Summary: Home is inked across her skin in deep indigo and silver white and Hinata thinks maybe that’s the point. That she brings home with her wherever she may walk, and that family is found anywhere, especially amongst riotous cascades of flowers that come sailing in from a shift in the wind. Pairing: NaruHina Prompt: Tattoo/flower shop au Chapter: 1 AN: A very happy (and belated) birthday fic to @annalovesfiction! (So sorry for being so late!) I give you this monstrously long first chapter to my first dedicated multi-chapter fic! I’m still terrified of this but, well, I just wrote 10k worth of words so maybe I’ll be ok. Apologies for any mistakes- I’m bad enough with just short drabbles, so this was a bit overwhelming to keep going through. Hope you enjoy! (Fanfiction.net) (AO3)
When Hinata got her first tattoo, she never expected that she would keep coming back until the entirety of her back, the slopes of her shoulders, and the landscape of her collarbones would be covered as well. She had never even planned to get even one tattoo.
She was sixteen and in mourning when she walked in.
A boy sketching idly behind the front counter looked up at the sound of the door opening and her attention was immediately drawn to the two red fangs curving down over his cheeks. He was a rough composition of messy brown hair and layered torn t-shirts revealing intricate tattoo sleeves covering his arms. Black eyes reflecting the little light in the dimly lit room followed her halt in the middle of the doorway, a feral beast waiting in the dark. She wondered who was more surprised by the other here.
“You here for a tattoo?” he finally asked when it was apparent she wasn’t going to speak.
She wasn’t even supposed to be here at all, but she nodded instead, not trusting her voice. Her grip loosened on the doorknob before taking a step, then two into the darkness.
The room was warm, and she found the dark was not nearly as foreboding as she feared.
It’s very sad that many people don’t know much about Desi Arnaz. He didn’t get any single recognition, any award nominations such as Emmy award(s) and a AFI Life Achievement Award for his important roles in I Love Lucy and many other shows that he helped produced/directed. I still don’t understand why he was so overlooked and underrated. His acting and musical style was absolutely phenomenal throughout the series of I Love Lucy. He was an amazing actor when acting with Lucy on screen.
He had great comedic timing whenever Lucy did something, his facial expressions, or by the way he mis-spoke the English language before any one would correct him, plus twisting the Spanish and English language throughout the series (you should watch him do his monologue of “The Little Red Riding Hood” to Little Ricky, it’s absolutely outstanding!). Along with that, he would ad-lib the most brilliant and such a quick way whenever he and other characters would get stuck on their line to help them to get on with the scene. The scene where Ricky finds out that Lucy is going having a baby after eleven years of marriage is one of the unforgettable episodes of all time, it’s very emotional and so beautiful because it was twisted with reality. It brought back memories of how he and Lucy found out about that they were going to have a daughter (Lucie) after trying to have a child for a decade. As the camera zooms in, you can see it clearly that Desi’s eyes are welling up with tears as he sings, “when the bough breaks - the cradle will fall…” He stops himself, with his mouth agape in a surprise, and he gulps nervously. Then he slowly looks over to Lucy, who is beaming and nods her head happily at him. It’s one of his best acting moments in the series.
Desi was so incredibly talented when comes to music. He was like a Spanish version of Elvis Presley on the television and movies. Spanish music was becoming more exposed and evident here in the states because Desi brought the music and the most known dance steps, the conga line (YES - THE CONGA LINE!) from Cuba and Miami. At first, he joined a small rumba band named Siboney Septet in Miami. Then, short time later - Xavier Cugat was there at a tea dance, very impressed with Desi’s works and wanted him to audition. He worked with Xavier Cugat in Miami and New York then across the country til the late 1930’s. Finally started touring across the country during the 1940’s (especially USO Tours) with his own orchestra. Even in the movies, that he was in Too Many Girls (Don’t forget, he was in the Broadway version too in 1939 after being praised by the writers and directors who saw him performing in clubs!), Cuban Pete, Holiday in Havana, also used it in his vaudeville acts with his wife Lucy (to win the audience and members of the tv executives to do a tv pilot) and in several episodes of I Love Lucy for example. In each of those films or movies, plus television - you can see how passionate he was with music. His smooth voice croons “Babalu” in Spanish as he bounces his hands on the conga drum, and letting out a shout of “Ole” and “Yeah” as he moves swiftly across the stage with conga movement and kick. As the orchestra music swells behind him - now he bangs the drum fervently, with his hair more mussed and unbuttoned shirt slightly open with his bowtie hung around his neck, and then looks up as if there were some Spanish gods looking upon him. He intensifies up his drumming even faster as if it was a climax of the story and still continues it until the orchestra brings up the tempo to finish the song. It’s just incredible to watch Desi.
The amount of work behind the camera that Desi did was unspeakable. He was the president of Desilu Studios (now the Hollywood Center Studios). He was the one who supported/produced the shows - “The Lucy Show”, “The Andy Griffith Show”,“Star Trek”, “The Untouchables” and “Whirlybirds”. Without him, we wouldn’t have a classic television shows that had memorable characters that we once grew up with. “I was always amazed at your grasp of story as I would tell you our latest plot idea in between your going into a scene and buying RKO. I would talk as fast I could and you would say, "I think it needs something in the second act” and you would be right, or the way you would pick up a script and between your thumb and forefinger and say, “It’s this much too long” and you were right again" - Madelyn Pugh, the writer of I Love Lucy recalls in her letter to Desi in 1986. He would do everything he can to make everything right - including costumes, props and lighting. He was the one who thought of using three cameras all at once, instead of using one single camera throughout the episode while performing live front of an audience. Also, he was the one who invented - the re-runs of the episodes (like we do today) when Lucy was on maternity leave with Desi Jr. Like what Lucy had said, before or after their divorce or even his death, that he should have all the credit. He literally broke barriers for Spanish music artists and actors we now see today in the music/television/movie industry. If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have the spice in the melting pot here in the states!
Leelah, things have changed so much since you’ve been gone. I wish I would have known you! You were such an amazing person I would have been lucky to know you! Today would have been your 18th birthday! I’m sorry your parents couldn’t accept you. You were such a beautiful and wonderful person. They should have realized what a gift you were. Rest in Power darling beautiful girl, and Happy Birthday.
Well I said I’d make you a present sometime later this week but I realised that I have exam revision to get done (lol jks, I’ll still be on tumblr procrastinating because I’m a rebel :P) So I made you something- which is bad because I made it quickly and the whole Akshay Katrina thing has been done a million times by much more brilliant editors than me (but alas, you love them so I decided why not :P). Anywho, I love you so very very much darling. You are legit one of the kindest people on here. I can’t believe you’re 21, boy, my baby’s growing up fast :’) I wish you all the very best for the future darlin’, ‘cause you definetly deserve it. And remember, I’ll always love you <3
A/N: Happy Birthday to you my darling girl! You’ve touched my life with your beautiful art and blessed me so much with your friendship! Here’s to many more birthdays to come and endless amounts of shenanigans for future Van trips! ;)) P.S. May your day be full of Canadian black squirrels and suburban bears! Xx
Some mornings she swears he’s twelve. Like when he hogs all the blankets in the middle of the night, rolling himself up into a burrito and leaving not even a corner of it for her, grumbling about bloody pirates when she attempts to steal some of it back because the early hours are the coldest, or when he sprawls out like he needs all the space in the world just to get some sleep, centering himself so she’s pushed to the very edge of the bed, his arm and leg thrown unceremoniously across her body.
Sometimes he leaves the empty milk carton in the fridge, or forgets to put the cap back on the toothpaste after he’s brushed his teeth, or eats all of the marshmallows — just the marshmallows — in the Lucky Charms box while he sits in front of the TV and watches cartoons on Saturday mornings.
Some days she doesn’t want him to be twelve, she wants him to be three centuries old and warm and naked in her bed, showing her exactly what kind of experience he’s amassed in his unnaturally long life across realms. Those are the mornings she rouses herself from sleep, curling their duvet around herself then trudging into the living room where she plops herself in his lap and buries her face into his neck. Most of the time it works, after a few coaxing nips to the underside of his jaw and the trail of her fingers down the front of his sleep shirt, but the rest of the time it doesn’t and she has to resign herself to drifting back to sleep, curled up against him, with the sound of his amused laughter over the antics on the moving picture box in her ear and the feel of his hand soothing up and down her spine (a true hardship indeed, honestly).
Once in awhile, she’ll come and join him with no other intention other than to sit and watch cartoons with him, grabbing a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch — dry, to snack on for breakfast — and tucking her bare feet under his thigh, wiggling her toes just to get him to raise a warning brow at her. She hides her smile behind her cereal, or sometimes she doesn’t hide it at all, insistently wiggling her toes until he’s advancing on her, pressing her back into the cushions as his fingers dig into her ribs and the sound of her laughter resounds through the room, amplified only by the cereal that goes flying all over the couch as the battle begins.
(Tickle fights often result with them tangled together on the floor, his breath warm against her ear as he politely asks if she’s ready to concede — of course she’s not, the way she hooks her leg around his and swiftly rolls him under her, a wicked, wicked gleam in her eyes as she sits up and lightly drags her fingers from stomach to ribs says as much.)
They’re mostly well-behaved when Henry’s home, foregoing cereal and cartoons for scrambled eggs and pancakes in the kitchen, sneaking kisses behind his back and making eyes at each other when Henry groans and drops his head onto the kitchen table, whining about how early it is and to just let him make his own breakfast if they’re so intent on ruining it before he’s even had it. Killian merely drops a final kiss to her cheek, winking at her as he steps away and moves towards the table to ruffle her son’s hair before he takes his seat. (It makes her heart skip a beat to see Henry’s affection for Killian masked behind a half-hearted eye roll.)
Occasionally he’ll slip from their bed just before the break of dawn, soundlessly preparing for the day while she drifts in and out of sleep. She catches bits of him — the bare expanse of back as he shrugs on a shirt, the way he combs his fingers through his hair (mussing it up more than smoothing it down), the soft glances and softer smiles he sends her way while he buttons up his shirt or slips on his boots as he sits by her hip on the bed.
She’ll roll onto her stomach to get closer, slip her hand under his jacket, drag her nails across his lower back and try to entice him back under the covers. He’s rather difficult to lure though when he’s promised Henry a day on the water, and he’ll simply lean over her and press a lingering kiss to her shoulder, promising to return at sunset with her favored grilled cheese and onion rings from Granny’s.
Good, she’ll smile sleepily. She gets a playful little nip to her shoulder for her sass and she responds by reaching back to flick at the tip of his nose. His quiet chuckle pushes her towards her dreams, and she thinks she hears a sleep well, Swan or a dream of me, but it could just be in her head (she definitely hears I love you near her ear and she definitely cracks open an eye to watch him leave before she settles in for a few more hours of sleep).
(When he comes home, she wraps her fingers around the charms of his necklace and lightly pulls him down for a gentle kiss to his lips. She whispers the words back, delighting in the way his mouth turns up at the corners and how his eyes crinkle before he’s kissing her again.)
Her favorite mornings are the ones where she wakes before him, where she can watch him sleep and trace the lines of his face with her gaze, her fingers itching to brush away the hair falling over his brow or feel the scrape of his scruff beneath her fingertips. She lets him sleep for a little while, undisturbed, until she can’t resist waking him up in some inventive way, dying to hear the noise he makes in the back of his throat when he comes to and he realizes his body is already leagues ahead of his brain.
When it storms, they lie in bed for hours — hands easy against skin, kisses lazy and tender, floating over the edge into a starlit oblivion with the gentle roll of his hips into hers. It’s perfect and everything. He is everything.
It makes her smile wide, these somehow ‘routine’ mornings they’ve developed over the last year, makes her feel warm and light all over, the happiest she’s been in…ever. She thought it would be strange, falling into this simple domesticity with Killian, but really, she should have known better, known that they would have slipped as seamlessly into it as they had into each other once her walls had come down.
They don’t get this kind of quiet whenever another crisis strikes though, mornings shortened by the urgent rush of meetings or stakeouts or investigations or research, but even if there’s only time for Pop-Tarts or bear claws and coffee to-go, there’s always time for kisses and the way his hand always falls to the small of her back in silent comfort, rubbing soft circles before they meet the day head-on.
Sometimes he’s insistent about it, turning off her phone before passing her a mug of hot chocolate, eyebrow arched high, practically daring her to do anything but enjoy it. She accepts it with a grateful smile and a peck on the lips. She settles in with a quiet sigh when he draws her into the circle of his embrace, and while she loves him all the time, she loves him most in the mornings, just like this.
An early happy birthday to my darling @mothsbymoonlight! I’m actually a bit self conscious about this one because things kept happening while I was trying to record but this was the only full recording I was able to pull off lksdfjhdfg BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS SAPPY BALLAD…..
And Bee…you enjoy being older than me for a month dammit
I have been writing to you for a year now I think! Happy birthday to our darling girl. Gorgeous, talented, on top of the world!
But we’re not the only ones to think that! I am sure she is celebrating with people dearest to her. Just the way we should spend our birthdays!
R: Happy birthday beautiful
K: it’s not my birthday. Aren’t you going a little overboard with all your PRE birthday stuff? The flowers, the cake?
R: it is in SOME part of the world
K: you are such a dork
R: maybe I just want to celebrate you more than one day. That’s why we had pre-birthday cake
K: I think you just wanted an excuse to eat cake
R: I don’t need an excuse to eat YOU
K: OMG SHUT UP! Seriously that is all you think about
R: and if you think that will change you are mistaken
K: did I say I wanted that to change? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
R: oooooooh see you’re getting smart in your old age
K: very funny
R: did you see what Twitter did?
K: do I even want to know?
R: for your birthday. Do you know how much money they raised? Like over $20,000. I haven’t looked tonight. Maybe more
K: Shut up. You’re gonna make me cry. No way
R: honey it’s amazing. Do you know how many people love you? Of course no one loves you as much as I do
K: omg NO WAY.
R: yes way
K: I can’t believe it. That is so fucking awesome. Seriously?
R: You inspire people. Why can’t you see that?
K: that makes me so happy. I have the best fans. They totally rock, Damn
R: hey on my way I’m bringing ice cream
K: mint chip I hope?
R: is there any other kind?
K: LOL No! Hey you have to stop giving the dogs cake. And SOMEONE else. There was cake all over the floor from the 4 of them
R: any mess that SOMEONE else makes the dogs will clean up
K: I still can’t believe Twitter did that. That is just so cool
R: they have some birthday ideas of things I should get you
K: oh really? Like what?
R: a coffee maker for one
K: HAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SHUT UP
R: no really. They are most concerned that you go out for coffee so often
K: I thought that was the highlight of their day
R: oh it is. Guess they would be disappointed if I bought you a coffee maker
K: you have given me the best gift. I don’t need anything else
R: I like getting things for you
K: I know sweetie. The flowers are gorgeous
R: YOU’RE gorgeous. I have more surprises
K: OK those bags from Saks? They’ve been sitting over there for days so yeah I’m curious
R: well it’s not Chanel glasses
K: ha ha
R: I remember the first birthday I spent with you
K: you gave me a guitar. That was amazing
R: I wrote you a song. I’ll sing it for you tomorrow
K: you did??? DUDE! ok that’s gonna make me cry too. I can’t wait. I love you
R: I know you do but I love you more
So sweet Maya
I can’t wait to see Sils Maria. I love our promo girl! Still have the Chanel shoot coming up. So much to look forward to.
She is on top of the world but the best thing is knowing that she shares her world with the ones she loves.
It’s going to be OK