argument. 

She huffs, but moves. Melissa makes an effort to follow and slip inside but her Uncle steps in front of the door after Annette’s gone. She meets his eyes and mirrors his position, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Stickman.” She nods. 

“What are you doing, kid?” 

“Trying to come over for family dinner. That a crime now?” 

“You know that’s not what I mean.” 

Stickman has seen her at her boldest, even her dumbest, but she still withers when he stares at her long enough. She hates that her desire to fight back vanishes. No one should have that power over her, but she doesn’t fight, not when it comes to him. She respects him too much to spit in his face like that. 

“It wasn’t going to work. She has a world of opportunity still, but me? I’m set where I am. Why keep her from the opportunities she has?” Melissa shrugs. 

He shakes his head, “Kid, you know why I never liked Joe?” 

“Because he wasn’t Italian.” 

“No,” He laughs, “because he was a good guy, but he wasn’t good enough. Not for you. Of course, he loved you, so we let him stick around—but he wasn’t family. Family you kill for. Joe loved you, but he wouldn’t have killed for you.” 

“And you think she would?” Melissa asked quietly. 

“Yeah, I do.” 

Melissa had never thought about you as the violent type. You were always keeping her out of trouble, stopping her from getting into fights, stepping in between her and whoever had pissed her off… but maybe it wasn’t like that. She remembers how you glare when you step in and it dawns on her; maybe you weren’t holding her back… maybe you were trying to take on the fight yourself. 

She had grown used to biting her tongue and taking a step back while Joe talked his way out of scuffles, all charming smiles and charisma. In a few minutes he’d undo all of Melissa’s damage and deal it back to her. The humiliation hurt more than any punch. But this—this steals the breath from Melissa’s lungs, her chest feeling like too-small tupperware for her heart. 

“What does that have to do with her future?” Melissa asks. 

“She knows you, kid. And she knows herself. Yeah, she’s got opportunities, but an opportunity doesn’t equal happiness. Let her choose what makes her happy instead of trying to choose for her.” 

She nods. A harsh hand is rubbed over her face. 

“I’ve really messed it up, huh?” 

Tomas unfolds his arms and places his hands on her shoulders, looking her in the eye. She tries to ignore the feeling of being a little girl again after her first bad fight with her Mom, trying and failing not to cry about just how unfair it is that nobody paid attention beyond yelling at her. She never understood how he had all the answers. Even now, she still doesn’t. 

“If you got yourself into it, you can get yourself out of it.” He says. 

Melissa breaks more traffic laws than she can count on her way to your place, but she doesn’t get caught, so she figures it's worth it. But when she steps onto your porch, she’s filled with apprehension. Hurting someone is so much easier than making them feel better. 

A soft curse leaves her lips and she forces herself to knock on the door. When you open it and stand in the doorway with arms crossed over your chest, she grimaces in place of a smile. 

You’ve definitely seen better days, but you’ve at least tried to hold it together. Your eyes are red, but your makeup is impeccable. The pain in your eyes doesn’t go away and her chest aches; she put it there, she knows, and kicks herself for it. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” Melissa says lamely. 

Glaring, you raise an eyebrow, “Done being an idiot?” 

“Yeah, yeah I am,” Her smile is pained and she’s rocking back and forth on her feet, but she’s trying, “I’m sorry for how I acted.” 

“What was going through your head?” 

A sigh escapes Melissa’s lips and her breathing is shaky. You want to reach out and comfort her, but hold yourself back. You deserve to know why last week happened, why you were miserable when things had been going so well. 

“When Joe suggested we get a divorce, he said he thought we were ‘holding each other back,’” Melissa says, trying to laugh even though her eyes are glassy, “but I… I’d been so content with him, with everything. I guess I thought that if I was happy, it meant I was holding you back too.”

A tear falls from her eye and you step forward, wiping the tear away. You put your hands on either side of her face and smile a watery smile. 

“How could you hold me back? Loving you is the greatest opportunity I’ve ever had.” You whisper. 

For the first time since knowing her, Melissa looks small. She looks at you with teary eyes like she can’t believe a word coming out of your mouth. Under all the bravado she’s just as sensitive as anyone and for a minute you forgot that.

You know so much about her that sometimes it makes your head hurt; how she loves the smell of cigarettes because everyone around her smoked as a child, how the first woman she dated was the same one that repoed her car, and how under everything she was a just that scared little girl who wanted to be loved. The rough and tumble kid turned into a resourceful woman, but her wounds never left, and now they were staring you in the face. 

“I’m not Joe, okay?” You say, after stealing a quick kiss, “You’re not a pit stop for me, you’re the destination.”

“God, you sound like Janine.” 

Melissa shakes her head, but she’s smiling all the same, looking at you like she does after those sappy romance movies she pretends not to like. And she pushes forward and kisses you, holding onto you with a tight grip and kissing you like she’s worried it’ll never happen again, as if it’s the last time, and she’s making excuses to keep you with her for a few more minutes. 

It makes your head spin how your anger just… dissolves. A week of hearing nothing from Melissa had been devastating, only to slowly morph into an ugly anger that you let fuel you, and now it’s gone. You’re wrapped up in Melissa Schemmenti and all too happy to forget the way you wanted to slash her tires two hours ago. 

“Honey?” Melissa says. 

You blink and look at her, her head tilted to the side, eyes looking you over. She must have said your name a few times. 

You’re dying to kiss her again just as much as you’re itching to scream at her. When did you let yourself become so head over heels for this woman? It grips at you and you want to grab her, telling her that she’s the most infuriating person you know and that you never want anyone else. 

“If you ever do that to me again I’ll take a crowbar to your car windows.” Comes out instead and your own eyes widen as she laughs. 

“Noted,” Melissa grins, “Now, will you come to dinner? Annette nearly killed me when she didn’t see you.” 

“Would have served you right.” You huff, but throw your shoes on and grab your keys, joining her on the porch. 

Her hands settle on your hips as you’re locking the door and you pause—interesting way to get me to family dinner, you think. When her lips press kisses to your neck, you let it happen. What is one missed dinner? You love Annette and the family, but none of them are Melissa and her skilled mouth.

All of it stops the second you lean back against her. 

“Still got it.” Melissa murmurs. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Schemmenti.” 

“I’m from South Philly, gorgeous, danger is second nature.” She pats your hip and steps back, “But I’ll make it up to you later.” 

“Maybe I’ll get revenge on you first.” 

Her eyebrow lifts in time with the corner of her mouth. She nods once, saying nothing as you finish locking the door and walks you to the car, opening the passenger door to steal a kiss before shutting it. 

And this time when Annette opens the front door, she smiles, and Melissa’s earrings stay in. You’re pulled into a hug so tight you question how much Annette’s been holding back; her threats hold a little more weight now. 

Nico greets you with the customary kiss on your cheek and passes Sophia to you without prompting. She’s half asleep, but still finds the energy to curl a little hand in your shirt. 

Stepping inside with a nervous smile, you’re greeted with nods and an overjoyed Cousin Rocco, “Finally! Annette said you two ran into some trouble, you get it taken care of?” 

The last part is aimed at Melissa, who nods. Rocco crosses himself and mutters a quick prayer in Italian. Tomas is the only one who looks at you like he knows and you wonder how much he got his niece to spill. But he looks behind you, where Melissa’s standing, and nods his head towards the back porch. 

A hand slides over your hip and warm breath moves over your ear as she passes, muttering, “Be right back.” 

You’re pulled into the kitchen in her place, Annette dancing around and putting what little mobility you have to help set the food up. Both of you freeze for an instant when she jostles you and Sophia whimpers, your eyes locking with Annette’s in horror. She settles in the same beat. From then on, Annette takes care when moving around you. 

Melissa catches the interaction through the back door and grins when you meet her eyes, a sheepish smile on your face. 

It feels like only a moment and the table is being set, but Melissa and Uncle Tomas are still out on the back porch. Both are facing away from you with Tomas surrounded by smoke and motioning with his hands in a way that reminds you of the redhead. She’s nodding along with whatever he’s saying, throwing her head back in a full-body laugh. 

Tomas stubs out his cigar when you knock on the window and motion them inside. He says something you can’t read on his lips, but it makes Melissa shake her head. Her eyes meet yours and you’re overwhelmed by the emotion in them. 

“Good talk?” You ask. 

“I’d say so,” Tomas nods, closing the door as soon as Melissa steps inside, “Hardly a dull moment with that one.” 

“Back at ya, Stickman.” 

The man weaves his way through the throng of Schemmenti’s to pack a plate. You and Melissa stay by the door, watching the chaos unfold. When you lean into her, you sneak a kiss to the corner of her mouth. Her lips twitch. 

“You look good with a kid in your arms.” 

Blinking, you say slowly, “Thank you.” 

“Anytime, honey.” 

When she smiles, there’s a twinkle in her eye. And once again you find yourself trying to understand why she’s looking at you the way she is. You find yourself not minding so much though—Maybe there’s nothing wrong with being a little oblivious. 

There’s a lot you know about Melissa Schemmenti. How she smiles and softens her voice in the presence of kids, how she can only listen to jazz when she cooks, and how she loves getting her hands dirty. You look forward to understanding her one day, too. 

[universalistotalis]

Too Far

Angst!!!

Atsumu Miya x Female Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Loving Atsumu Miya was absolute bliss. You loved every second of his affection, his skin, his warmth, his laugh, and his jokes. That giant bastard may be a crackhead to his friends and family, but with you, his affectionate side just pops out of nowhere. His eyes filled with love when he looks at you. His arms opened so wide to envelope you in an embrace so tight, your feet lift up the floor with ease. His words laced with care and love with a hint of playfulness at the side and they never failed to make your insides scramble everytime.

You shake your head from the daydream that you’ve consistently been having since the start of the relationship.

God, you loved him so much, didn’t you? You gave your whole world to the man of your dreams. You sacrificed time, effort, patience, you name it, just to have one second by his side.

And because of that love, you became an absolute fool.

Who were you kidding, right? THE Great Atsumu Miya will never settle. Who were you to tame that wild beast? How special did you think you were when he had a sea of people under his spell, his command?

Just face it, you’re nothing to him.

And so you did. You left your shared apartment after waiting for him to come home for the nth time. Who knows where he was, who he’s with, what he’s doing. You were done thinking of an imaginary Atsumu who will love you wholeheartedly. That’s just not going to happen.

After many sobs and insecurities flooding in, you were ready to face the world again. Even more ready to face Atsumu. He’s nothing to you now. There were no grudges held in your heart. There were no tears in yours eyes. But more importantly, there was new love formed in your chest and that’s reserved for the most important person in your life. You.

“Damn, y/n!!! What happened to you?!” One of your friends cheered as you met to go to a club on a Friday night. Work was pretty hectic lately and you all agreed to a well- deserved night out.

“No kidding, you’re literally glowing!!!” Another hyped and slapped your ass playfully as you walked through the doors. “Let’s get wasted tonight!!!”

And my god, your whole group did. You all danced to your heart’s content, ordered liquor until your head got rid of all inhibitions, laughed at each other’s faces and jokes… overall, it was a night to remember.

“Y/n?” You heard a voice behind you followed by your right wrist being cased within the hands of another.

You were just on the verge of getting sober so you wonder if the image right in front of your eyes was real or not. He used to stand with his chest puffed out in confidence but now, he looked deflated. Under his eyes were dark circles, proof of him not sleeping well. His usual playful demeanor was gone and the man in front of you now looked so lost, confused… lonely.

“Atsumu?” You squinted, not believing the sight in front of you.

“It really is you.” He slurred and you had a whiff of liquor on his breath. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been doing great, Miya. Thanks.” You smiled, genuinely.

“Where’s my sweet nickname?” He joked. “You look so damn happy celebratin’ with yer friends tonight, huh? That happy to be rid of me, ain’t ya?” He chuckled darkly.

You were taken aback with what he said. What does he have to do with you having a great party?

“Miya, don’t do this right now. I have to go.” You tried to excuse yourself from his intrusion.

“I hate it. I hate it so goddamn much.” He whispered, closing the distance between you two and caged you on the wall behind. “I’ve been a mess since ya left, sweetheart. Seeing you having the time of your life makes me feel so damn angry. Am I that easy to forget?”

“Atsumu, I—“

“Come back to me.” He puffed. “Come back to me and I promise to treat ya right. I’ll do everythin’ ya want, just please… I love you.” His voice faltered at the end as whimpers of his cries followed. Never in your whole life did you think you’d see him break down because of you. But here he is! AND you never thought of hearing those three words with utmost sincerity from his lips. But again, here he is!

A nostalgic smile lifted from your lips and Atsumu stared at it for a while. The alcohol in his system was enough to make himself go haywire but your smile sent him spiraling. He meant what he said. He missed you to death. He needed you back.

“Come back to me, please.” He repeated and leaned his forehead on yours.

“I’m sorry, Miya.” You said as you held his face in your hands. “Thank you for being honest with me. But it’s too late. I’ve moved on from everything and you should too.”

His head violently shook no as more tears spilled from his eyes. He’ll do everything for you except let you go. “I’ll be better. Please, I’ll be better! I’ll try my best to keep ya, baby, that’s how much I love you! I can’t—“

“Then try your best with the next person because it won’t be me, Miya. I hope you understand.” You said while wiping his tears. “That relationship was too toxic for me and I can’t go back.”

“I’m sorry.” He said, voice too slow and too low to even hear but you did. “I’m so sorry.”

“Atsumu! You prick!” Your head whipped to the left at the familiar voice that boomed. Osamu barreled over to where you were but his steps slowed as he saw your figure caged inside Atsumu’s arms.

“Y/n.” He said, as if in a daze.

“Hi Osamu.” You greeted awkwardly since Atsumu’s stare is still hard and focused on your face. The alcohol seemed to have a toll on him and he was beginning to doze off. Either that, or he still did not process what you’ve been saying.

“Stop it, man.” Osamu came behind his twin and caught him by the collar. He turned to you next while carrying a limp Atsumu in his embrace. “I’m sorry for his behavior. He drinks more than he can take. He’s been out of it since… you know… your break up.”

You smiled sadly. “Oh.” Well, what were you supposed to say to that?

“Y/n!!! Come back here!” One of your friends saw you and waved you to the table.

“That’s my cue to go.” You smiled.

“Yeah.” Osamu nodded.

“Osamu, you’re here!” Atsumu woke up from his reverie and comically hugged his brother, surprising the both of you.

“You know what? Y/n was here! I told her I love her but she didn’t believe me! Tell her! Tell her for me! Maybe she’ll believe you! Help me man, I can’t lose her!”

Your chest burned at the sight and at his words. How you longed for him to say those three words in the past. But it’s just too late.

“Stop it, Tsumu.” Osamu whispered, heart aching for his twin. He saw how broken he was these past few months but then it was his fault after all. He shot you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry for this again. Take care, Y/n.”

“Take care too, Osamu.” You smiled. “Take care of him too.”

“I will.” He agreed then proceeded to take Atsumu to their table.

“It hurts, Samu.” Sudden whimpers came out from Atsumu’s mouth after a few steps. “It fucking hurts. I don’t think I can take this.”

“Imagine how she felt, you bastard.” Osamu sighed. “She really was a keeper, wasn’t she?”

Atsumu hummed in agreement. “She was. She still is.”

“Look, she’s gone, Tsumu. You need to move the fuck on and stop tormenting the poor girl! You’ve caused her enough pain.” Atsumu then was dumped harshly on the cushions.

“You don’t know what you have until it’s gone.” The saying rang in Atsumu’s ears, echoing louder and louder as the music in the club intensified throughout the night. It mocked him to the core! He drank himself to oblivion for months now, trying to forget your presence in his life. Visions of you were everywhere! You were in his room tucking him to bed. You were in the kitchen whipping up a random recipe from the internet. You were in his living room, dancing to his playlist even when you heard the songs for the first time. You were in the stands cheering for his every move. You were even on his morning jogs, passing his water bottle to make sure he’s hydrated.

You took care of him in the best way possible and he can’t believe how involved you were with his life. How did he not see that? He didn’t realize that what he bothered himself within the past were temporary things that brought temporary bliss. You were his life, his love. How could he throw something so serious? So permanent?

He watched you from afar, drunk as fuck but visions still sharp as a hawk on your side. You were happily talking to your friends, rewarding them with your gorgeous smile and wonderful laugh. Maybe this was his punishment for ever breaking someone as pure as you.

He may be close to where you were but he can never be too close to be yours again.

Okay wait HAHAHA I love Atsumu but I wanted to write an angsty post about him so here it is! This was inspired by the song “Bedroom” by JJ Lin and Anne- Marie. I just love that song so much, I have it on repeat rn.

ALSO YOU'RE SO WORTH IT AND YOU DESERVE THE BEST! Just reminding y'all in case you forgot. <3 hope you liked this one! <3

[isatisnn]

You all were talking about how much Edgard's death will affect Mathieu and Erika, and while I believe it, I'm guessing if it wasn't intended to make Leiftan question his statment (still glad because Erika conducts were strange in NE, and little office sir reminded her of herself and her humanity).

By the end of episode Erika tells us Leiftan really looks troubled when talking about Edgard. And it really seems weird he just stares at the horizont when he can feel Erika's feelings (who Is totally simp-internal talking about how atractive she founds him, like me everytime I got up 👉👈 . Crushing on him) and knowing that back in episode 3 he already had a little affectionate reaction, trying to take Erika's hands in his. Maybe he's just so troubled that he even can't pay attention?

If that were the case, will we see an affected Leiftan thinking of Edgard and doubting his not-to-fight decision in episode 7? I really ask myself if by episode 8's end we will already have a Leiftan who's slowly back to fighting (but without His powers?). But idk.

____

There are 3 mayor reasons that could connect Edgar's death with Leiftan fighting again:

-

1. Erika's human, as Edgard. We are told humans are venerated now, but during the trip to Genkaku we all saw how bad the Li's(except Mathieu for obvious reasons) think of humans. We even whitnessed that Tenjin does seems like he really hates earth and humans (didn't he told us how boring was the building, and.. you know what he did to our office sir) but, I know Tenjin's special and hates everything, not only humans. Leiftan must have noticed that even if some peoples mind changed, eldarya's still the world that holds humanity as inferior beings (didn't we've been told on TO some people experiments with humans? I don't remember correctly, but all the Marie Anne issue didn't start as an experiment or was that a fan theory?) And as long as Erika's human, if her powers doesn't come to her rescue, she would really be on danger.

-

2. Leiftan's reasson to keep himself from fighting was to not hurt anyone. He fears and doubts his justice's sense. But by refusing to fight, perphaps... He could feel guilty of Edgar's death and believe he hurted him indirectly. He's already feeling guilty for actual murders he commits, maybe he starts questioning himself and guesses best option is to be at Erika's side and fight.

-

3, I'm not sure of this one,, but here we go: some folks in the fandom said Leiftan's adoptive family was assassinated by humans. Supossedly it's revealed on his spin off. I didn't bought back his spin off since eldarya carne back, so I'm not sure if that's real or not. Back 2 years ago, after playing sp, i thought that Leiftan told Chrome's parents were the murdered ones so idk. But if it's real it clearly would dang on him. And if humans didn't kill Verom and Nauplie, Leiftan still lost his family 2 times: There's no way there's not trauma. And he could see Erika's as the closest person to a family for him. (So all this point could've been part of the 1, Haha, sorry)

_____

Anyway, sorry for my horrible english. I'll leave a meme to ease the effort you all made while reading me 👉👈✨

...

Meme's base credits to Memera Derecho's folks ✨ I' ll leave the base they provided me here (lemme edit this post in a few hours when I get home)

[hwrryscherry]

The one where Harry and Model Y/N miss their christmas flight and have a little fun on their detour.

blurb: It's the most wonderful time of the year so Harry & Model Y/ N rented a holiday house on the French Alps to celebrate Christmas with their families. It's finally the day to go and Harry is the one to blame when they lose their flight to meet their families in the Alps. Spoiler: Model Y/N gets furious at Harry's calm behavior.

warnings: fluff. They left Los Angeles on December 20th and arrived in the Alps on December 21st in case you guyst get confused.

word count: 7.1K

author's note: HIIIIIII guyyys! It's officially CHRISTMAS week and it's my favorite holiday ever sooo I imagined what Model Y/N and Harry would do on their holiday trip and I guess I'll post a blurb everyday with Christmas theme. AND i'll be suggesting a christmas song in every blurb. Enjoy and Merry Christmas♥️♥️♥️♥️

christmas song of the day: Santa Tell Me by Ariana Grande.

December 19th, 2020 - 11PM

    It was a very cold night in Los Angeles for you to be walking around in your pajamas with no shoes on, a face mask on your face and wet hair that left small water drops through the closet floor as you continued to walk between your clothes and your suitcase that was settled in the floor. You wanted to be laid down in bed, in your cozy and warm bed because you were so tired and a good night of sleep were everything you actually desired.

    As you tried to decide on the coats that you were going to take to your Christmas holiday in the French Alps. You felt a gaze directed to you, what made you bring your head up so you could see Harry stopped at the door frame. He looked very calm. Otherwise, you looked desperate; your flight was scheduled to 6:45 AM. You had to sleep as it was already late and you haven't even packed your stuff but at least you could do it with just some minutes unlike Harry. Anyway, Harry had his grey sweatpants on with a TPKW merch hoddie, his hair, unlike yours, was already completely dry. You probably have to stop washing your hair so late at night but now wasn't the moment to think about this.

— God, why didn't I pack earlier? — You asked rhetorically as you sighed taking some of your favorite pants and folding them right before putting them in the suitcase.

— Exactly! I told ya to do it earlier today but you said you still had time. — Harry said on a convincing way as he drank a sip of his water that he held in a bottle. You just rolled your eyes at him. You hated being stressed and you hated even more when you were stressing over something and Harry says something like "I told you so." You hate conflict and specially when it's with Harry and now was definitely not the moment, so you just shrugged it off.

— By the way, which suitcase are you taking? Because I found yours up in the shelf. — You said, never taking your eyes away from the clothes you were putting on the floor as you created combinations and outfits for you to have an idea before putting it in the suitcase; you were on your knees as you decided to which clothes you'd take with you.

   Harry went completely silent at the moment he heard you. This was the time he realized that with all the things you both were setting up for the trip today, he completely forgot of packing his stuff. Harry froze, he felt it through all his body. He knew how much you were stressed over all the things you both did today to get prepared for the trip, and he'd swear to god that you'd completely lost it at the moment he'd tell you he forgot about it.

   You looked over at him because of his silence and his expression said everything his mouth didn't. You stopped moving your hands immediately and kept a straight face at him literally praying he was only joking, but he wasn't.

— Are you for real? — You'd ask resting your hands over your thighs as you only received silence as a response — Harry, I can't believe you! — You'd say sounding extremely frustrated. You'd pass your hands over your face trying to wake you up more because truly, you were so sleepy right now. You'd feel your cold hands pass through your wet strands of hair before looking at him getting more into the closet now.

— Love, I'm so sorry! — Harry'd say entering the room and bend down next to you avoiding touching your clothes on the floor — It's just... I went all the way today resolving all the other stuff for the trip and I completely forgot about it! — Harry would say with puppy eyes, he actually felt kinda ashamed for just saying to you that he told you to pack before when he didn't even remembered to do it himself.

— I know, I know — You said getting more relaxed on the floor now crossing your legs — It's just, you take so long to do it everytime and we need to grab some sleep tonight — You'd say making an emphasis on the "so long" making Harry sigh. He instantly stand up after you finished talking, walking directly towards the shelf to grab his own suitcase putting it on the floor as he opened it too.

— No, I won't take too much time! I'll just grab some stuff. I'll show you and you tell me what you think! — Harry said as he opened his part of the closet immediately looking through the pants, the many pants he had actually — It's okay! — He'd say, probably trying to convince himself more than actually you. You have no idea why but whenever Harry had to pack his suitcase he'd take hours to do it, he would just take hours to decide on each outfit and then he'd decide when to wear it and if he was actually going to wear it, so yes, it would literally take hours.

   Later, Harry'd think about it all while he contemplated you from the bed. He was lying on his side, propping his head on his hand, so he could get a more proper look at you.

   It took both of you two hours to pack Harry’s suitcase and it was around 1AM now. You don’t think he knows what ‘'It’ll be fast’’ actually means. You were now in front of the mirror. You used the comb to brush your now dry hair while looking in the mirror. You have had long nights at work before and you've been very tired several times but this time, it felt different.

   This is the first time that you and Harry have decided what to do for Christmas and thank God there would be no hosting; but even so it's difficult to organize things for so many people. Harry has been so helpful, and you can't complain. Even though he was tired of being on set, he always donated his time to talk about Christmas, but how could he avoid it? He loved it. He loved being able to get together with his family and spend a good and happy time. Harry remembers the first Christmas you spent together. It was 2018 and you guys went to Holmes Chapel to celebrate. That was also the first Christmas of your life where you wouldn't spend it with your mother because, well, you didn't want to abuse it and take her to Anne's house. Harry realized how sad it had made you and surprised you on Christmas Eve afternoon when he came home from an alleged "supermarket drive" with your mother. He remembers how happy you were, your genuine smile that you just couldn't get off your face, and he remembers how much he fell ten times more in love with you that day. There was not even a year that you were together, god, as time flies.

   You have finished brushing your hair and put the comb in the first drawer of the counter. You left the bathroom to walk to your bed feeling Harry's gaze on you making you frown and smile at him as you lay on the bed covering yourself with the covers.

— Why are you looking at me like this? — You ask taking the covers up to your neck while turning to be able to face the boy's face, who was now accompanied by a tender smile.

— Nothing much, just memories! — Harry said as he watched the yellow light from his lamp reflect in your eyes —You're so beautiful it makes me angry sometimes. — Harry said pulling a chuckle from you. God, how he loved that sound. He then extended his arm to turn off the lamp leaving the room in total darkness, then going deeper under the covers as well.

— Oh, you're just saying that! — You responded by making him chuckled now with your fake modest — You set the alarm clock, right? — You asked him softly, trying your best to keep your eyes open even though they insisted on wanting to close.

— I did! — Harry said approaching you, feeling your body heat under the covers. He brought his right hand to your waist and pulled you closer to his chest, taking the opportunity to kiss your temple. — Let's sleep now okay? I love you! — Harry said feeling you nod and whisper a soft '' I love you too ''. It was a combination of you to say you love each other every night before going to sleep; you did it even when you fought, but in these cases I love you's usually came with "but I'm really mad at you."

December 20th, 2020 — 6:00 AM.

      You were in such a deep sleep, you two were. The truth is: this instability was not your thing. At one day you were in London, the next in NYC, the next in LA, then in Palm Springs and now back in Los Angeles, the hard part would believe you wouldn't be tired of it. And it's precisely because of tiredness that neither you nor Harry heard the four times that the alarm went off, but let's agree that having gone to sleep after one in the morning packing Harry's suitcase was a big factor to consider.

   5:00 AM, 5:20 AM, 5:30 AM, 5:45 AM... Nothing, you didn't even move, well, you did move to pull the covers next to you. For some reason your eyes slowly opened. You stared at the light coming from the curtains content with yourself for waking up even before the clock woke up, little did you know.

   You stretched and took your hands to rub your sleepy eyes then using one of them to get your phone that was powering on the nightstand next to the bed. When you unlock the phone screen and face the hours, you felt your heart beat faster. You blinked briefly to see if you were seeing the right time and got out of bed in a heart beat.

— HARRY! — You said basically screaming. Harry woke up quickly, his heart racing as he sat on the bed and watched you standing, putting on your slippers quickly. He watched you take a hair tie from the drawer of your nightstand and quickly tie your long strands of hair into a ponytail.

— What...What happened? — Harry said using his hands to rub his eyes as he slowly got up from the bed.

— It's already six in the morning, the alarm didn't go off! — You said quickly what surprised Harry, since normally you spoke even slowly — Come on, get up! We have 45 minutes to get to the airport, and it's a 35 minute drive. We need to start getting ready quickly. — You walked directly to the bathroom counter, pouring liquid facial soap into your hands and washing your face. You couldn't see it, but you heard the noise of Harry changing clothes in the room. You absolutely hated leaving the house in the morning without taking a shower, but you wouldn't have any time for that.

   You chose not to wear any makeup, as always in fact. You just put sunscreen on your face and loosened your ponytail feeling your long strands of hair fall over your shoulders as you retreated from the suite bathroom and spotted Harry wearing jeans and an oversized black sweatshirt walking past you to use the bathroom himself now. You opened your part of the wardrobe by grabbing yourself a black jan bell pants, a black t-shirt too and a pink sweatshirt over it in which you dressed up fastly, and put your white sneakers as well. 

— Have you finished? — You said putting your cell phone, charger, wallet and other essentials in your handbag as you approached the bathroom door observing Harry dry his hands on the towel and then saying a brief "Yes" after putting on his rings on his fingers. He turned off the bathroom light and turned to you while the two of you started walking towards the stairs, where you went down with your suitcases in hand. The original plan was to call a car to take you to the airport but clearly, there was no time for that, so you guys would go in Harry's car, which would be picked up at the airport by Jeff who had promised Harry that he would take him back to the house.

   The sun was still cold, that cold early morning sun where the sky still has that lilac color mixed with orange. You left your suitcase in front of the trunk and walked to the passenger seat next to the driver where you sat down and installed the belt instantly while Harry just put both suitcases in the trunk, then closed it and walked to the front of the car as well, and right after sitting in the driver's seat putting on the seat belt, he started the engine and starting to drive as well.

   The drive to the airport was quiet. There was little traffic, nothing compared to LA traffic but there was still a little. Harry prayed it didn't have any fans at the airport, not because he didn't want to see them, but because you were so late and he knew that neither of you would ignore your fans and just keep walking. When Harry parked the car, you might notice some paparazzi's outside, nothing too crowded actually. In less than two minutes, you were already out of the car with your bags on a cart walking, let's say, very quickly until the airport check-in. You were a little impatient to see that there was a line of about five people before you. You looked at the time on your cell phone and sighed, turning the screen to Harry showing that it was now 6:47 AM and there were still three more people in front of you. You had a frustrated and worried look, just the thought that maybe you can't make it to your destination and Harry realized that, he always perceives the smallest things in and about you; let it be a different sigh to a different gleam in the eye. He perceives everything, even though you're wearing a mask now.

   Harry wrapped you in his arms, hugging you tight and kissing your hairline as a form of affection. Your head was between Harry’s neck where you could perfectly smell his scent, and the comforting warmth he emanated; you could have sworn that nothing and no one��could get you out of that moment, but then your turn came in line and a man called you.

— Good Morning ma'am! May I help you? — The man said trying to sound sympathetic. You were hoping that Harry could resolve this but apparently, the guy asked you and not him. You put a few strands of your hair behind your ears, and you formed the phrases in your head.

— Good Morning! — You said first, feeling Harry touching the ends of your hair behing your back — So, we had two tickets for the flight of 6:45 AM for Paris but, unfortunately we couldn’t make it in time. Is there any way that you could get us new tickets? Anything would be amazing!  — You said, while mentally praying that there was at least one flight that would take you there. The plan was that you were going to make a scale in Paris and then taking the train to the French Alps which would be a 5-hour train ride, but as you were counting on a direct flight to Paris, it wouldn’t be a problem to stay on a train for five hours.

— Look, ma'am. — The guy sighed looking a little frustrated. Harry touched your shoulders and squeezed a little feeling how hard your shoulders muscle were from tension — I do have a flight for Paris! — In the moment he said it you and Harry let out a deep breath relieved — But, it's going to scale in New York and London!

— And how many hours of traveling? — Harry asked getting a little closer to the counter putting his glove covered hand over the counter as well.

— Around 18 or 20 hours — The man answered and you and Harry sighed. You would be there in the morning on the LA time, and on the French Alps time it will probably be 6:30 AM too. You let out a long breath, and Harry looked at you attentively looking for any sign of giving up; he wanted to go, of course, but if you said it would be better to stay, he would be without a second thought.

— Well, we have to go, right? — You said softly to Harry and then redirected your gaze to the man and nodded. — Okay, we’ll keep the tickets.

—They’re economic tickets, all right? I see here that you had executive tickets — The man asked and you can't hesitate to drop a light chuckle.

— No problems! — Harry replied, and then he returned to finishing to configure the informations of your new tickets.

  It didn't really take long, a few minutes and you already had the new tickets in hand. As you both walked to find a place to sit, you remembered that with all the running from the morning none of you had breakfast. You checked your bags on the conveyor belt and went up the escalators at the big LAX Airport looking for a small restaurant to buy something. You chose the Urth Caffé & Bar because you were used to eating in there whenever you had to travel. It was a very cute and cozy place with a yellow lighting, wood tables and chairs that gave a whole charm to it. You both ordered a coffee; you ordered a latte and Harry ordered a black coffee, and to eat you both ordered bagels sandwiches. There were some fans in there this time. They were all pretty respectful and nice when they came over asking for pictures. You both took the pics and talked with them for a while until you had to leave which honestly made your heart aches. You loved when you could meet and talk to your fans, to create that connection it's so important to you but you couldn't risk missing another flight.

   As you were already settled up on your seats, you re-checked your seat bell probably five times in a row while the "In case of emergency" video passed on the little screen in front of you. Harry noticed you checking it again, and he used his hands to hold yours as a sign to stop you.

— Hey, you already did that... — Harry said looking directly into your eyes — Five times, love!

— Oh... — You whispered then redirecting yourself on your seat. The truth is, you're a model, you date a singer and you're probably more in a plane than in your own house, but you are terrified of it. You've always been, just the thought of being on a plane scares you. And we don't even have to say about whenever a turbulence would occurs. Harry knew that, and he took it as a responsibility of his to keep you calm whenever you were on a plane together.

— Oh, let's watch something together! — Harry said getting his upper body closer to you looking at your little screen — We can choose the same thing and watch it!

— Sure, something on your mind? — You asked as you grabbed the ear plunges of the plane trying to turn it on as Harry now were turning his phone off.

— I don't know! Since we finished watching Bly Manor, I have no idea what we should watch next — Harry said putting his phone on his pocket, and then grabbing himself his ear plunge.

— Oh god, and how good was it? — You said having a fan girl moment. Literally, you were such a fan of The Haunting series and all about it. You and Harry binged watching The Haunting of Bly Manor in like a day. — But.. — You turned on your screen and started to look through the christmas movies, yes you also loved them. Both of you do, who doesn't like christmas movies? — Oh, let's watch Princess Switch 2? We didn't have time to watch it! — You clicked on the movie, so you could read the synopsis to have an idea what would be about. You and Harry watched the first one back in 2018 and you guys really liked it so this could be cool. It's actually kinda crazy all of the stuffs you've watched together. It's crazy how you guys can watch a really serious and heavy movie and then watch all of Barbies movies on the same day.

— Alright, let's watch it! — Harry agreed as he searched for the movie himself — I saw in the trailer that there's a third twin on this movie.

— Love, they're not twins!— You'd say getting your movie ready to be started.

 — They're not? Of course they are! If they're not, then what are they? — Harry said putting his ear plunges on and getting the covers that the airplane company use to put on the seats for the passagers. You actually think it's cute that Harry has this thing on being under the covers and cuddled up whenever he was watching to a movie, and with the weather like this, it would be perfect. I mean, it's cold in LA with 46 F°, as you lived in NYC before you could only imagine how the weather was in there with 32F°. But anyway, you kinda missed NYC a little bit. It's honestly kinda messed up now because you haven't officially moved to LA from New York, but the last time you were in NY was probably in early May, before your birthday because you both celebrated your birthday in Holmes Chapel with Anne and Gemma.

— I don't know — You'd chuckle to answer his question feeling him spread the covers on both of you and snuggle himself on your chest — I think they're relatives in some point, but they're not twins! — You'd hear a soft "oh" from Harry as you put the ear plunges yourself and clicked the movie to play. In general, you watched the movie commenting on the scenes and you both really liked it, it was funny and not tiring at all. And then after it, you both bing watched The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, I know it seems crazy but you've been so obsessed with it lately and anytime you were obsessed with something you'd usually make Harry get obsessed too. And I mean, it was a 5-hour long flight and you both could catch up with some housewives drama. The flight ended, and you both arrived in NYC, you'd have a 1 hour and a half stop and you managed to think you both could actually do something in this hour, obviously nothing to far away from the airport, you wouldn't take any risks. So you'd chose one of your favorite places in New York ever aka the M&M's Store. God, you loved this place, and you loved M&M's, and so did Harry.

   There were some paparazzi on the street, but this is NY and it's just a daily basis thing. You both walked around the store buying some really cool chocolates when you saw a cute one with marshmallows and you showed it to Harry getting a disgusted face from him.

— No, I'm so allergic to marshmallow! — Harry would say grabbing some kind of M&M's to see and you rolled your eyes recalling the number of times you both had this conversation before. You turned around getting right on Harry's front and looking into his eyes.

—  You’re not allergic to mashmallows! You’re allergic to one of the ingredients in it, if you do the homemade one you can eat it normally, oh my god! — You said trying your best to show your sassy side and Harry actually only continue saying this because he knows you'll react like this and he think it's cute, so he'd just get closer to your face and give a peck to your lips.

— I know, sorry! — He'd say smirking a little and fixing his beanie on his head with his left hand — I love the ones you make, by the way.

— I know, I'm such a master chef that's how I made you fall in love with me! — You'd answer him with a smirk on your face when you turn around to look more over the chocolates.

— And who said I love ye’, miss? — Harry said mocking you and you’d immediately turn to stare at his face with the most realistic offended expression you could create now.

— Um, excuse me? — You’d say with your righthand touching your chest with raised eye browns — If that’s how you feel I'm just gonna go over there look for Brad Pitt! — You’d say with your sassy tone starting to walk away from him but you were stopped by him when he grabbed your empty hand bringing you closer to him 

— Oh so you're overlapping me for Brad Pitt? — Harry said making you roll your eyes with a playful smile in your mask covered lips.

— Well, take it as a revenge for overlapping me for Mitch every day! — You'd say making him let out a loud laugh — But, I'll consider letting this go if we go to Victoria Secrets right now and you buy me my favorite fragrance!

— Oh, you're such a blackmailer! — Harry would say shaking his head slowly and crossing his arms close to his body watching you put your best puppy eyes on display — Alright, just because I probably love that fragrance more than you! — He said making you give him a big smile that he could notice by the way your eyes got smaller. This is actually a joke because it was pretty rare for having you ask Harry to buy you anything, you'd always tell him that you "didn't need anything", and specially when he comes home with those really expensive Gucci merch. Honestly, all the expensive things that you have, like, Chanel, Versace, Gucci were usually gifts from the brand and a few from Harry because you're much of a economizer thinking that these are actually pretty expensive things and you don't actually need. Why would you go around with a 3 thousand dollars Gucci bag when you can buy a super cute bag for 50 dollars? Yep, Harry didn't understand that on the many times he got you something expensive so then, now he rarely does it because he knows that the way for your heart it's probably the most simple and genuine he can be.

 In the VS shop, you were looking through the fragrances for you favorite one that was Bare Vanilla, it's probably the best. And you've been using it for years now, literally since you were a teenager. When you finally found your Bare Vanilla Kit, you were actually surprised by Harry behind you holding a set of lingerie on the color of pearl with some baby blue lace details. You looked at it and then later at the lingerie and then at him again with a "what is that?" expression on your face.

— Love, I know ye' came here to buy the fragrance but this would look so good in you! — Harry said making a louder voice while pronouncing the "so good" making you touch the fabric with your hands in silence thinking about it as you looked, yes it was really pretty. What can you do? Your man does have a good taste. — Ok I'll buy it as your christmas gift! — You said taking the lingerie carefully from his hand.

— For me? I was thinking more of you in it, but I can wear it if you want. I bet it will define all of my sexy curves — Harry said putting a hand on his own waist making a pose making you laugh out loud of his words, it's the sass for me.

— No, oh my god! I'll be the present. This could be the gift paper — You'd say winking on an eye at him as you tried to control your laugh seeing the smirk on his face, this little promiscuous guy.

   On your way back to the airport you noticed very similar words on a wall beside you and you couldn't hold your emotion when you saw it. It was a black wall written "Do You Know Who You Are?", as in Lights Up. When you showed Harry he got so smiley and blushed at the same time, it's just the shyness in him. You took a quick picture of it before actually entering the airport again. Right on time.

  You were about to face another flight with a six hour and 40 minutes of duration and god, in this cold weather, with covers, hoddies, M&M's, movies and your love made everywhere feels cozy and warm. On this flight, you agreed to watch The Notebook with Harry, and you liked it very much, not as much as he did, but you liked it.  You had taken your sneakers off staying with your socks only, you had also let your hair loose as you leaned your head on Harry's shoulder this time, fixing your covered legs under the cover and feeling the warm sensation coming from his body heat, it wasn't much until Harry realised that you were completely asleep when he tried to talk to you about how Ellie's mom had such an attitude when she decided to hide Noah's letter from Ellie all those years but instead, he saw your sleeping face on his shoulder and his heart melted at the vision so he just decided to let you sleep because he really thought you deserved to, and also, after the movie ended he did sleep as well.

   Your flight arrived in London by 7:28 PM on Los Angeles time. By London's time it was already 5:28 AM, and it had a 44 F° weather. You had a smaller scale time this time. It was a 35 minutes scale, thank god. You both took your time to walk inside the airport. You loved London. You really did. You loved the weather and the beautiful places to visit in here, oh and the cute british accents, you loved it.

   You both walked through the airport observing everything. The people, the christmas lights and the stores. Harry had one of his arms over your shoulders as you walked through it. As you entered the stores session, you'd spot World Duty Free store and look at Harry. — Let's go to World Duty Free and buy colorful highlighters so you can use it on christmas eve! — You say while stopped walking when you got in front of the referred store. Harry looked at the big illuminated sign with the store's name and then back at you.

— A colorful one? D' you think it'll look good? Maybe a gold one, no? — He said pushing you into the illuminated store. You loved that Harry knew this stuff and how sometimes when you'd have nothing to do he would let you put some makeup on his face because he knew you didn't like putting it on your face often.

— Yeah, a gold one would be better! I'll go find one, try looking for other stuff — You'd say getting out of his embrace and walking to the other corner of the store. You looked through the makeup wall in front of you as you searched for a gold highlight.

— Hello, may I help you? — A very young lady came to you with the store's uniform. You looked at her smiling tenderly and shook your head. — Oh no, thank you! I was just looking for a highlighter, but I already found it! — You said showing her the little package in your hand and she smiled back at you saying that if you needed anything else you could call her and you thanked. You would keep looking through the wall to see if you wanted anything else when you noticed a tall man coming over you. You looked at him because well, he was staring you.

— Hm... Hi, I'm Ryan! — He said shyly to you. You just stayed there looking at him with no moves — Hm, I just wanted to say that your American accent it's really cute and... Would you mind giving me your number? — He'd say nervously, and you let out a chuckle as you closed your eyes for a moment.

— I’m really flattered, but I’m here with my boyfriend, I’m sorry — You said softly as you could see Harry coming over to you guys with a very straight face. — There he is! — You pointed at Harry that quickened his pace a little when he saw you pointing at him.

— Oh, I apologize! Anyway, merry christmas! — He said with a tender smile as he walked away from you when you murmured a "Merry Christmas". Harry finally got to you and frowned his eyebrows a little looking at the guy’s back and then back at you.

— Who was it? — Harry softly asked containing his jealousy. Whenever Harry would say in interviews that he was an easily jealous person, he wasn’t joking. But he learned to contain it now because this was the biggest discussion maker on the beginning of your relationship.

— It was this guy Ryan trying to hit on me — You’d say with a smirk on your face because you knew this would tease him — He politely asked me for my number, and then I told him that I was here with my boyfriend.

—You should’ve told him you were here with your handsome and sexy boyfriend — Harry said with joking tone and you raised your eyebrows at him as you started to walk towards the cashier.

— No, I think just ''boyfriend'', is enough!  — You’d say mocking him before you paid your bill. And walked back to the departuring space for Paris.

   You confess that coming back to Paris made you a little nervous. The last time you were here was in February and it was quite...peculiar. But it would be just a scale and things would occur right.

   The flight for Paris were definetely the the fastest one as it lasted only an hour and fifteen minutes. You both had dinner in the plane while binge watching The Real Housewives of Bervely Hills, a little obssesed maybe? Harry had already warned Anne about both of you being late as you all scheduled to get there maybe 6 or 7 hours ago, but as the iconic Queen of Genovia said once ‘’A queen is never late, anybody else is just earlier’’. Oh, you both could’ve watched The Princess Diaries today, damn it.

— As we’re here, we have to admit it... It was quite an adventure, wasn’t it? Three cities in a day — Harry would say taking the ends of your hair between his fingers.

— It was, but I kinda wished we had a little bit more of time in London so we could go to the London Eye — You’d say causing Harry to happily agree with you as it was one of his favorite attractions to go in London.

— All I know is that when we get in there I’ll sleep for as long as I can.

— How can ye’ be sleepy? You slept all the flight from New York to London and I know it! — You’d ask really curiously about his answer because it actually made you surprised on how easily he could sleep. He could be sitting on the most uncomfortable chair in the world but if he closes his eyes, he’ll easily fall asleep.

— It’s my natural talent! Did you think that I could only sing? — He asked rhetorically with a very convincin' tone.

— I’m sorry then Mr.Sleepy! — You would say mocking him as you turned your phone on to answer your missed texts. Gemma has already sent you tons of texts about the house and how’s the climate in there. She told you that you both better be all wrapped up or instead she’ll push your face, oh the good old family love.

    When the plane landed, you and Harry grabbed your suitcases as fast as you could so you could get a cab to the train station and finally arrive on the Alps. You loved Paris in the winter. You loved Paris by the night, and that hasn’t changed. There weren’t paparazzi which contributed to keep you calm but there were maybe some fans spotting you guys and asking for pictures. They’d ask if you both were going to celebrate Christmas in Paris and you’d tell them that it’s just a scale. You were calm but Harry wasn’t. Since the prank in Paris from February, Harry has been incredibly more protective than he already was, and getting back in Paris actually remembered him of that night and that he wouldn’t let it happen again.

   But it all turned out good, the train ride actually felt so relaxing and that made you wonder why in the world none of you have ever traveled together by train. Neither of you slept, though, you both talked. Talked for hours nonstop. You talked about your jobs, your experiences, what you like and what you don’t. You talked about what you wished for 2021 and you even chuckled a bit when Harry said he was looking foward to put ring on your finger in 2021; bullshit, you'd think. But anyway, you'd talk on how in some way you both were grateful for having each other during the hard times we’re all living, getting to know each other better while there was nobody on the streets because actually, if the world was ending you both wouldn’t want to spend it anywhere else and with anyone else.

   The train ride was so calm, so great, so both of you. You were not the kind of couple that needed all luxury, that needed to go out every weekend to have dinner on a fancy restaurant, that needed to buy each other expensive gifts and needed to share every detail of what you did. You were simple. You were comfortable discovering a new world and experiencing things together on your own way and your own time. Neither of you needed all of those stuff. You only needed each other. You needed to feel the warm of each others body, you needed to be graced by the sound of each others laugh and voice, you needed to see the smile on each others faces and to know that even when times get hard you’d always have each other. Your relationship wasn’t perfect, none are. But in the end of the day love always win and if you love each other and it’s meant to be the rest will be history.

   As the sun was starting to rise, you leaned your back in Harry’s chest so you could both see the view from the big glass window. You had your hair loosened on his chest as he envolved you on his arms hugging you from behind supporting his chin by the top of your head. The light yellow sun made the snow even whiter and more resuscitating by touching it with its rays. The sky had this lilac and orange colors, and it seemed to have a breeze air, you couldn’t confirm it though as the train was warmed by a heater. You’d start murmuring to the song Turning Page by Sleeping at Last which caused Harry to smile tenderly. He knew you were doing it by a reflex and actually didn’t think he was going to listen to it, but he did. And he smiled because this had been you guys song for almost three years now. 

—Your love’s my turning page, where only the sweetest words remain — Harry would start singing really close to your ears. Really close and really softly, causing you to smile now but never taking your eyes of the view of the window — Every kiss is a cursive line. Every touch is a redefining place — You’d close your eyes caressing his arm around you and then opening your eyes again, messing with his rings that covered the fingers on his strong hands.

— I surrender who I’ve been, for who you are — You’d complement the song lycris with your eyes closed, feeling nothing more than peace.

— For nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart — Harry kept singing holding you tight, because he never would want to let you slip away of his embrace — If I had only felt how it feels to be yours, I would’ve known what I’ve been living for.

— What I’ve been living for! — You complemented. There’s no other place either of you would want to be now. Of course this wasn’t the trip that you both planned, but it was better. It was different, funny and relaxing, and that’s the one thing for you.

   You both got out of that train feeling nothing more than peace, and that’s the spirit of the holidays, isn’t it? The cold sharp of air hitted your face immidietely and you both rushed to get a car that could take you to the holiday house. Gemma would probably kills both of you for not being properly wrapped up but she actually didn’t, thank god for her to be sleeping.

   When you both arrived at the house you struggled a bit to unlock it with the keys but it worked and you came across a beautiful Christmas decoration with a huge christmas tree with a lot of lights and some other cute decorations too. It almost felt like North Pole but it would probably be ten times colder than it was here. You both left your bags on the living room floor and went to take a small tour on the house, when you arrived at the kitchen there were a plate full of brownies and a small note.

    Harry & Y/N,

we couldn’t wait for you to arrive because we were so sleepy but we did those brownies for you guys. Eat it, you must be hungry! We love you and we're looking foward to see you in the morning

                                           — love, Anne.

— Your mother is the best person on the entire universe! —  You’d say showing the note to Harry and grabbing yourself a piece of brownie as he took the small paper on his hands to read it himself as you took a bite from one brownie—  And those brownies are the best thing I’ve ever eaten.

     TO BE CONTINUED.... Christmas special part 1

[wintersxsoul]

Matching Scars (4)

Summary:  “How could someone like you, love someone like me? It makes no fucking sense.“

Pairings: Loki x Reader // Steve Rogers x OFC

Warnings: Nightmares, descriptions of physical abuse, swearing, angst, eventual smut, depression, intrussive thoughts, self-harming, etc.

A/N: This is the first series I wrote at the beggining of summer. I posted it on ao3. 

Series masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Your phone rang loudly enough to wake you up. You didn’t know how long you’ve been asleep, but as you opened your eyes, you realized that it was night. You scanned the room to see if there was someone there with you, as you could feel a presence. Empty. You reached the lamp on your nightstand and turn it on, when you saw the book Frigga gave you and a note on top of it:

Dear pain in the ass,

I came to see you earlier and you were peacefully asleep, and despite knowing that you love my face, I couldn't bring myself to wake you up. I leave you the book so you're not too bored, I'll come in the morning to see you.

With love,

                Me.

You smiled at Anne's note and took your phone to see who called you. It was 10 PM, so you decided to return the call to the unknown number. No one answered. The second you left the phone on the nightstand again, a message popped up.

Hey, Y/N. I’m Evan.

I tried calling you a few times today but your phone was off or maybe you gave me the wrong number. I hope you didn’t.

I was wondering if maybe you wanted to meet me tonight for a drink at the bar?

I’m already here with some friends, so I can’t receive or do phone calls.

Let me know? :D

FUCK . You totally forgot that you had a life. OMG. You had to work tomorrow. You jumped out of bed and rushed to the door. You saw a light at the end of the aisle, so you went, hoping you could talk to someone so they could take you back home. You stepped into a lab, with a lot of machine pieces and a lot of papers splattered in the floor. You heard a noise and you immediately turned around to see what happened.

Tony fucking Stark was before you, with a cup of coffee in his hand. He looked terribly tired. He closed the door and smiled at you.

“Hey kiddo, how are you?” He said in a friendly tone.

“I’ve been better, but good I guess. Thank you so much for everything Mr. Stark.” Is it too much to ask for an autograph? You asked yourself, without needing an answer. It was too much.

“I guess you came here for a reason, and I’m sure it’s not for the small talk.” You rolled your eyes and grinned. “Well, you're talking to me, so I also understand that that's just the reason.”

“No, I-I need to go home, I work tomorrow morning. And also in the afternoon.” You felt very nervous. You were speaking to Iron Man himself. Bye. Chill the fuck out bitch. You cleared your throat “So, yeah, I need to go now.”

Tony looked at his watch, and took his phone. “Let me arrange that. Go back to sleep kid. You need to rest.” You nodded and left the room. You didn’t have the energy to argue.

Once you were back in your room, you realized you needed a shower.

While you showered, you couldn't stop thinking about Frigga and all the conversations you had about her sons. She had told you how intelligent Loki was, such a loving and caring person, with trust and abandonment issues, but he always struggled to be better. The Loki you knew was cruel, ruthless, narcissist, confident and a huge asshole. Thor on the other hand, was a huge puppy, soft and loveable, just what Frigga told you.

“I hope one day you’ll meet them. You’ll get along well with my younger son, you have a lot of things in common.” You remembered she told you once. You really missed her.

You didn’t notice that you were crying until your body began to shake. You sat on the floor while the water fell on your back, you couldn’t stop crying. You rested your head on the wall, until the sobbing stopped, and after more than half an hour, you left the shower.

You dried and carried your tired body to the bed. You texted back Evan, telling him that you were sick and maybe you could meet any other day.

You fell asleep after reading almost half of the book, around 4 AM.

“Are you sure she’s okay? She never sleeps this much. I’ve never seen her so bad.” Anne’s voice echoed in your head like it was from a dream.

“She’s just dealing with a lot of pain. The grief she’s feeling must be too much for her body to bear.” A deep voice said. You couldn't put a face to the man who spoke, but he sounded familiar.

“I hate to see her like this, she’s been through a lot already, Steve.” You could hear the concern in her voice. You made an effort and opened your eyes. You saw Anne sitting next to Steve Rogers, with her head resting on his shoulder and his hand stroking her long blond hair.

What the fuck is going on? Anne and Captain America? This bitch really gets what she wants. Even the famous Steve Rogers.

You thought to yourself as you sat in the bed. You yawned and cleared your throat. Anne looked at you and ran to hug you.

“Are you okay? Is everything fine here? Do you need anything? Do y-” You cut her off. “Anne, I’m fine. Not as good as you, though.” You looked at Steve, who was now blushing. You laughed and he smiled shyly.

“I would like to do something today. I can’t stay here longer, I might go insane.” You looked at Anne, who was smiling at you widely.

“Alright, get out of your pajamas and after breakfast we’ll see what we can do.”

You went to the kitchen, and stopped in your tracks as you saw Loki. He glanced at you and after a second looked away to keep reading his book.

You entered the room with your head held high looking at him with disdain. God, you hated this man so much you could just punch him just for breathing. Breathe, that’s what you needed to do. Breathe .

“Good morning, garbage. Planning a mass murder?” Where did that come from?

“Just one.” He said cocking his head towards you, with a mischievous smile.

What an ass...He has a nice smile, though. You frowned at your last thought and pushed it away.

You prepared your breakfast, and you could feel Loki’s eyes piercing the back of your head, and everytime you tried to catch him looking, he was peacefully reading. So annoying.

You heard steps coming from the aisle, and you felt relieved that hopefully, more friendly company was coming. Stark entered the kitchen with a huge smile, for you. He glanced at the annoying God, who was still reading in his corner.

“Hey there, sleeping beauty, how are you today?” You rolled your eyes at your nickname, and answered the truth. You were going to be okay.

“It’s good to hear that kiddo. Is this little bitch treating you alright?” He said looking at Loki. You laughed and nodded.

“Since everyone is so happy to have this whiny mortal here, I’ll be at my room until she’s gone.” He stood up and tried to leave, but Tony grabbed his arm before he could go.

“Take some extra food then, she’s staying here two more weeks. So unless you wanna starve, which I wouldn't care at all, change your attitude. She has done nothing to you.” Loki pulled Tony's hand away and left without saying anything else.

“Two weeks? What about my work? And my apartment?” You asked him, worried. You could not afford to miss your work for two weeks.

“You don’t need to worry about any of that. You just need to worry about resting and trying not to kill Loki.” He smiled at you and went to prepare himself a coffee.

Your day was pretty amazing. Steve and Thor showed Anne and you the building, the gardens and the library. Anne almost died when she stepped in the huge room, you both loved books, in fact, that’s how you met 10 years ago. You were both looking for the same book in a library, and the rest is history.

Tony arranged Anne’s stay as well, so you both could have holidays together. You actually knew it was Steve who talked to Mr. Stark about Anne, but you were fine with it. Two days here and your friend was already glowing.

Her ex, Charlie, was the worst person ever. She was still not over him at all, so maybe staying here could help her.

You spent the afternoon in the gym boxing and doing some training. You hadn’t boxed in months, work took all the free time you had. It felt good to release tension. You started fighting with 12 years old, when they put you in your first problematic foster family, the eldest son beat you just for talking, and the father started doing the same. From there, things did not improve, each household was worse than the previous one, until you were 17 years old. Your last family was not that bad, they even paid for you to go to therapy, although at 21 you left and never returned.

You were taking off the bandages from your bloody hands, when someone applauded you from the door, rage bubbling in you when you saw who he was. Fucking Loki.

Tag list is OPEN.

@trashpandabarnes @sideeffectsofyou @madamefresa @lilypalmer1987@gravedollie666 @sarahivi  @gummiwormsandonedirection​

[thelittleprincessbookblog]

Day 3 of 100 days of Booklr: 20 books to read in 2020

I know, I know i'm more inconsistent than the weather in the south right now. I am going to challenge myself to post everyday this week. I am going to plan my posts today or tomorrow so all I have to do is spend like 15 minutes before bed typing. But with that being said I will be talking about 20 books I really need to read this year. A lot of these books you may have seen in one of my 2 others posts but oh well. I’ll try not to include to many but a few have been on my tbr for like a year and I need to get them done and read.I don’t own all of these books but I either plan on buying it or reading it on E-book through Libby.  Without further ado on to day 3. 

ps. these are in no particular order.

Finale by Stephanie Garber

Me; says I won’t include to many books I’ve already talked about

Also me: Starts with a book I’ve already talked about

Ok ok in my defense I’ve had this book since about a month after it came out so since June of LAST YEAR, and I still haven’t read it. Why you may ask? No real valid reason other than not wanting to. EVEN THOUGH I’ve had 2 really big fantasy book binges since then. I’ve already talked about this book before but in summary I loved the first book, loved the second book even more then i decided that the last book wasn’t worth my time. I’m really bad at reading books when I first get them. It’s like my brain has decided that once I spend my money on the book, it’s not worth my time. But I’m gonna stop there before this becomes a post about my horrible reading habits. 

How to be a Bawse by Lilly Singh 

I’ve started and stopped reading this book so many times I’m not sure why I don’t just DNF it. The problem is that I’ve stopped reading it for no real reason that I can tell you. Like the advice in it is great and each time i reread the first few chapters that I’ve been able to get through, I always find something new and valuable. This book is just a collection of good valuable tips, I just can never get through it. So this year I am determined to read it. If I don’t read it someone PLEASE slap me and force me into a room with nothing but this book and some of the annotating sticky notes, you know the really thin, long ones. Yea those and don’t let me out until I read it. Ok? Thanks!

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

Wait, wait, wait! Before you take away my book nerd title hear me out. I have gotten like 75% done with this book like twice, but then I get bored. Not because what’s happening in the book is boring (even though I last tried to read this in like 2018 and barley remember what happened) I just couldn’t bring myself to finish it. That’s the case for a lot of books, I just kind of give up on them. I am the QUEEN of DNFing books you will come to find out. This year though will hopefully be the year I finish. In another post I’ll talk about my new method of trying to finish books like this, probably sometime this week. 

The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank

(Sorry about the cover not matching the others, it would not work with me)

Now you are allowed to call me uncultured. I read bits and pieces in 7th grade in one of those HRW books but I’ve never read the full book front to back. I really want to though and have since the 7th grade but I just haven’t. I’m hoping I can find a copy in my library bookstore because i really just want a copy to own, but this book is expensive, with good reason but still. 

A heart so fierce and broken by Brigid Kemmerer

Now I did a whole spew about this book on day 1 so if you want to know my feelings about this book go there and come back. I’ll wait....your back? Great, so with all that being said the reason I need to finish this book is because the third book is supposed to come out early January of next year and I need to know if I’m going to finish the series. I most likely will because I hate not finishing series, but it’s good to pretend. 

Little Women (The complete collection) by Louisa May Alcott

Now I know I mentioned this book before but this time I’m referring to all 4 books. Not just the first one, so this is actually 4 seperate books but since I have the one physical copy for this post it’ll be one book. Even though on Goodreads it’s going to be 4 seperate books. 

7 Habits of Highly effective teens by Sean Covey

I got this book for 8th grade graduation from the school and I never read it. I really need to though because next year is only going to get harder and I can’t keep my same study habits. Like now for instance I have 3 assignments that are either late or due first thing tomorrow but here i am avoiding them and making tumblr posts. Oh well!

Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore by Robin Sloan

This doesn’t have a long thought out reason other than it seems like a good book. 

The golden Compass by Phillip Pullman

I’ve wanted to read this series for a while but everytime I would go to the library I would find another book to read, which is my own fault but this year I want to get to at least the first book.

The lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S Lewis

I loved the movies when I was younger but like all movies they tend to leave things off. So the main reason I really want to read this is to see if I like it more than the movies. 

In order to actually post today i’m going to post 10 today and 10 tomorrow, that’s why the last few are more rushed also. I plan on doing more in depth reviews when . I’m sorry guys my life is just kinda hectic and I’ve been avoiding my homework like I said earlier and I still have chores and stuff to finish so see you tomorrow for part 2, byee!

[mary-tudor]

Secrets

~Modern Tudors: Catherine Parr & Thomas Seymour.~

“You're pushing and pulling me down to you...”

The Parrs were a very respectable family at the North of England. Catherine was the oldest of the three children of Maud Green Parr and her husband, Thomas Parr. 

Because of their status as a traditional family with links very closely tied to the English aristocracy, everything they did was always taken in regard. As the oldest daughter, Catherine could never give any reason to disappoint her ambitious parents. She was always the example to be set on the dinner conversations, when her grades were excellent whereas the same could not be said of William. He too carried the expectations of rising his surname too high, but Mrs Parr was too aware that it was Catherine who’d do so. 

Every day and night, Catherine and her younger sister, Anne, were lectured about the duties they had to their families, despite them being now set to 21st century values of independence and freedom of speech and thought. Unlike Anne, Catherine did not have much patience to serve her family, but she learned to tame her bitter thoughts as she grew to a very bright and beautiful young woman.

Sent to London at the age of 18 to study theology and politics sciences at one of the best universities of the country, Catherine, who was a tall, elegant and conscious of her good manners and eloquency, soon made her own name there. Found good intern internships and was preparing for having a career of her own as teacher... But her mother thought her daughter needed a good husband. Why not courting a man of her age? She pushed to Catherine a handsome lad named Edward Burgh, and whilst they did get along despite annoying Catherine’s spirits to submit to her mother’s old ideas of ‘courtship’, she eventually found out Edward had... other preferences. It did not work out, to her mother’s frustration.

“Mother, I would like you to stop intruding in my personal relationships” Catherine told Mrs Parr once, when she spent her vacations at her family’s house in Yorkshire. “Why are you not concerned with Will’s girlfriend? Everyone out there knows she’s not a good person.”

“She has good connections, and that is not for your concern.” She dissimulated the matter with a mere wave of hand. Catherine knew better that her mother was someone hard to persuade and sighed. “Mr John Neville, however, is interested to meet you.”

“He is an old man!” Catherine protested, and one look exchanged with Anne almost brought her to laughters. But when she came to think about it, he was not so... old. Or ugly. He just did not make her type? But what type was for her? She looked at Anne in that moment. Her younger sister was by then 17 and although her boyfriend, William Herbert, was a boy of her mother’s choice, they seemed so happy together...But Catherine had to set the example always, however annoying this could be. 

“I’ll think about it if it makes you happy.” She eventually agreed, to her mother’s joy. She felt as if she was a softer version of Elizabeth Bennet, the heroine of her favourite novel “Pride and Prejudice.”

When she was acquainted to John Neville, Catherine felt herself being dragged to the core of the aristocracy. They went to parties together, despite the man, the 3rd Baron Latimer, having voiced his unpleasantness towards the events everytime they met. 

Catherine thought Sir John a good company and one very bright man. She liked him. He often visited her at university, but their relationship was more of friends, despite his attempts to conquer her heart. Their mutual fondness for common taste subjects, nonetheless, was something that linked different personalities in a relationship that only one part was genuinely interested... It was, therefore, not meant to last. When he proposed her, Catherine sighed. Advantages here and there weighed her natural inclination to obey her mother and take that good man as husband, but what about her happiness? The indecision ought to be turned to one decision...

Until her mother told Catherine that Henry Tudor was available. The playboy of the Tudor company, the richest man of all England was looking for a girlfriend. His attempts to court Catherine, whom he had met in a random charity ball, reached Mrs Parr’s ears and made Catherine decline Sir John’s proposal once the radar of Mr Tudor reached her.

He was the closest to a nobleman that Catherine would meet, but she had less than favourable opinions about him. In one day that she went to his Castle in the countryside of London to attend a party he was giving, her best friend Cate Brandon, wife of Henry Tudor’s best friend Charles Brandon, was telling her about Henry’s previous relationships.

“They say the love of his life was Nan Boleyn. Not the Spanish girl.” She whispered in reference to Anne Boleyn. “But she could not stand his abusive manners.”

Catherine sighed. She was 25 years of age by then and was dressing in a beautiful blue dress; her long auburn hair gave Ms Parr an extra charm alongside her well shaped body and her beautiful features: her eyes were always so curious and intense, capturing the details of everything that surrounded her. But she thought unlucky when it came to men, for her previously relationships were not only arranged by her mother, but ruined for some reason she could not understand. Perhaps she would never be happy, a thought Catherine bitterly cultivated in these last years.

When she entered the rooms of this Castle owned by Henry Tudor, listening to the music that was being played loudly, Catherine remembered her best friend’s words about him. She heard how abusive he was, understanding the danger surrounded him, but what else could she do? She promised her mother she’d do her best.

But quickly she got lost from Cate, and Catherine sighed, thinking the friend must have left her for her husband, which was understandable. Yet, how would she survive in such a different place, full of fancy people? She sighed, straightened herself and prepared herself to look for Mr Tudor herself. Or Sir Tudor, whatever the way she had to call him. She raised her chin and began to look for him, when instead she distractely hit somebody else.

“Ouch.” A male voice was heard and she thought to hear anger in it. But when he saw it was a girl against whom he tumbled to, he quickly softened it. “Madame. Apologies, I haven’t seen you.”

He offered out a hand and Catherine took it, feeling a blush running over her pale cheeks. She should have known better to walk amongst those people, but truth was that she was not a party person.

“It’s fine, really. I was too distracted by all of this.” She said, before raising her eyes and feeling static at those charming and sensual blue eyes. This was the handsomest man she’d ever seen in her lifetime. He was just as tall as her, with perfect features and a short hair that fit well for him. Dressed perfectly for the occasion, Catherine was well aware how the strange man was the center of the girls' attention for she could see that each glance of any female was to his person in the hopes he’d look at them.

But he was instead looking at her.

“Are you new here?” He leaned so close to speak to her ear that Catherine’s lips trembled in an unconscious smile as she felt his breath close to her. He’d drank a beer, but was not drank, and his scent... She’d not forget. “I know every and each face that comes to attend the Tudor parties. And somehow your face is familiar to me.”

She could not remember him well, until she recalled the day William, her brother, told her about being invited to the intimate circle of the Seymours. Was he... the youngest one? Thomas, was his name? But Catherine said nothing. 

“I’m Catherine Parr.” She replied, avoiding his eyes. They were very intense, looking for something that she was not fool to see what was. But she had her pride and would not give in, despite that proximity had given her a small heat she never felt before. 

“Alas, miss Parr! You are the sister of William? He’d told me about you.” The male replied, beaming as he contemplated the redhead woman before him. Despite being a very known womanizer, Thomas admitted to himself she was too beautiful for his own good. “I’m Thomas Seymour. I’m honoured to meet you. I see you are unaccompanied?”

She could not help a smile as they began to engage in small talks. Catherine found out he was a navy man, granted to a post that made him known as High Lord Admiral; he’d never studied in universities for his father thought better sending him to the royal navy. But he was bright, she thought, and told her all the countries he’d visited and the languages he learned to speak. 

“How fascinating...” She admitted before telling him she’d recently graduated in theology and politics sciences, though intending to make a Master’s in History of the Monarchy. Her inteligence was admirable too, he thought. She was, unlike most women he’d met, the perfect combination of beauty and brain. But before he could try do something... Henry Tudor spotted Catherine.

The thought she could have been stolen away by his former brother-in-law annoyed this Tudor man more than he cared to admit, after all, he was used to having everything. Tall and fat, at the age of 37 years, Henry was hardly the handsome man he once was in his youth, but still believed that money could buy everything. Money could buy love, he once contested a Beatles song in his mind.

Pretending not to have seen that exchange of smiles and meaningful glances, he interrupted the conversation and managed to steal Catherine away from Thomas’ eyes, who in turn clenched his jaw upon seeing what was going on. And he could do nothing about it, so he watched as Catherine followed Tudor, never looking back, however, which planted a doubt in the once-always-self-confident Thomas Seymour: would she give in to whom? To Tudor or to Seymour?

In the end, the party for Catherine became so much more dull when she walked side by side at the gardens of the Castle with Tudor. She could see his charm, how eloquent he was as he spoke of subjects that had her interest in. He spoke of religion, history, politics even before moving to personal matters. Catherine learned he had two daughters and a son, named, respectively, Mary, Elizabeth and Edward. To know they were motherless somewhat enhanced Catherine’s sensitivity. She was not naive to know how was Tudor underneath, but, in the end, she considered giving him a chance for Catherine could see humanity even in the darkest of people, or perhaps she was merely doing what her mother asked.

Whatever the case, there was no space to think about Thomas Seymour, despite the insistance of her heart’s desire. The night was spent with Catherine at the side of Henry, and capturing a few glances Thomas threw. It was merely a party, she thought. It’d give nothing.

But when Henry disappeared in the shadows for some reason, Thomas insisted to come after Catherine and asked for her whatsapp. She almost laughed at it.

“Aren’t you bold?” She told him. “To come after like this? We all know what is going to happen now...” She was about to tell him when he placed a finger on her lips.

“Live the present, Miss Parr.” He leaned to whisper against her ear, his breath so hot that awake the desire she thought unable to feel. “The future is ours, if I may dare to think so.”

She shook her head, before smirking. “You see yourself too high in the esteem of others, Thomas Seymour. Let me tell you something. I’m not like the girls whose heart you are used to break. I fear I should tell you that this game is over.” She teased, speaking more bluntly than she’d ever done. Perhaps it was the wine she had with Henry, but somehow she had to put Thomas in his place. 

When her words wiped the smirk out of his face, victory was hers and Catherine smirked in turn before walking away out of the party. She knew how to play hard to get, despite having no patience for games as this. But she barely knew... this was only the beginning.

Eleven months later...

The marriage was a success. At least at first for the Parr and Tudor families. Henry left the thought of Anne Boleyn behind by marrying for the sixth time and the family he longed for was finally rebuilding in piece by piece. It was as if all could be forgiven and forgotten. 

But not to Catherine. She could not see herself as the Catherine Tudor her family and friends expected to be. Thomas was all she could think of, and despite the danger of continuing to play that chase game after all the eyes of England had turned to the Tudors and the Parrs, he would never give her away. 

Yet he did so. And he could not understand why he was behaving so strangely with this. Even his brother, Edward, mocked him once: 

“What happened to the conqueror of the englishwomen? Has his heart been finally caught?”

“Clearly it has not.” Thomas has snapped and, he did not know, Catherine would hear him tell the next words because she intended to play a trick on him. It was one of their particular plays, hidden underneath silly pretexts whilst she carried ahead the courtship with Henry Tudor. “I merely am a player who dislikes to lose a prey for others.” 

As a result, she understood what she was to him...A prey.~

Before she went to the altar, he sought for her. She was magnificently dressed in white with her red hair perfectly tied in a Victorian braid. Traditional even to this. She was left alone to her thoughts, seeing her reflection in the mirror when the door was knocked and opened before she could grant permission to do so.

To her horror, there he stood. The player. Thomas Seymour himself.

“Tom!” She exclaimed.

“Catherine.” He looked bitter as his eyes met hers. “You look beautiful.” And how he wished she was his bride. He never noticed he was ready to marry until now.

“What it takes to come alive

It's the way I'm feeling I just can't deny

But I've gotta let it go”

“What are you doing here, Thomas?” She asked coldly, after she recomposed herself. “If Henry sees you here...”

“Tudor is on the altar, he won’t know it.” He bluntly replied as he stepped forward to take her hands. “Why have you been avoiding me, Cat?”

She tried to remove her hands away from his and avoided to look into his eyes, his claiming eyes who once devoured her soul. How days turned to months before they permitted to twist foolish attraction into something more, she thought.

“I’m not your prey, Tom. I’m a woman, if you have forgotten it.” Catherine responded it, more angry than she thought she’d soun. “I’ll be a married woman soon and you better remember that. You think hearts are chest, a game you can win. But you have been selfishly committed to your own desires to notice what goes around on this world.”

She was not one to speak her thoughts, her feelings, but she was tired of being treated like an invisible being with no sentiments of her own. She could admire “Jane Eyre”, but Catherine Parr was not one.

“I...” He was taken back. Pain visible broke his pride and throughtout it let it be seen in his eyes. Catherine was surprised to see Thomas so... exposed. It made her heart sink. “It was not my intention. I don’t want to know how you know it, but I struggle with words and their sentimentalism because I was not born for either. You awake in me what my ambitions have long planted to. I’ve never seen love in my life, my parents detesting each other and favouring my brother each time. The only one who taught me so, my sister Jane, has joined Heaven and I pray for her every night. But... You...”

He stepped forward, but, like a stone, Catherine made no move.

“Do not marry him, I beg you, Catherine. You are better than this, you can be independent, raise your chin and be yourself.”

She tried to hold back the tears and tried to move herself away from him. But he would not give her up so easily.

“Please. I beg you. Don’t.”

He pulled her for an embrace, an embrace she struggled against to, but eventually melted in tears. 

“I’m sorry... I cannot.” Her voice told the words that no one would have given Thomas. It broke his heart as much as it did hers.

“Then I must wish you well.” He whispered, before planting a kiss to her forehead. “Farewell, my Queen.”

Catherine Tudor was how she’s constantly addressed in this new life. No more ‘Miss Parr’ to this or that. She was England’s new object of affection, envy and gossips. Every magazine spoke of her, every girl wished to look like her and every woman wished to be like her. But Catherine was miserable.

Henry was no fool. Her heart was taken and he knew it. At first, he tried to conquer it, taking it as a new challenge, one of the sort he loved it. He forgot his duties as the head of the old Tudor companies to devote his time to her company. She pretended it well. But was it not enough.

Soon bruises, yells and tears came within a year and two of marriage. She was constantly compared to Anne Boleyn or even to Catherine of Aragon, and Catherine was never enough for him. Like Cat Brandon told Catherine, Henry Tudor was abusive. And being trapped was... well, no word could define the situation her parents put her in.

To the children of Henry, however, she devouted herself and grew very attached to each one. Mary was more like a sister, but Elizabeth and Edward were like the children she hoped she would give Henry one day. But all the hopes seemed to disappear when Anne Boleyn returned to Henry’s life. For better or good, Catherine could not tell. But she was done with it and the day she sought Henry to make her intentions clear about a divorce, Henry too came after her with the same thought. How surprising it was to see they were both in the same page.

Divorce came eventually and when Catherine was 28 years, she decided to live her life freely. Away from her mother and father’s ambitions, despite their close ties, she began teaching in one of the Universities of London... But all her plans were void to some extent. Despite growing to an independent woman, respected by all those who knew her well, she missed something... Love, perhaps. She felt tired of duty.

But he came back once he knew she and Henry Tudor were no more together. Thomas could not move forward despite the countless nights spent with different women to forget her face, her smile... When he returned to spend his vacations in London, Thomas, thanks to William his friend, knew where to look for. He went to Catherine’s manor house in London’s countryside and once he reached destination, he knocked at the door. His heart pounds against his chest as he waits the door to be open.

Would she receive his well? Would the nature of her affections for him have changed? Nevertheless, despite the distress in his heart, he would not make his pain evident. He had to shield himself in pride... just in case.

The door was opened and Catherine stood frozen when she saw him. Her beloved Thomas returned to her arms, and she could stop breathing at this. 

“T-Tom?” Her voice broke as she was betrayed by her weak emotions. She could not believe in what she was seeing... She thought she was long forgotten, but that smile on his lips told pretty much otherwise. 

“Catherine... I’m here. I could not...”

Words were not enough for such a moment. Catherine knew then she was blessed to live now by her own means and be as blunt as it pleased her. She threw herself in his arms, missing his scent, his voice, his being. His lips craved for hers and she allowed to be claimed by his lips. 

He loved her and she loved him, that was all that mattered for a girl that had followed blindly her duties until that moment and welcomed happiness for the first time in a long time... ~

[dawnthecreator]

(1) Hi, hun! I read your rantings about episode 35. If I may: I was also pretty disappointed on my boyfriend for what they did to Amber and I really hoped Candy would speak up. On the other hand, I don't necessairly think Amber's mother's suggestion is bad advice, for it's a way to build character, in some sort of view: do not be ashamed of your failures, but face them, so you can go strong and, everytime you falter, look at those and remember you've survived them!

Okay, so there are seven of these, wow. I’ve never gotten so many messages on this blog all at once before. I’m just going to copy and paste each of them, I hope you don’t mind.

I disagree that the whole Box of Shame thing is something as positive as you make it sound. I’ll give the mother the benefit of the doubt that she intended for it to make her daughter feel ashamed, but that’s obviously what Amber feels about that box; shame. If it was something she could be proud of, it wouldn’t bother her nearly as much if at all when Priya and Candy’s boyfriend threaten to use it against her. They even say that she’s ashamed of the rejected applications.

(2) Moving on… I do think Armin’s arrest is involved with the hacking and stuff and so Iris’ arc is not entirely over, but mingled with Armin’s. Remember when Priya came along? Many people went nuts: “after all we’ve been through, she’s the one who gets lucky!?” (I remember ChiNo receiving an angry ask for that) That was exactly what it was supposed to make you feel: “it should’ve been Candy, not Priya!”. Now, we’ve gone to “it should’ve been Charlotte, not Armin!”

Okay, I’m going to break this in two parts.

First, I’m not really convinced that what Armin was doing was really “hacking”. Sure, he got Iris’ login information for both her email and the dating app account by unspecified means that could be done without hacking, but for app searching itself, Armin said that the information they were looking at was available to the public, like who all is “friends” with who and their little snippets of information. The things he read between Iris and “Tim” were accessible through her account, but not “Sweet-Queen’s” information. But this is also from personal experience with hackers and not a fictional story. I guess it’s whatever the writers want it to be.

Secondly, I don’t think those two instances are comparable at all. Like, not even a little bit. Pryia had done nothing wrong and Candy was being ridiculous and paranoid over nothing. Here, Charlotte is committing a crime against a person and she’s hardly given a slap on the wrist. I wanted someone arrested, that person being the one blackmailing Iris. Instead it’s Armin for whatever reason.

(3) Also, regarding, Patrick and Candy being bullied… We’ve stood that since the very beginning of this game and not until recently people actually began taking that matter seriously. I believe that’s exactly because the game wasn’t supposed to take such topics up for discussion, in the start. Taking that into account, even though the new writers (post Sally Anne’s departure) have chosen to go that way, they can’t throw away everything the game has been building, so it needs to be consistent.(4) Therefore, Patrick suddenly taking action could make him look a little Gary-Stuish? I’m not sure how to put it! But I think they are trying not to make things settle so easily; otherwise, it would’ve gone that way from the beginning. I think now is the time to set things revolving bullying clear, since it’s Iris’ arc motif, in some sort of way.

Again, I disagree. I think bringing in Patrick can open many doors and solve pre-existing problems this game has had in the past. The other teachers have proven to be incompetent and blind to the things that happen in their school. Now we have Patrick who is more observant and more assertive. Fans have voiced how tired they are of Amber and wanting her to grow up. What a more perfect way to end it than to bring Patrick in and sort it all out? Amber doesn’t even have to get in trouble or pay for everything she’s done; she just has to stop and move on. What’s the point of bringing in a character like Patrick if they’re not going to use him in a way that would be beneficial to the story and the fans?

(5) I have faith in the writers, to sum it up. I do, because Candy herself stated what they two had done wasn’t OK in her views and related it directly to Iris’ case. So, I’m pretty sure the writers do understand that both things can be similarly categorized, regardless of the victim’s stigma.

I have less faith in the writers since, but I also don’t expect much from them to begin with. It makes it easier to be pleasantly surprised and impressed when they do good, and to not get such a hard hitting blow when they drop the ball. It’s just that this time they dropped it hard that even though I expect nothing, I’m still let down, and there weren’t enough good things in this episode to bring it back up for me this time around.

(6) What I mean with all this is: give the game another shot. Hold that feeling for the next episode to come, because I kind of think that’s how you’re also supposed to feel: some players may have enjoyed Amber being shut down, while others pitied her, that’s why Candy stood in-between, as I see it.I may be only being positive, but this episode has left many loose ends for me to give the game’s ways a verdict and I don’t think it’s preaching wrong values, despite the characters may be […](7) being somehow exercising those. Last, but not least, I’m sorry this is all chipped, but I’m really shy, although also really wanted you to read this, which I hope you do.

I’ve been playing since 2012, so one bad episode isn’t going to make me drop the whole game. If anything, it makes me appreciate more when the writing is good and the story is good. And I don’t want to feel bad for Amber, but the game has made me feel sick to my stomach because of what my friends are doing to her. I never wanted this feeling for this character, and I’m angry that the game has made me feel this way. I’m not looking forward to the next episode, but I’ll go in anyway kicking the ground the whole way until it gets better.

Thank for sending me this. It was quite a read and a good look at other opinions, though I can’t say any of mine were changed. You don’t need to be shy around me, I don’t bite, and I hope we can have more discussions in the future.

[8am-thoughts]

What Keeps Me Going

These are the comments, feedbacks, and testimonials I (as @8amthoughts) have received in the past 2 years in my website, www.8amthoughts.com, which is long gone :( Reading sweet notes like this remind me why I want to keep doing what I love; to keep writing, to keep inspiring.

“When I get on my IG you are one of the first accounts I look at. The beautiful pieces you do of others work and your wonderful 8amoriginals inspire me every time I see them! Your beautiful words inspired me to try out hand lettering and faux calligraphy. (I did buy a nib pen but I'm not quite ready for that yet.) The amazing thing about the hand lettering is that it makes me feel really creative. I haven't written in a long time and although I desperately want to, I just have nothing good to say. But I feel like I'm getting there. So thanks for inspiring me to find my creative self, she's been dead for a very long time.“

- @darktwistyangel

“I love love love your work. The writings that you share are beautiful and so eloquent. The calligraphy is stunningly gorgeous. This is one of my favorite accounts to show up in my news feed when I check Instagram. You are so talented and wonderful. <3“

- @thatoldrelic

“I adore your work and your rocking calligraphy ! You aren't just 8 a.m. thoughts for me. You are my all day everyday. A post from you on my feed is absolute an infinite <3“

- @dark_musings_

“I absolutely adore your work. It is so incredibly beautiful and it's even more incredible when I see my work turn into these masterpieces you're so good at creating. And your piece is still my lock screen!!“

- Ashley Ryan

“Heaven sent? Brides bff? 24/7 textmate? Name it, All rolled into one! Words can never express how truly grateful I am. Isa ka sa mga wedding suppliers namin na sobrang nagpapasalamat talaga ako. Thank you so much, alam ko hindi sa wedding planning namin nagtatapos ito. Basta. Maraming, maraming salamat, 8amthoughts! :-)“

- Your First Bride

“You are so good in calligraphy, you are one of my inspirations in doing my best in writing so that one day, I'll be as good as you.“

- Anonymous

“Hi, I've been inspired by your works since then -- from faux calligraphy to modern calligraphy. Keep on inspiring others. God bless! :)”

- Alyssa Pabito

“You are one of my biggest inspirations for starting to learn calligraphy, for motivating me everytime I see your posts on instagram and for inspiring me to write again. :) Thank you.“

- Jasmine Tuquero

“You inspired me to be a calligrapher even thoh i have ugly hand writing i try my best”

- Stephanie Iligan

“Not only do you amaze me with your wonderful calligraphy and poetry skills, you also inspire me as a person to be humble and great even though you have reached peaks in life. your kind nature definitely has a lot more to reach! I love you and stay amazing <3“

- Your always, JESSICA!!

“I went and read it. Nice to see you, lovely. You explained yourself beautifully. I hope you full force showing yourself to everyone, you realize there is no worse pain, than untold story, as the late Maya Angelou would always say. And it is imperative to tell the stories with your face. Much love.“

- Robert Watson (@r_watson_)

“You know some people can seem so 2-dimensional and well, without substance because they go through their entire lives not wanting to discover their true selves or potential? I think you have just proved your identity through your work. I believe you are still developing (No doubt, because we all should be, every moment of our lives) but now that you are more confident about what you are doing as 8amthoughts and who you are as Tricia merging into each other, I think you have gotten past that barrier of insecurity. I am so happy for you! Thank you for sharing your journey with me :) Lots of love,”

- Anne Mahendran

“This is amazing huhu. I remember just last year, I was reading your poems and stories and being inspired by your calligraphy on instagram, and I always wondered who was that person behind the beauty of art. And I'm glad that now, everybody knows it. So happy for you! You dont have to be afraid anymore. :D“

- Jasmine Tuquero

“omg!this is so amazing..!I completely love your poetry!and you as a human!some fears are just ghosts..and so pointless!when we make ourselves naked we show them who we really are!tschakka :) go on sugar, and by the way, you are unbelievable beautiful, I just fell in love :)”

- Lenny Klan

“I has been a pleasure with 8amthoughts, we contacted her to do our Ayala Land Humans of Makati giveaways in such short notice but she was able to provide us with the best quality for our giveaways. Will definitely contact her again for more projects.“

- Green Bulb Public Relations

“I have had the pleasure of working with 8am thoughts (Trisha) for about a year now. She's an incredible talent, wonderful friend, and has a spirit of light I am drawn to. She did the art for my promotions for my first book and I am very confident that we will work together many times in the future. Her calligraphy and art is impeccable and her poetry is even more brilliant. Here's the part that matters.... even more prevalent than all of that is the dedication, loyalty,/'do regrets in the core of her soul. I truly love you with my whole heart my dear friend.“

- amy.johnson.poetry

“Your 8am thoughts penned down almost everything I failed to put into words and I can't thank you enough for that. I don't know you personally but you made me feel like somewhere out there, there's someone who shares the same feelings as mine.“

- Steph Palma

“Wow. Just wow. I'm a newbie here, and can I just say your blog is amazing!“

- J

“Awwww. So cuuttee. I wish I also have the guts to quit on my corporate life to concentrate on things I love the most. P.S I love your blog!“

- Marilou S Patsy

“When I think about Tricia, "excellent customer service" comes to mind. One of the attributes I considered when I chose wedding suppliers, was promptness. It just goes to show one's commitment to the task placed upon them. From day one, Tricia has been very accommodating and prompt in providing drafts/receipts. When she didn't reply right away, Tricia was quick to apologize and even provided the reason behind her delayed response. I remember Tricia giving me a heads up when she had to be away for a few days, as she anticipated signal loss.

Furthermore, Tricia valued her client-relationship with me and that made a huge difference. She loved to collaborate and brainstorm ideas. As for the services I availed, I asked Tricia to produce items for my civil wedding and reception. She put together our own personal monogram, place cards, menus, thank you cards and even the design for our wedding favours! I wish I could post her creations and show everyone how she assembled the final package! It was so divine!

Tricia knew I was very fussy with the little things, so she made sure that the final package was impeccable! Tricia, thank you so much for all of your help. We only communicated through viber and e-mail, but nonetheless you made everything so easy for me. I just want to say that you're a very beautiful and talented young lady. You have so much potential! The best is yet to come my dear. Cheers!“

- Romela Villaspir