sorry i could not resist another post

Coffee Shop (Epilogue)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven| Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Epilogue

[Author note: Hey guys, I couldn’t resist writing a little end to my first fanfiction! Sorry it is quite a bit later than my other parts but I wanted to get it right! Thanks for reading, and I might be posting another fic soon: when I am less busy with uni work!] 

You stood at the side of the stage, slightly obscured by the curtains that lined the wings, and watched where he was on stage.

He was answering questions, smoothly replying with charismatic and interesting answers, laughing warmly at all the right times and acting a little goofy at points. You could see the crowd in front of him completely won over, and you couldn’t help by feel a small proud smile begin to form on your face as you followed him with your eyes. 

As if he could feel your gaze, Chanyeol shot a glance to the side of the stage, his eyes searching, a small frown playing about his face, until he found where your half hidden figure stood. 

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Peeta Mellark x Reader. Requested.

Requested. Yes!!! Hunger Games OneShot: you are a victor and you live in the victors village and you need to go down to the bakery and that’s when you meet Peeta and he acts all shy and adorable around you and you asked for a certain type of bread and he says that you’ll have to come in the next day. So the next day there’s a huge storm and you can’t go but Peeta comes all the way from the bakery to your house to give it to you and you invite him in until the storm passes and it’s really cute and fluffy?? I sorry I know it’s a lot.-craving-horans-hug


I hate my life.

I sleep on a bed made of clouds, in a room that is far more lavish than most can afford in district 12, in a house that is way too big for one person, especially a young girl like myself. And the so called village I live in barely holds any life as only two people live in it.

I live in the Victor Village of district 12 where the only other person is Haymitch Abernathy, the victor of the 50th Hunger Games, 21 years before I won at the age of 15.

But as I know well, anyone who lives through the hunger games, sure as hell wishes that they had died and this burden went to another.

Yes, we get money, and a house, fine dining and expensive clothes but the cons outweigh the pros. The nightmares and guilt of the people I had killed killed or watched die, the capital treating the victors like puppets or objects like Finnick O'Dair , a major show pony as Haymitch says, all thanks to the capital, the victory tours, watching those mentored die, the pitying glances and hushed whispers.

That morning I did the usual routine. Clawing out of bed, washing off the layer of sweat that formed from last night’s nightmare, getting dressed in uncomfortable but fashionable clothing and making sure Haymitch hadn’t drunken himself into a coma overnight.

After force feeding Haymitch, much like one would a child, I headed back home, noticing the rather large storm clouds forming overhead. Grabbing a book from my mantle, i curled up on the couch and read while the flames from the fire place gave me light and a source of warmth, eventually I was lulled to sleep.

My heart hammered in her chest as she ran. My legs felt numb, barely keeping me up but I was still able to feel the stinging sensation of sticks and pine branches that scratched their way at my skin. I wasn’t running away from something, I was running towards something. Screams.

There was only three tributes left. The boy from 4 and the boy from twelve, who came in with me. I helped the boy from 12 as he was friends with my little sister who had died of starvation. She had three other allies, both tributes from 11 and the boy from 10. They’re all dead.

Coming to a clearing I saw Cole and the boy from 4. The boy from 4 had a spear aimed at Cole’s stomach. He dodged the first blow, but not the second. The boy from 4 pierced Cole’s stomach with his spear before pulling it out and stabbing the young boy in the heart. Not even realising what I was doing, I picked up a discarded spear and threw it at the boy, he turned to face me as it went through his right lung. A cannon sounded.

Jolting awake, I realised that somebody was knocking at the door. Picking up my book, that had fallen to the floor, I stood up and headed towards the door, noticing the snow storm outside, I wondered who’d be here during a storm like this. My feet padded through the hall until I reached the door. To my surprise Peeta Mellark is standing on the opposite side of the door.

“Peeta? What are you doing here?” I asked pulling him inside.

“My father told me you ordered some bread, so I brought it to you.” He said handing my the bread wrapped in paper and giving me a small grin.

“Peeta you’re crazy. I didn’t expect you, or anybody else for the matter, to come during a freaking snow storm!” I explained, hands flapping widely as I gestured. “Come on, warm yourself up.” I continued before walking into my lounge room, looking for Peeta to follow.

“Stay here.” I commanded Peeta once we reached the lounge room.

“Yes, ma'am.” I heard as I walked into the kitchen.

Letting myself smile I placed the bread on the counter and cut a few pieces before grabbing some tea I had made the previous night and pouring the remainder into two tea cups before heading back into the lounge room to see Peeta without his gloves on and sitting by the fire trying to warm up his freezing hands.

“You truly are crazy Peeta.” I said as I passed Peeta some tea before placing mine down on the table with the bread.

“Thank you for the tea, (y/n).” He paused for a second before crinkling his eyebrows and continuing. “Are you alright (y/n)? You seem a little….frazzled?” I gave him a question look before he gestured down to my hands which I hadn’t realised were shaking.

“Umm, yeah I’m fine. Just had a nightmare, that’s all. ” I sad giving him a sweet smile and placing my hands behind my back.

“Tell me about it.” Peeta saying giving me a kind smile and taking my hands. And that’s how it started, I told him my nightmare which somehow ended up, us both in the couch, his arm wrapped around my small form and my head buried into his warm chest, tea and bread long forgotten.

“I was terrified in the games, Peeta. Everyone thinks that I was brave and the only time I ever showed weakness was when Cole died, when I won. But I was so scared the entire time.” I said just above I whisper.

“You and me both. I was terrified for you when you were in the games. I tried to ignore it best I could, I couldn’t bare to watch you suffer. I didn’t know what I’d do if you had died.” Peeta confessed while stroking my hair.

I sat up and looked at him in surprise. Peeta and I had been friends in school sure but we’ve all seen people we know die in the games. “Why?”

Peeta let out a chuckle, his hand moving to cup my face. “I thought it’d be obvious by now. I love you (y/n). Have ever since we were kids.”

“Wait but….Katniss.?” I said surprise, thinking like most people,that he loved Katniss.

Peeta laughed again, not just a chuckle, a full laugh. After calming down he shook his head. “I never loved Katniss.” He said stroking my cheek. “It’s always been you.”

I stare into his eyes, seeing nothing but adoration, than my eyes wonder down to his lips and than back up to his eyes. What I said next surprised me.

“Kiss me.”

Peeta leaned down and placed his lips on mine in a gentle kiss before reaching behind my neck and pulling me closer to him. My heart swells at the action. And suddenly everything makes sense.

“Ever since I’ve been in the games, everybody asked me why I was so determined to survive. I could never think of the answer.” I say looking into Peeta’s eyes. “I thought about you so much during the games. I imagined you watching me, I did what I thought you’d want me to do. And ever since I got back the thought of seeing you made me calm down after a nightmare. How could I have been so stupid to never realise that I’m in love with you?”

Peeta smiled and pulled me in for another kiss. My arms wrapped around his neck while his went to my waist pulling me in top of him.

“I love you (y/n). Nothing will ever change that.”

“Not even Katniss?” I say cheekily.

“Not even Katniss.” He says before pulling me into yet another kiss.


(I’m sorry it took so long to post but I’ve been doing Naplan & Half Yearlies all this week after getting back so I haven’t been able to finish it. And I couldn’t resist putting that foreshadowing at the end. :) I hope you enjoyed and it was worth the wait.)

Writing Killer Stanford Supplements #3: What Matters to You, and Why?

In Part 1, I cracked open the black box of Stanford’s Intellectual Vitality Essay (IVE); in Part 2, I coaxed the Letter to Your Roommate Essay (LTYRE) to give up its stubborn secrets. Today, I will use flattery and chocolate to get Stanford’s What Matters to You and Why Essay (WMWE) to hand over the goods.

The Prompt:

What matters to you, and why?

Yep. That’s it. Simple prompt, simple answer, right?

Well, sort of. Or not really. Hm, actually, no, no, not at all.

Like the LTYRE, the WMWE has no template, no mold in which to pour the batter of your imagination (kind of a gross metaphor, sorry). This essay requires real thought and reflection. 

If your first instinct is to answer like this…

… then you are not thinking or reflecting. You are practicing the intellectual equivalent of watching a thirty-minute infomercial because the remote is just out of reach.

Try a little harder.

In fact, try a lot harder, because there is no easy way out of thinking. Thinking is hard.

Here’s what you can do to get started.

First, notice that there are two parts to the prompt:

1. The What

2. The Why

Let’s start with The What.

Go here, and scroll down to Exercise 3, The Values Diptych. Take 10 minutes to do the exercise, and come back. 

Ready? OK.

In the righthand column you should have listed several values and qualities. What I want you to do now is list 10 more, but focus on the values in particular. What is important to you? What objects, people, ideas, memories, concepts, experiences, historical moments matter to you? 

Here are some value categories to choose from:

commitment, leadership, family, trust, creativity, intelligence, community, independence, curiosity, first impression, open-mindedness, success, considerateness….

I could list 100 more, but you know what would be better? If you did! 

Next, I want you to start eliminating the ones that matter less than the others. I know, painful, nigh impossible even! But do it anyway. Keep chipping away at your list until you have only one or two values left. These are your core values - The What that matters to you most - and this is what you should be focusing on in your WMWE.

Now for The Why.

Why do these things matter to you so much? This is where the real reflection begins. You have to probe into your belief system, your world view, your Weltanschauung (such a cool word). You have to ask yourself, in other words, why do I care about this? 

Here’s what you can do to get your thoughts flowing. Turn the Values Diptych over, and on the back start to free-write about what your core values mean to you: When did they develop and why? Was there an experience that volcanically disgorged these values, or a series of experiences that slowly nurtured them to life and strength?

Values are not born in a vacuum. Like everything else, they came from somewhere, and this essay demands that you discover the origin story of your value system, and share it.

Now you can see why I described this essay as the heaviest of the three Stanford supplements. It’s existential. That doesn’t mean it can’t be funny or plainspoken. But it does mean that it has to be real, authentic, true, personal, and thoughtful. 

Now for an example:

My family doesn’t have the sort of structure you might expect, with a white picket fence and a nightly family dinner, but we do have a deep commitment to one another’s passions. I grew up in Ann Arbor, Michigan, a university-town where my parents weren’t often home. My earliest memories were of my grandparents taking care of me and of my brother, 9 years my elder, lobbing snowballs at me in the backyard.

However, when I was ten, my family split apart. My mother, a scientist with Pfizer, was relocated to San Diego, California, while my brother stayed behind at the University of Michigan. At the same time, my father moved to China to pursue his career in management, and my grandparents went with him. My mom suddenly became a single parent and I an only child.

Through this transition, we supported each other’s goals, but an even bigger obstacle loomed: my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer, and my grandmother with Alzheimer’s. Everyone came together to help them, and my own desire to protect and support them led me to pursue such activities as studying cancer metastasis and hospital work.

The wounds that we endure eventually heal, and the heart of my family is as strong as ever. Today, my mother is in remission and I can’t wait for the coming weeks when I’ll get to see my family in China. Despite the hardships, I know what matters to me: the constant support that we give each other

This student’s values are clear: they are not only explicitly stated in the final sentence, but also implicitly shown throughout. The family bond, togetherness, support, determination and focus in the face of hardship. This student also writes a successful “cancer essay,” a genre that can all too easily slide into cliche and sentimentalism. This essay does neither.

“But my life is so boring and normal!” you cry, frustrated at the injustice of having had such a peaceful, pleasant, untroubled life. Oh, the humanity!

(Couldn’t resist the sarcasm, sorry.)

Here’s the thing. You could be Buddha post-nirvana and still have things that matter to you worth talking about. Having a good life is not the same thing as having no values. One student I worked with wrote about long walks she liked to take; another wrote about comic books. The point is to reflect on why these activities or hobbies or beliefs are meaningful to you. 

Reflect. Think. These are your key words. They’re also some of the most rewarding activities you’ll ever do, and I highly recommend making a habit of them.

The 822 Word Fic

For Luck
Rated G, no warnings, well maybe for some caulk-related humor, based on this prompt from itsalwaysfour: any chance we could get another way Oliver and Felicity use a bath tub? Thanks for all of the great prompts I got; some of them I still might write! This one just…I couldn’t resist. And no, the answer isn’t blow-jobs. I’m sorry. I present to you, the 822 words I needed to make 100,000 words posted in the first three months of 2014. PS - this is part of the Rub-A-Dub-Dub series.

It wasn’t the hum of a power drill that he had to follow to find her, but the sound of humming in general. She didn’t bring her music player on these jobs because of onsite awareness, as Marty the Habitat for Humanity rep called it, but a lack of music never stopped her from making her own. When he found her, Oliver stood in the doorway to what would be the Ligurzas’ upstairs bathroom, crossed his arms, and grinned.

The best thing about volunteering for Habitat was her pink hard hat (now covered in plaster dust), and he would happily carry that secret to his grave.

She spotted him and jumped. “We’ve talked about you making a noise when you move around me,” she said, pointing the caulk gun at him.

“My bad,” Oliver said, though he kept grinning. “You almost done? Marty says the crews are about to knock off for the night. We’re invited to beers with everybody else.”

“Hmm, tempting, but we may need to pass. Sara’s done the patrols the last two nights, so she probably needs a break. I’m almost done, just one seam left. That’s my water on the counter there if you’re thirsty.” She knelt to the task again, humming once more. They’d originally started volunteering for different organizations around town because Queen Consolidated needed some serious community outreach, and Oliver still wasn’t sure why it had been Habitat 4 Humanity that had stuck, but this was their third house. Diggle usually tagged along and brought AJ with him and even Sara had shown up for a build or two. It was nice, as Felicity put it, to sometimes get out of their vigilante heads and do something quasi-normal for a change.

Oliver leaned over and snagged the water bottle, taking a gulp. “Nice work on the sink,” he said.

“Thanks. I’m getting the hang of it. Maybe I’ll quit secretarial work and become a full time caulker. Think I’ve got a future in it?” She grinned over her shoulder. There was a smudge of white paint on her cheek right by her hairline that Oliver found absolutely diverting.

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justanotherfiveminutes  asked:

I've finally found the prompt post again. Can I request another? "Just five more minutes" klaus to Caroline. Couldn't resist, sorry!

Thanks for the request justanotherfiveminutes! I enjoyed writing this :) Though I’m pretty sure I keep writing Klaroline in bed recently. Oops :P

                                                                                              

Try as she might, Caroline could never crawl out of Klaus’ embrace without waking him. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t keep trying, but she would have thought the exasperation she felt momentarily when he stirred at the first sign of her leaving would have diminished by now. If there was one thing about him that was true, it was that he was always alert. Awake or asleep, she had discovered, Klaus’ sense of self-awareness never lessened.

“Where are you going?” he asked, voice deep and husky, and half muffled by the pillow his cheek was pressed into. The arm around her waist tightened, hand clutching at her hip, as he sleepily blinked up at her.

“I have to leave. I have an early lecture and I need to go back to mine to change first,” she replied, keeping her words low so not to disturb the peacefulness the early morning held, even in a place like the French Quarter right outside the windows.

Running a hand through his hair, she smiled victoriously to herself when he smiled back lazily and allowed his eyes to droop shut as he buried his face back into his pillow. He laid on his front, one arm tucked under his head with his legs stretched out along the entirety of his side of the bed. Caroline loved taking him in as he slept. It was a side of him no one else got to see. He looked younger when he slept; the thousand years vanishing in one simple act to allow her a glimpse of the 23 year old man he was underneath.

“You have clothes here,” Klaus said matter-of-factly.

“I’ve worn them all, and everything else has been destroyed,” Caroline pointedly reminded him, hissing slightly towards the end in reprimand for his repeated actions of tearing off her clothes in the prelude of their passions.

“I’d apologise but I wouldn’t mean it,” he answered nonchalantly, pulling her closer into him (which was the complete opposite to what she needed to do right then) and nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. “Just five more minutes.”

“No,” she said strictly, leaning her head back and making sure to keep her hands on his shoulders in a show of pushing him away. His lips brushed against her skin continuously until there was no way of denying how awake he was or how he was trying to seduce her to stay by peppering her neck with kisses. Huffing, she admonished him, “Five is never five.”

“Then make it 10,” he stated slyly, with a smirk to match on his beautiful features and full lips as he pulled back to catch her eyes.

“I can’t,” she emphasised, adding her own pout when he reacted in the same manner. Taking advantage of his sullen mood, she quickly managed to shuffle away and sit up until the only hold he had on her was a hand around her thigh. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to be late. I’ll pop back later if I can. I have so much housework to do, too.”

“I don’t see the point of you having your own place, love. We spend almost every night together as it is, and its mostly here,” Klaus all but grumbled when she finally slipped out of his grip and to the edge of the bed.

“Its closer to campus,” she reasoned, picking up his discarded top from the night before by her feet and slipping it on.

“This is only another 20 minutes,” he countered, turning onto his back and pushing himself up against his pillows so he could lounge lazily against the headboard. There was a slight pause where she moved to stand up when he suddenly spoke up to add, “You should move in.”

Freezing, Caroline twisted around to stare at him incredulously. He looked so innocent and unfazed by the sudden proposal which would undoubtedly take their relationship to the next level. Elbows pressed into the mattress on either side of him with his hands resting lighting on his stomach, he merely gazed back expectedly as she couldn’t help but take a moment to simply blink in disbelief. They had been together (officially) for over two years now, but when the timescale was forever, was that a decent pace before moving forwards?

Seriously?” she gasped, still shocked at his suggestion.

“Yes,” Klaus replied curtly with a nod, furrowing his brow as he admitted, “I always thought you would when you came down to New Orleans.”

Caroline couldn’t deny the thought had passed through her mind at first, when she had turned up on his doorstep with a couple (or ten) bags and a sunny smile asking if his offer to be her last love still stood. They had had a whirlwind romance as he lived up to his other promise of taking her wherever she wanted to go; London to Rome, by the way of Paris (Tokyo had to wait on account of her college semester starting at Tulane). They had settled into a somewhat ‘normal’ relationship once her classes had started and they had found themselves apart for the first time in three months since her arrival in his city. His home had never been hers for longer than a handful of days at a time, so the thought of moving in with him had passed quickly. Until now.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she questioned, curious, because Klaus wasn’t the kind of man to keep his desires to himself. After all, he did try and court her for two years whilst she was with Tyler.

“Because you had your plans. You already knew where you wanted to look for an apartment, and what kind of place you wanted,” he told her with a shrug to play off the emotions she could see whirling just beneath his stoic exterior. But she knew him better than that (than anyone by now) and she could detect the hint of disappointment he had kept hidden for her happiness. However, the mask slipped soon enough when he gave her a soft smile. “I couldn’t deny you that. You were so excited.”

Smiling brightly, she fought down the lump that formed in her throat and urged away the fluttering butterflies breaking into dance in her stomach at the truth behind his words. Finally, she had someone who put her first and for whom she was the one. Klaus was a selfish man, but when it came to her happiness, he compromised; evidently, sometimes without her knowledge. The simple, pure and adulterated love she felt for him swelled inside her for the millionth time since she had known him, allowing her to love like she never knew she could.

“I would have been just as excited to be here,” Caroline said honestly, reaching out to cover his hands with one of her own. “Thank you for giving me the choice, though. Living by myself has been fun and different. I think I needed it.”

“Of course,” he brushed off, capturing her hand between his in one easy sleight of hand. Tugging gently, he forced her to bend a knee up onto the mattress so she could lean in towards him as he slowly licked his lips and informed her, “You know if you move in, that’s it, right? I won’t let you move out again.”

Swallowing at both his sensual actions and the words of an ultimatum, she nodded. “I know,” she said, understandingly.

Klaus nodded back, eyes boring into hers with a dark heat and a small hint of nervousness she rarely ever got to see in him. “And?”

Pursing her lips, Caroline tilted her head before offering him a gentle smile and a squeeze of the hand. “Can I think about it?”

“Sure,” he breathed out, and she could see the relief fill his being by the way his shoulders slumped and his features lightened up. But there was still a hint of edginess to his tone, and she instantly worried that he might mistakenly take her early morning apprehension as rejection. Luckily for her, however, Klaus seemed to know her as well as she claimed to know him. “Caroline, its ok. Take your time; think it through. The offer stands for whenever you want.”

Sighing in reassurance, she crawled up onto the bed until she could lean over him and press her lips to his in a sweet yet passionate kiss. She curled a hand around the back of his neck whilst keeping another on the pillow under him to balance herself. Her sleep tousled hair fell around them to form a curtain, and she could feel his fingers thread through them until he was gently massaging her scalp in the most provocative way.

“I love you,” she murmured against his mouth when they parted. Giggling when he tried to keep her in place, she trailed her hand down to his chest until she could push herself away enough that he was forced to retract his hands. “Shoot! I’m late!” she gasped suddenly as she caught sight of the clock next to his bed.

“Well, if you’re already late…” Klaus began suggestively, hurriedly trying to grasp at her when she began to scramble off the bed.

“Haha, no,” Caroline deadpanned, managing to avoid his half-hearted attempted to reel her back into bed with a light slap to his hands as she scurried to her feet. “Klaus, seriously!

“Fine, fine. Go; leave,” he huffed, dramatically throwing himself back onto the bed and turning onto his side so he could snuggle back into his pillow. “Enjoy your class. I’ll just be in bed for another couple of hours.”

Throwing him a glare at his jealousy-evoking words, she scoffed when she saw the smirk pulling at his lips even as his eyes remained shut with his face half buried into the luxuriously soft and comfortable pillow. “I hate you,” she hissed before turning on her heel and making her way to the adjoining bathroom.

His words had formed an image in her mind which would only make her long day even longer, but luckily she had methods of pushing them aside. For today, it would be mentally moving her stuff into his room. She was a design major after all, and his room was large enough for her to make her presence known in every way she had ever wanted to.