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avocado-writing · 9 months ago

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If you’re still open for prompts, can we get Tav to bring Astarion for shopping, claiming she has no fashion sense, but in truth it’s to make him buy something for himself?

I don’t know if you’ve seen the free cam screenshots, but the inside of Astarion’s test is bleak and messy, and in the lower city camp he’s hanging filthy rags to dry above his tent, like he’s so used to only focusing on his outerwear that he forgot he can actually get himself some nice towels and bedding for personal use.

notes: what a sweet request! i get so many lovely requests for astarion and it's what he deserves tbh.

words: <1k

rating: T

“I’m not sure why you need me to come with you. Apart from because you’re in need of my stellar company, of course,” Astarion sniffs.

“Well, you have the best taste in camp, and I trust you with this sort of thing. Besides, what were you really planning on doing today apart from irritating Gale?”

Astarion makes a show of putting in a bookmark and slamming his novel closed, looking up properly at where you’ve wandered over to him. He pretends to be a bit irked, but he wasn’t really paying attention to the words in front of him anyway - he was too busy sneaking glances up at you as you helped out around the camp. It’s something he’s been doing a lot recently. His eyes are drawn to you. He is drawn to you. Magnetised.

But that is far too raw-hearted and personal for you to know, so he’s desperately trying to hide his weakness for you beneath a layer of palette-knifed-on apathy. He suspects it isn’t working.

“Come on,” you continue, your pleading too sweet to be ignored, “it won’t take long. I just need to get a couple of bits for my tent, you know, to spruce it up. Please?”

Astarion groans. Secretly, he doesn’t mind. He’d quite enjoy it, actually. But if you know that then you suddenly have power over him, and the idea of letting someone have power over him again, even if it’s you, scares the unlife out of him.

Still, though. When your eyes are buttery-soft and there’s that furrow in your brow which comes with your sincere confusion, he feels his walls being shattered.

“Fine,” he groans, dramatically, “I suppose you do need some help picking out nice things. Let’s head off, then.”

He tries to ignore the way that his heart does a silly little leap when you light up at the idea.

And so, Astarion lets you drag him into Baldur’s Gate. He is once again overwhelmed with how much he missed the city - not during the times with Cazador, of course, but back in his youth, when he was able to stroll about and shop like this under his own free will. When he had a magistrate’s salary and a healthy portion of it could go on things like this, frivolous and fine things. Maybe he is a little bitter at first as you take him store-to-store, but he soon finds himself relaxing into the joy of a spree; when your hand tangles with his he lets you lead him around, quietly revelling in your delight as you leaf through linens and silks.

Your day together becomes a chorus of, “this one or this one?” holding up bedsheets for him to help you decide between, letting him make a lengthy decision as he tests threadcounts against his alabaster fingers. He helps you pick blankets, new soft towels for when you’re able to bathe (a luxury at the moment, but still…) some sweet-scented candles and incense for your tent to cover the smell of dirt caked into you all.

He suggests lavender. It’s his favourite.

At the end of the day he watches you count out gold onto the final merchant’s counter before taking a heavy woven tote full of your purchases. It feels like a satisfying venture has been had, but he still feels a bit hollow - after all, your hands are full, and his are achingly empty.

You stop when you clear the doorway back onto the street, and hold the bags to him.

“What? I’m not carrying your things for you. I’m not Karlach!” he says, appalled. You roll your eyes at him.

“I’m not making you my pack mule, Astarion. I doubt you could be - ” he’s about to interject and bite back at that little jab, but you barrel on regardless, “ - they’re a gift. This is all for you.”

He freezes. Blinks. Eyes drop down to the shopping as if it’s a Mimic, waiting for him to let his guard down so that it can eat his arm.

“All for me?”

You nod, and when he doesn’t move to take the handles, you gently open up his fingers like the petals of a flower and deposit them into his palm instead.

He feels the weight of the new things. Of his new things. He doesn’t know how to respond. His brain feels blank.

“I have money, you know,” he says, partly defending himself against your kindness, and partly against the idea that you might think he’s in need of charity. You sigh and cross your arms, a sure sign of not taking any of his nonsense right now.

“I know, and I am perfectly capable of giving you a gift because I think you deserve one. There is no trick here, Astarion. I just thought you should have a couple of new bits because you barely buy them for yourself. You’re allowed to have nice things, you know.”

Ah. That hurts him a bit, not because you’re being unkind, but because maybe you’re being truthful. His hands became used to a needle and thread by candlelight, to tiny neat stitches done with such precision it was difficult to notice that anything he mended was ever damaged at all. But he does not live that life any more. He can open himself to the possibility of being pampered again.

He likes that idea.

He retracts his arms, clutching the shopping to his body, as if he’s afraid that you’ll change your mind. You smile at him so brightly that he feels as if you are the sun.

“...Thank you,” he manages, eventually.

“Any time,” you say, and he knows you mean that.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget @hopeful-n-sad

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #request #my writing

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quite-right-too · 1 year ago

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Dona Nobis Pacem (Grant Us Peace) - Chapter Four

Summary: After preparing for the arrival of her new housemates, the last thing Rose expected was for one of them to be the man whose flat she had snuck out of the night before. Shoutout to @demdifferentstories-29 for being feral with me last night as we fucked around with this chapter a ton. This one was a lot of fun to write and just add little tidbits into.

Read here on AO3

The days went on and their friendship blossomed further. Hand holding became automatic, especially when sitting together on the couch. They were very tactile, with Rose pushing on his chest whenever he made a particularly bad joke or James wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close to him while they strolled around town as she showed him around.

Movie nights would lead to them being so close that Rose could feel James’ heartbeat — usually as they laid on the sofa lengthwise so they could see the television better, her back against his chest while she was situated between his legs. His arms were usually enveloped around her and his head rested on her shoulder.

Jack and Donna had definitely begun to take notice. Jack had started to tease him regarding his lingering gaze whenever Rose walked into the room. Banter from Donna usually included remarks of, ‘Head up in the clouds, Spaceman?’ and, ‘Bloody hell, just ask her out already!’ followed by a smack on the shoulder.

A routine had also begun to form — Rose would find James in the library and would join him on the couch. Sometimes they would read separate books, but he had recently offered to read to her. Rose knew she would be an idiot to turn down that chance with him. So here they were in the library, cuddling next to each other with her head against his shoulder as James read aloud And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie.

“Agatha Christie! I love her stuff! What a mind,” he had declared as he pulled the classic book from the shelf. “She fools me every time. Well, almost every time. Well, once or twice. Well, once. But it was a good once.”

His ramblings were endearing to her. She adored the spark in his eyes that he got when he talked about something he was passionate about. The smile on his face when she listened, asking questions and allowing him to elaborate more on the subject. There was no lack of topics, either — he always had something he could share with and teach her about. Even if she didn’t fully understand, she loved to hear his voice.

She loved him.

She had never felt this way with Jimmy. She had started dating him when she was sixteen and regretted it every second after they had broken up. He hadn’t been a romantic, never even taking Rose on a date once in the two years they dated.

“‘... Vera had followed Mrs. Rogers upstairs. The woman had thrown open a door at the end of a passage and Vera had walked into a delightful bedroom with a big window that opened wide upon the sea and another looking east. She—’ Rose, are you alright?” His question pulled her from her thoughts.

“Me? Yeah, I’m alright. Just thinking,” she said softly. Rose moved her head off his shoulder, offering him a small smile. He could see through her facade and raised his eyebrow. “Okay, fine. ‘M just remembering my last relationship and how awful he was to me. We never did anything like this,” she murmured, gesturing to the intimate position they found themselves in.

James’ head cocked, brow now furrowing. “What happened, if I may ask?” He set the bookmark in the book, shutting and setting it on the coffee table. His hand went to hold hers and she couldn’t help but open up to him.

“His name was Jimmy,” she started. “He was twenty, I was sixteen. He was a self-proclaimed musician with a guitar who travelled around London busking on the street.” Rose rolled her eyes as she remembered how much of an idiot he was. “He seemed so charming, but his personality changed after I’d run away from home and moved in with him. He kept me from my friends and family, trying to convince me that my mum was the bad guy after she had called and begged for me to come home.”

“Oh, Rose,” James sighed, squeezing her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s in the past. He just…” Rose trailed off, trying to find the best way of explaining her thoughts without revealing her true feelings for him. “He never did anything nice like this. Never really cuddled with me or spent actual time with me. I never—” She cut herself off, staring into his eyes and glancing down at his lips. His face was so close to hers now and he was right there with her, looking at her like she meant everything.

“You never what?” James questioned, his breath light against her lips. Her own breath hitched as she watched his tongue come out to wet his lips, his chocolate eyes impossibly dark.

“Just…” She couldn’t even come up with an answer. He was right there and looked so kissable. He began to lean in as his eyes fluttered closed.

‘He’s finally going to kiss me properly,’ Rose thought excitedly. Their noses brushed against each other as heat pooled in their stomachs.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

They jumped apart, and Rose mentally cursed whoever was on the other side of the door.

“Rosie, you in there?” Jack called out. “I need your help with grocery shopping. The list is long and I refuse to do this by myself.”

Rose sighed and straightened herself, standing up and walking over to the entryway.

“Coming!” she growled, trying to keep her cool while mouthing ‘sorry’ to James, whom she had left sitting on the couch. As the door closed behind her, he groaned, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Fuck,” he muttered. He was so close to feeling her lips on his.

The tension building between them was becoming unbearable for James. He found himself regularly taking cold showers and tinkering on his projects to distract himself from the burning ache that regularly appeared after interactions with Rose.

This time was different, though.

He knew he was alone, with Donna at work and Jack and Rose at the store. He quickly ran up the staircase to his bedroom and slammed the door closed. The door was locked, just as a precaution, and he quickly pulled his shirt off and his trousers down his legs.

“God, Rose,” he moaned, easing the waistband of his pants down to expose his hard length.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the night they met. How he drunkenly took her back to his flat. Seeing her naked for the first — and so far only — time on his bed. Well, not really his bed but it didn’t matter.

Sitting at the bar, James shot back another round of whiskey as the low bass of the music emanated from the speakers around him. The pub was dark aside from several small strobe lights illuminating the open area where people were dancing. He could barely hear himself think with all the noise.

Drinking at bars wasn’t necessarily something he took up often, but it was one of those nights. The thoughts of war swirling through his head recently had him walking on eggshells since he got home.

He was here to have fun, which he had to remind himself multiple times throughout the night. Even if that meant having multiple shots and getting a bit plastered. Tapping his glass on the surface, he got the attention of the woman behind the bar and she made her way over to pour him another shot.

A blonde woman called the bartender over, requesting another drink. Even in the low light, James could tell that her smile lit up rooms. Her top showed off plenty of skin and the tight jeans accentuated her nice arse.

Blimey, she was gorgeous.

And he wanted her.

She met his hungry gaze with a tongue-in-teeth smile before turning and disappearing into the crowd of clubbers. Not wasting another second wallowing in his head, James swallowed his fourth and final shot and made his way out onto the dance floor. His eyes darted around the bodies, looking for the mystery woman who now had all of his attention.

After bumping into multiple people, he finally found her. Her eyes were dark, full of passion and arousal and need. He needed to forget his past and somehow this brilliant woman wiped all thoughts except the ones of her. His feet moved to her before he even realised.

“Care to dance?” he asked with a smirk, holding out his hand. The woman’s eyes twinkled as she grinned. Taking his hand, she pulled him impossibly close, moulding her body to his.

“I’d love to.”

The music wasn’t traditional dancing music, but rather booming noise that had just enough rhythm to move your body to. The golden-haired goddess turned around and ground against him, her back to his chest. James moved his hands down to her hips, gripping tightly and keeping her against him. The growing tension between them was evident, hanging like thick smoke in the air.

As they danced, he pulled her against him as his hands wandered around her waist, down to the arse he had been admiring, and skirting just under her breasts. He grinned against her neck as she moaned, feeling it reverberate through his chest. His hips rutted against her, letting her feel the growing arousal in his trousers.

Reluctantly, she pulled herself from his grasp. She must have seen the panic in his eyes because she grabbed his hand with a mischievous look, leading him off the dance floor and towards the dark corner leading to the bathrooms. As soon as they were tucked away, she pushed James against the wall and snogged him, her hands threading themselves through his hair.

He kissed back enthusiastically, pulling her back to him — needing to feel someone close to him tonight. Their sloppy, drunken kisses continued for a few more minutes before James pulled away.

“Would you want to take this back to my place?” he panted harshly, begging the universe for the answer he wanted.

“God, yes. Please?”

The cab ride back to his flat wasn’t long, but it felt like ages as they struggled to keep their hands off of each other. However, he didn’t plan on shagging her in the backseat of this stranger’s car. Thankfully, they pulled up to his flat and James handed the cabbie two twenty pound notes and murmured to keep the change, too focused on the woman in front of him who wanted nothing more than to get naked with him.

Fumbling with his keys, they finally made it into the flat. He slammed the door behind them, thankful that Donna was out on girl’s night and would definitely be staying at her friend’s flat until the morning.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” he growled, pulling her along with him. Cardboard boxes turned the flat into a maze, making it difficult to tell which room was which, especially in the dark.

This was his last night in this flat — he intended to make it go out with a bang.

As soon as they made it into his room, they began divesting themselves of their clothes. James pulled his t-shirt off, revealing his bare chest. The woman in front of him, now wearing just a bra, walked up to him and ran her nails through his chest hair. He smiled, leaning down into another searing kiss. Her deft fingers went to work on his belt, undoing it and the button on his trousers before dipping her hand under the waistband and teasing him through his pants, eliciting a low groan from him.

He didn’t have any furniture aside from the mattress on the floor, everything having been moved out into the living room to make it easier for the movers to get out to the truck. He did, however, have sheets on the mattress — he wasn’t an animal. The room simply had moving boxes all over and the blinds were covering his window.

“These need to come off,” he whispered into her mouth, hands moving to tug at her jeans. While she stepped back and finished undressing, James worked on getting his trainers and trousers off. He was pleased to look up and see that she was naked, save for her knickers. Shit, she was beautiful.

Sauntering up to him, the blonde bit her lip as he removed the final piece of clothing, revealing his cock, hard and leaking with precome as he stared at the gorgeous before him.

“Looks like someone’s ready,” she laughed, pushing him lightly towards the mattress and gesturing for him to lay down. As he did so, he grabbed her hand, pulling her down with him.

“Lay on your back,” he demanded. He watched her thighs clench, the boldness she had fading away as she did what she was told. The dirty smile on her face as James crawled over her drove him wild. Pulling her knickers off her legs, he tossed them away. One of his hands trailed up her thigh as he urged her to open her legs for him to settle between. “God, I need you.”

She froze for a second, sitting up. “Wait, are you clean? Because I don’t have any condoms. ‘M on the pill but I—”

He immediately stopped, sitting up and gently looking her over. “I’m clean,” he reassured her, offering a small smile. “I don’t have any condoms, so if you’re not comfortable with this, we can stop. I can call you a cab and—” She shut him up with a kiss, leaning back and opening her legs so he could continue. A quiet growl rumbled through his chest as he slotted himself between her thighs.

“I want this. I want you. Please, just fuck me.” Her hand reached between them, grabbing his cock and running it through her wetness. They both groaned at the contact, James’ hips stuttered, causing him to slide between her lips. “Fuck, do that again,” she gasped, arms wrapping around his back as he repeated the movement.

He couldn’t wait any longer. “Ready?” he asked lowly, positioning himself at her entrance. She nodded, hands moving across his back and into his hair. James hissed at the contact, pushing in and feeling how tight she was. “Shit.” His head spun, reminding him that he was still a bit inebriated. He paused after sheathing himself in her, forehead dropping down to her shoulder as he gave her the moment to adjust and used the time to regain his bearings.

After a moment, he felt her relax and felt like he wouldn’t fall over. He tentatively pulled out, thrusting in with a little more speed. Her nails dug into his back as he repeated the movement. The only emotion he could see on her face was pleasure, allowing himself to give into his primal urges.

“What do you want, huh?” His words were low as he thrust into her again, lascivious grin on his face as he felt her lift her hips to meet his.

“I want you to fuck me. Hard, fast, rough, just— Oh—” She choked out a moan as James wrapped his arms around her torso and set a pounding rhythm, cock hitting that perfect spot inside her that made her see stars. “Oh, fuck! Yes, like that!” Satisfaction filled him as he kept up the brutal pace, feeling the heat in his belly begin to coil.

“Shit, ‘m close,” he grunted into her neck. All he had to do was hold out until she came. Then he felt her walls flutter around him as all he could think of was filling her.

“Me too, please. Just a little more,” she moaned. “Please, please, please.” Her words were like a prayer and he was her god. Who was he to deny this woman the one thing he wanted as well?

As he continued to fuck her, so dirty and rough, her thighs tighted around his as her back arched. James felt her tighten around his cock as she let out a scream of immense pleasure, coming hard. He couldn’t hold back, hammering himself into her as he let out a shout, crashing over the edge with her and filling her with his come.

“God, Rose,” he gasped as his hand wrapped around his cock, tugging furiously as he chased his release. He thought about how she felt around him, hearing her moans as she begged him to fuck her. It didn’t take long before his breathing began to labour as he got close. “Shit, I’m gonna—-”

With a long moan, he came all over his bare stomach. His vision whited out, his all-consuming thoughts of Rose leaving him floating. It was a couple of minutes before he could compose himself to clean up the mess he made and toss some clothes back on. After wiping his stomach with some tissues and putting a clean pair of pants back on, he figured he would just lay down for a bit.

‘Only fifteen minutes,’ he told himself.

James was startled awake by the sound of the front door opening. The clock ticking away above his door showed that he had been in his room for nearly an hour. Right as he found himself to be presentable, he heard Jack cursing as he dropped a bag of groceries. Then his favourite sound followed — Rose laughing. He quickly rushed down the stairs, careful not to slip, to help Rose bring the groceries in.

“Hey! Glad to see that the troops have been rallied,” Rose chuckled as he entered the main room. James couldn’t help but grin at her joke as he reached out to take the bags from her.

“Here,” he offered, “let me help you with those.” Handing him the bags, she squeezed his bicep in thanks, letting her hand trail down his arm as she turned to grab more bags from the car. He turned bright red, swallowing hard and moving to set the groceries down in the kitchen. Jack noticed immediately, looking between the man in front of him and Rose, who had just made it out the door.

“Oh, man,” he laughed, following James and setting his own bags down on the dinner table. “You’re really down bad, aren’t you? Well, good, because Rose is a catch.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he denied, giving a small sniff and refusing to meet Jack’s eyes.

“I think you know exactly,” the American enunciated with a poke to James’ chest, “what I’m talking about. You like her.” Jack took a step back, crossing his arms and looking James up and down. “And you’re exactly her type, too.”

“I am?” he asked hopefully before cursing, realising his cover had been blown.

“I knew it!” Jack exclaimed, grinning wildly. James rushed to shush him.

“Be quiet!” He frantically looked over his friend’s shoulder, making sure Rose was still occupied outside. “Okay, maybe I do like her. But I don’t have a chance, Jack.”

Jack smacked him on the back, rolling his eyes. “I’m sure you do, especially after Rosie and I had a little chat in the car about you. Just shoot your shot, James. You’re a good guy.” And with that, Jack walked out to grab the last of the groceries, leaving a slack-jawed James in the kitchen.

Maybe I do like her. That was all he said to Jack, trying his best to keep his feelings under wraps. There was no denying his feelings, but the real question was did Rose like him back? ‘I don’t like her,’ he thought. ‘I bloody love her.’

#my fic #tenth doctor #rose tyler #tenrose #ten x rose #doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #ten/rose #jack harkness #donna noble #roommate au

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bookstantrash · 4 years ago

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A/N: Next week uni exams start and I won’t be able to write for a while, so I did my best to finish this chapter on time before I go MIA for some time.

You can check here Pemberley’s Lake, Hooked on You and Smells like petrichor and paper, part one, two and three of my Nessian Pride and Prejudice AU.

The sound of music

Cassian could not sleep. His mind kept coming back to the greenhouse.

To Nesta and her lavender and vanilla scent and how lovely she looked amidst the flowers.

He would not lie to himself and say he did not let his lips linger a little bit longer than necessary on her temple.

Or that he had not felt some resemblance of male pride on seeing her wearing his jacket.

That he had not imagined her wearing it after they had come back home from a ball or one of Gywn’s operas.

That he had not imagined Nesta tucked close to his side, his arms around her and a smile on his face as he heard her talk about her day.

His imagination, it seemed, was his worst enemy.

“You are delusional Cassian” he mumbled to himself “Delusional”

Sighing, he touched the pressed daisy chain again. He had taken it out of his drawer and left it in front of him as he worked on some papers regarding his properties, thinking the numbers, reports of complaints or requests would help tire him out enough to make sleep come.

Cassian had no such luck. He worked until the entire pile had been properly looked through, and even three glasses of his strongest brandy could not make his thoughts of Nesta go away.

Nesta, who was currently sleeping in one of Pemberley’s guest rooms after much freeting from Mrs.Potts and her friends about catching a cold. Cassian had made sure to have her room properly warmed and a glass of hot chocolate delivered to her first thing after they arrived from the greenhouse.

Her friends had been delighted to spend the night, and he had almost asked them to forego the inn completely and just stay at Pemberley for the rest of the month. But he did not want to mess their schedule and ruin their trip. He knew that Gwyn was on a short vacation, as were Emerie and Balthazar, and Nesta could not stay away from her younger sister, Elain, for too long, given that they had no male relative to look after their household and wellbeing in the meantime.

Maybe a trip to the kitchens would help him. A midnight snack was bound to make his sleep come soon, and he was sure he had heard one the maids saying that Chef Ramsay had baked chocolate cookies.

Safely putting the bookmark back in his drawer, Cassian only bothered to throw a robe on before quietly making his way down the hallways. He was not worried about being shirtless, given that most of the house was for certain sleeping.

Deciding to take the long way to the kitchen in hopes of tiring himself, he was surprised to pass by the library and see light coming from underneath the doors. Thinking that maybe someone had forgotten to check the place in their rounds, Cassian opened the oak doors to find the candle light. He could not risk a fire happening in the library out of all places.

He followed the faint glow until he found himself with a most surprising — but very welcome — sight.

Nesta was currently curled up on his favourite chair reading a book in nothing but a thin nightgown and he momentarily forgot to be annoyed at her for not covering herself after being caught in the rain if only because by the way she was seated he had a privileged view of her bare legs.

Cassian knew he should announce his presence, his conscience yelling at him how improper and scandalous it was to see her in such a private moment. But he let himself stare at her for another minute, commiting to mind every single detail, from the way the ribbons in her nightgown accentuated her waist — he recalled how small it had seemed when they had danced at Feyre’s ball, his hand spanning nearly halfway across — to how the white colour made her eyes look more grey than blue in the candlelight.

“Fancy seeing you here” Cassian said in greeting, clearing his throat.

Nesta nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard him, quickly scrambling to straighten herself up when she realised she was not alone.

“I am sorry, you had said I could come whenever I wanted and I—”

"Could not sleep?” he asked, and Nesta only nodded.

Oh dear Mother, she wanted to crawl into a hole on the ground and disappear. Why was it that she was always finding herself in embarrassing situations when it came to Cassian?

It was true she could not sleep, her mind replaying her evening with Cassian, from the moment she stepped on the library to when he kissed her temple in the greenhouse.

She had tossed and turned in her bed for hours, her creative mind conjuring images of a future with him.

Of long strolls in the garden and picnics by the lake.

Of hours spent reading quietly side by side in the library.

Of running her hands in his silky hair, coming up with new ways to style it.

Of Cassian’s coat around her shoulders and her head on his as they came back from a late evening of dancing or parties with their friends.

Why could she not stop thinking about him? Why had he not left her mind since they had first met each other and why did her heart skip a beat whenever he was nearby?

She looked at him, flushing all over when she noticed that he would have been completely naked from the waist up were it not for a robe, which had loosened up a bit, revealing a bit of his naked chest.

For Cauldron’ sake, did he not own a shirt?

“What are you reading?” he inquired, and she quickly averted her gaze from his chest.

Little did she know he was also trying very hard to not stare at her bare shoulders or her chest, cursing once again whoever had gifted her such nightgown.

He could bet his fortune it had been Emerie, recognizing the modice’s preference of off shoulders designs.

“Oh, it’s a romance” Nesta felt her ears getting even hotter “By Sellyn Drake. You have a rather large collection here. Some are even first editions”

“She was a dear friend of Pemberley’s previous Lady” Cassian said, motioning for her to take a seat as he told her the story “The Lord sponsored her, both because he saw how her writing brought joy to his wife and also Lady Drake’s talent.”

“She soon became extremely famous and still kept sending the previous Lord her books even after his wife passed away” Cassian smiled faintly “He sold Pemberley and moved, but I kept the library as it was, just adding my own books here. Lady Drake comes once a while to visit and get inspiration for new novels, although she says she is to retire soon.”

“Y-you know her?” Nesta’s voice had gotten an uncharacteristic high pitch “You know Sellyn Drake personally?!”

“She is a very annoying old lady” Cassian said rolling his eyes “Always asking me if I will not take a wife so she will have someone more interesting to discuss her books with whenever she visits.”

“I cannot believe you are friends with one of my favourite authors” Nesta said in disbelief.

“But I would not have pegged you for a romance reader” she added, arching an eyebrow.

“I could not very well leave those books here to gather dust, could I?” he answered, squirming on his seat.

“Tell me, did the scary General Commander of the British Armies shed a tear in any of them?” her voice had a teasing tone and Cassian was almost left speechless by that fact alone.

Nesta inclined her body in his direction, apparently having forgotten she was not wearing modest attire at all and that Cassian was desperately trying to keep his eyes on her face instead of her chest.

“I promise not to tell anyone if you did”

And then Nesta Archeron gave a little sideway smile that made Cassian lose his breath.

He did not know what he had done that made her take such liberties with him, but he for sure was not going to complain.

“I did not cry” he finally managed to answer, angling his body in her direction and smirking when he saw a faint blush adorning her cheeks “But I will not be heartless and say it did not move me a little.”

They were close once again. So close Nesta could see that his eyes had little green speckles on them and that the brown looked like molten chocolate.

They were eyes one could drown and all she wanted to do was to indeed drown on them.

“Next time Lady Drake plans on coming to Pemberley I will make sure to invite you too” Cassian said softly, straightening himself “It is quite late. I will accompany you to your room.”

As if on cue, Nesta yawned, quickly covering her mouth with her hand.

“I only have one chapter left” she tried to argue, suppressing another yawn.

“Such a headstrong lady you are” he smiled and took the candlelight “The book will still be here tomorrow.”

Nesta followed him begrudgingly, twisting her nose in annoyance even though she was yet again holding back another yawn. Cassian thought she looked like a tiny angry kitten, laughing internally.

They walked back to her room in a comfortable silence, and sooner than he would have liked they had arrived.

“Well, then, here we are. Delivered safe and sound”

“Thank you, your grace” Nesta opened the door but did not get inside, as if she too did not want to part with him.

“Have a goodnight of sleep, my lady” he said, dropping a kiss on her hand before he could dwell too long on it.

“Goodnight, your grace” she breathlessly answered, finally getting inside and leaving Cassian standing outside her door.

Needless to say, both fell asleep quickly after that.

~•~

“For Cauldron’ sake are you incapable of sending prior notice of your arrival? And it is way too early to be drinking wine Morrigan, even for you”

Cassian had arrived to have breakfast and found Rhysand’s cousin casually seated at table, twirling her glass of wine at nine in the morning.

“I came here straight from Vivian’s. It was a long journey and I needed the wine. Besides, I am family! I knew you were going to like my surprise visit” Mor blinked at him.

“Always a pleasure to see you” Cassian answered, sitting beside her and promptly dumping a large portion of bacon and eggs on his plate “I take you introduced yourself to my other guests?”

“Of course” she snorted, making Georgiana laugh “Except for Miss Carynthian and Sir Oristian, that is. It seems they went into town early to see something in relation to their business.”

As if on cue, the dining room doors were open and Balthazar and Emerie walked in.

Emerie had opted to wear trousers today — Cassian thought it was to not be belittled by some stupid mercants and show with just who they were dealing with — and a white shirt with long sleeves with a forest green vest. Her curly brown hair was down and she had a gleam in her eyes that told him her business transaction had been a success.

She really was a sight to behold but it still startled him when Mor spat out her wine.

Mor never wasted wine.

“Sorry for our late arrival, Balthazar was being a weakling” Emerie said, sitting in front of a very much flustered Morrigan.

“I was not. You are the one who never lets the other have the upper hand” Balthazar pointed out.

“Please, you know that piece of silk was not worth that much!” she spread jam in a piece of toast, waving the knife in a rather aggressive manner.

“Maybe, but if you keep that up you will gather more enemies than business partners”

“Good thing I have you as my bodyguard” she batted her eyelashes innocently, making Balthazar roll his eyes.

“You are Miss Carynthian. The Miss Carynthian?” Mor asked in awe, her coughing fit finally over.

“The one and only. I take you know my shop?” Emerie asked with a smile.

“I absolutely adore your designs!” Mor gushed, and they fell in a very excited talk about gowns and fashion trends.

“Did you have a goodnight of sleep?” Cassian whispered to Nesta, who was seated beside him.

“I did, thank you for your concern, your grace” she answered, grabbing a chocolate cookie “I hope you also had a pleasant sleep?”

“The best sleep I had in years” he winked at her, that sideway smile of hers appearing again.

“Lady Nesta, my brother has told me how brilliantly your dancing is” Georgiana butted in, and Cassian resisted the urge to throttle her.

His younger sister was lucky there were other people present or he would do just that.

“He is too kind, my dancing is not that memorable” Nesta said, a bit embarrassed.

“But my brother never lies!” Georgiana exclaimed, receiving a glare from Cassian “He told me how the whole ballroom stopped to watch you as you danced.”

“Oh, thank you for the compliment your grace”

“It was nothing but the truth” Cassian assured her, sending daggers at Georgiana, who was sweetly seated by his other side as if she had not just told Nesta how infatuated with her he was.

“I wish I had your talent” Georgie sighed “I am really shy at balls and never really want to dance even if I am asked to. I usually throw my dancing card in the trash in fear someone will write their name there.”

“But I love to watch my brothers running from the scary mammas” she added with a devilish grin, failing in a brotherly bickering with Cassian.

Nesta felt her heart break over Georgiana’s fear of dancing. Apart from reading, dancing was one of the few things that brought Nesta joy. It made her feel alive, the music allowing her to get lost on the moment and forget the pressures high society placed upon her.

Dancing made Nesta feel empowered, in control of her own destiny.

Georgiana deserved to feel like that too.

And that is why when Emerie, Gwyn and Mor went shopping together while the gentlemen went horse riding, Nesta proposed that she teach Georgiana how to dance.

“Are you sure of it?” Georgiana asked nervously, glancing around the music room as if someone was going to appear out of nowhere and laugh at her poor performance.

“Rest assured. You will be dancing flawlessly at the end of the day” Nesta gave her a reassuring smile “I am going to take the male role, so please place your hand on my shoulder.”

Georgiana did as instructed, and soon they were dancing.

“You just need to have fun and relax” Nesta said, making Georgiana twirl “Even if you do not know the steps but act like you do nobody will blink. Dancing is not something that is supposed to be suffocating, but to free you.”

“You mean like this?” the young girl asked, and did a step completely opposite of what was expected in a waltz that made Nesta laugh and follow her.

In no time they were not dancing the waltz but just messing around, their laughs and delighted screams filling the room. They were having so much fun that they were oblivious to Cassian watching them from the door.

The gentlemen had returned to Pemberley and decided to move to the game room, their initial amiable horse riding outing transformed into a racing competition whose draw made Balthazar and Azriel — who revealed themselves to be extremely competitive — propose a rematch in a billiard game.

Cassian soon grew tired of watching them betting who would win, deciding to fetch a book to help distract himself. He was called to the music room by the sound of loud laughs, his heart threatening to burst when he saw Nesta and his sister having so much fun.

“When are we to expect a proposal, my lord?” Mrs. Potts said to him, having stopped to welcome him back when she noticed just who he was watching.

“I have no idea what you are talking about” he answered, a soft smile on his face as Nesta dipped Georgiana, making her laugh even louder.

“It is clear as day to all of us how much that lovely lady means to you” the old headmaid replied “I have never seen you happier since she arrived here.”

“I assure you, there is nothing going on between us.”

“Do not let your fears stop you from being happy” Mrs.Potts motherly said, noticing his bitter tone “You more than anyone deserve to be happy and feel loved. And I noticed how she looks at you, I do not know why you cannot see it.”

“Such busybody staff that I have” was all he said, Mrs.Potts smiling and leaving him alone to continue his watch.

But it appeared their talking had warned them of his presence.

“Brother! Were you spying on us?”

“Far from it Georgie. I thought nobody was home but your laughs made me want to investigate” he stepped inside, closing the door behind him “Balthazar and Az are so competitive they were giving me a headache”

“Nesta was teaching me how to dance” Georgiana said, a bright smile on her face.

“I saw it. She is a great teacher” Cassian said, and Nesta had to look away lest he saw how much happy his words had made her.

“I have a great idea!! Why don’t I play music in the pianoforte and you two dance? That way it would be much easier to see how to dance properly”

Nesta panicked at Georgiana’s words. Last time she had danced with Cassian it had been out of spite for his comment. She would not deny that she had found him a pleasant partner or that she had had fun dancing with him, but Nesta doubted he would want to dance with her again.

However, little did she know Cassian could not have been happier than the moment his sister suggested such a thing.

“That is a wonderful idea Georgie” he said to his sister, all the while planning to write to Rhysand concerning an increase in Georgiana’s dowry.

He had already forgiven her words earlier at breakfast.

Didn’t she say she wanted a new horse? He could arrange for one to be delivered first thing in the morning tomorrow.

Georgiana clapped her hands in excitement, leaving them standing in front of each other as she sat by the piano.

“You are not dancing!” she called out, her fingers moving expertly on the piano keys.

Cassian cleared his throat, offering his hand.

“May I have this dance?”

Nesta accepted his hand, placing her other on his shoulder.

“You may”

They fell in that pleasant and calming atmosphere as Georgiana played, Cassian leading her effortlessly, but she felt he was cautious, even a little stiff.

“I do not bite, your grace” Nesta said, daring to tease him “You do not have to be afraid.”

“I would not mind if you did” he said back without thinking, his eyes widening as he realised he had said that out loud.

“I beg your pardon. I did not mean—” Cassian made to release her hand and step away but Nesta gripped his shoulder harder, stopping him.

“Do not tell me the great General Commander is left without a strategy when it comes to some defenceless lady” Nesta appeared to be nonchalant on the outside, but inside she was apprehensive.

What if she had gone too far? What if he did not see her as a friend? What if he was bothered by her teasing?

But to her relief he gave her that smirk of his that made her blood boil, stepping closer to her, their chests touching.

“For you, I have no strategies.”

And they really began to dance.

The music was still there. Georgiana played beautifully and on another occasion Nesta would have wanted nothing more than to just sit and listen all day to her playing.

But the music was no longer the most beautiful thing in existence.

Nesta got lost on him as they danced, the music a faraway background sound.

She got lost on his bright smile and noticed he had dimples.

She got lost on the way he moved with her, a body made for brutality which now moved with grace, keeping up with her.

She got so lost on his warm eyes — more green than brown at the moment — that she felt herself moving even closer, her breath mingling with his.

“Cassian—” his name left her lips without her consent, and she almost froze when she noticed she had not used his title.

Cassian did not care, his smile only getting brighter.

“You may call me informally. We are friends, are we not Nesta?” he said quietly.

“Yes, we are.” she answered, her body tingling all over at the way he said her name, as if it was a prayer to the Mother.

Georgiana — having taken notice of the rather romantic mood — started a new song as soon as the other finished, neither of the pair paying her no mind.

Next morning, Cassian gave her a new horse, the fastest and most sought out in the market. No one had the barest ideia how he managed to get hold of it so fast, or why he was gifting it to Georgiana.

Neither explained the reason, just shaking on it as if it was a business transaction.

•

Tags: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @arinbelle @caotica-e-quieta @vidalinav @swankii-art-teacher @ireallyshouldsleeprn @duskandstarlight @d0riansgray @thegoddessaltenia @dayanna-hatter @verypaleninja @awesomelena555 @courtofjurdan @valkyriewarriors @moe8 @illyrianwitchling13 @silvernesta @bri-loves-sunflowers @queenestarcheron @imwritingthesewords @vasudharaghavan @rainbowcheetah512 @darkshadowqueensrule @letstakethedawn @starlightorstarfire @city-of-fae @thalia-2-rose @nestaarcher0n @rowaelinismyotp @julemmaes @dontgetsalmonella @alinaleksanders @lysandra-tiara @inardour @hikari274 @fatimafares123 @angelina-figjam @castielspelvis @lanyjoy-13 @firebirdofscythia @illyrianundercover

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#nessian #cassian x nesta #nesta archeron #cassian #pride and prejudice AU #sarah j maas #sjmaas #sjm books #sjm fanfic

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smarchit · 4 years ago

Text

Poetry for an Heiress, chapter 10

Word count: 3k

Summary: When a duchess and her children are abandoned far from home, they must rely on the kindness of one stranger to guide them home.

Warnings: None

Notes: This is the final chapter of Poetry, originally intended to be an epilogue. To those who have stuck to this story since the beginning, thank you. I am so appreciative of the support this story has gotten. I'm sorry I made you guys wait a month for this last chapter, but I promise I have smut coming soon to make up for it. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~

The leaves on the trees had just started to turn when you and Ezra were married. It turned out to be the last nice day of the year, with a clear blue sky and the last embrace of a warm breeze that blew through the garden.

Your mother and grandmother had wanted a spring wedding for you, as was traditional, but both you and Ezra decided on early autumn. It felt better for you two, closer, more personal.

The day of your wedding was perfect, not one single thing went wrong. It was as if Kevva themselves were smiling down upon you.

Your children were so excited to find that they were going to be in your wedding. They could barely contain their excitement throughout the summer. Even the little trip you all took back to Muir for a few weeks to help Ezra pack his belongings and auction the farm couldn't distract them long enough from asking a million questions about the wedding. The only thing that seemed to pull them away long enough for you and Ezra to get a moment to yourselves was the promise of bringing the barn cat, Charlotte, and her six kittens back to the palace when you left. They wouldn't have to hunt for their food or sleep in the shed any longer, and the children were delighted at your allowing the cats to sleep with them.

The morning of the wedding, you woke to Marie crawling into bed with you and snuggling under your arm.

"Mama," she whispered, "Are you awake?"

You chuckled and looked over at her, her curls messy and falling out of the braids she slept in.

"Yes, my little bug, I am awake," you replied, brushing your knuckle along her cheek.

"I'm too excited to sleep, mama," she said, cuddling up to your chest.

"There's still time to sleep for a bit," you told her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "It's going to be a busy day. Try to close your eyes."

"I know," she said with a yawn. "Grandmother said there was going to be sweets and dancing!"

"And we don't want to miss out on that, do we?" you teased, giving her a gentle shake.

She shook her head. "Never! Though Mr. Ezra said he would save me extra sweets if I fell asleep."

You chuckled and gave her a hug. "You won't need to call him that anymore if you don't want to. You'll be able to just call him Ezra after today."

Marie grew quiet and you looked down, wondering if she fell back asleep in your arms. Instead, she peered up at you with wide eyes.

"Can I call him papa?" she asked softly.

You brushed some of her hair away from her eyes and smiled in response. "You can if you want, little bug. That is a question for him to answer, yes? Ask him tonight if he would be alright with that."

Marie's smile grew impossibly wider and she squeezed her little arms tighter around you. "Okay, mama!"

"Now get some rest, bug," you urged her. "I'll wake you when it's time to get ready."

A few hours later, you stood in front of the large doors of the ballroom, dressed in a pale pink and blue gown, hair swept off your neck in a delicate updo. You took a deep breath as the doors opened and you walked out into the garden, the familiar path lit by several colorful blown glass luminaries, winding through the stone walkway, leading you towards Ezra.

His hand was already outstretched as you approached and he smiled broadly when you stepped onto the altar to join him at his side.

"You look beautiful," he whispered as he turned towards you. His eyes crinkled at the corners and you swore you saw tears in his eyes as he looked at you. "I am truly a lucky man, Princess."

Together, you turned to face the officiant as she read the ceremony to you both and to the small crowd behind you in the garden. She bowed low in front of you and Ezra before throwing the marriage veil over the two of you.

Ezra chuckled once the translucent shroud was draped over your heads, partially obscuring you both from the others. "Hi," he beamed, your hands still clasped in his between the two of you.

"Hi," you replied breathlessly, gazing up at Ezra. After a moment of silence,, you giggled and looked down at your joined hands. "We need to read the vows."

"Right, right," he said with a small nod. He cleared his throat and looked down at you. You both sucked in a breath and in unison, spoke your vows.

"I promise to stay by your side, through hardship and pleasure alike, to protect and praise you always, and keep the flames lit. To love the life we have, and the life we may create together now and forever more. For our lasting legacy, until the end of time."

As the final word was spoken, the officiant lifted the veil from your heads, revealing you both as one to the waiting crowd.

Ezra cupped your face in his hand and kissed you deeply, not caring one bit that your family was watching. He knew he loved you from the moment he saw you in the cantina, scared and shaken, trying to feed your children. He wanted to be with you, even if you didn't care for him the same way he did for you.

You threw your arms around him and returned his kiss with as much enthusiasm as he kissed you. You had never been more sure of anything in your whole life. This was what you had been waiting for. From the night you had been told of Rion's death, you had been waiting. Nothing had ever felt more right to you than in this moment.

Music started up around you as the party began. Your children ran towards you, wanting to be a part of the festivities as well. Marie bounced on her heels and tugged on Ezra's sweater.

"Mr. Ezra," she said softly, looking almost shy. "I have something to ask you."

"Of course, birdie," he replied, bowing at the waist to talk to her. "How about you go and get us some cake and a drink? You can ask me anything you want." He brushed her cheek with his thumb and offered her a smile.

She grinned and jumped up and down before running off towards one of the many tables laden with treats.

"Should I be worried?" Ezra asked as he watched her grab a massive piece of pink cake and duck through the crowd towards a high top table.

You chuckled and put your hands on Ezra's arm. "No more than usual, my love."

"I doubt there's anything that could ruin this day regardless," he hummed as he kissed you again.

"Mama!" Aiden cried as he shut his eyes. "Gross!"

"Mr. Ezra," Henry said, "My bow tie came undone, will you help me?"

Ezra chuckled and pulled away from your embrace. "While I can't tie much of anything these days, what I am able to do is show you how to do it yourself. Come on."

You smiled and ruffled Aiden's hair as Ezra led Henry towards the tent where the light was better. "Mama, you're not gonna do a bunch of that kissing stuff now, are you?"

"As much as possible," you teased. Aiden made a sour face and took off running towards the party. You shook your head and bounded after him, lightly threatening him with a dance should you catch him.

***

It was a few months after your wedding that you began to feel nauseous and lightheaded during your afternoon strolls through the garden with Ezra and the children. You chalked it up to the little bug that Henry and Aiden had come down with, but after it hung around for a week or so, Ezra insisted you talk to the doctor in the physician's wing. You had an idea as to the cause of your mysterious illness, but didn't voice your suspicions to your husband just yet.

After a quick test, the physician confirmed what you had been thinking. You were pregnant. By his calculations, you were about two months along, maybe nine weeks or so. Still far too early to feel anything, but it didn't matter to you. You loved your child so much already and couldn't wait to tell Ezra and the children. With the children, you figured that you could wait to tell them for a while longer, just in case something were to happen, but Ezra would want to know immediately.

You found Ezra reading in the bedroom, sitting in bed with a book in his lap. He looked up and grinned when he saw you enter.

"That was a quick visit," he said, holding his arm out, beckoning you to join him.

You crawled onto the bed and smiled as you cuddled up to him. "Put the book down. I have some good news to share with you, my love."

Ezra slipped the bookmark between the pages and slid the book onto the bedside table. He rearranged himself on the bed beside you and turned to face you expectantly.

You took his hand and rested it against your belly, looking at him hopefully, excitement bubbling inside you, ready to burst. "I'm pregnant, Ez," you whispered. You bit your lip, nervously awaiting his reaction. It didn't occur to you that he might be anything but elated, or that perhaps you should have told him in a different way.

Ezra blinked a few times, processing what you had just told him. It was one of the few times you'd left him completely speechless. He barked out an excited laugh and surged forward to kiss you. "Pregnant! Princess, are you telling me I--- we are going to have a baby!"

You nodded and laughed as he kissed your cheeks, your mouth, your forehead, any spare inch of your skin that he could reach. "Yes, yes! The doctor confirmed it, but no one else knows. We mustn't tell anyone just yet!"

"Of course," he said quickly, "I can't hardly believe it!" He kissed you again and rolled over, dragging you on top of him. "Another bird to add to our flock, Princess! Imagine!"

***

Your daughter made her entrance into the world one late summer night, red and wailing and perfect, only a few hours after you went into labor while on a walk with Ezra and the children in the garden. The physician had warned you months ago that it was normal if your labor was so short, given that it was your fourth child, after all.

Ezra was by your side the entire time, encouraging you and coaching your breathing as you sat in between his legs. He let you squeeze his hand during contractions, right up until the midwife kicked him out when they were mere minutes apart.

It wasn't long at all after the nurses shoved Ezra into the hallway that they opened the door again to proclaim the good news. A healthy baby girl.

As Ezra was let back in the room, he brought his hand to his mouth when he spotted you holding your child to your breast. He sat down beside you in the bed and stared at you both in awe.

Your daughter turned in your arms, her bright eyes blinking sleepily in the dim light from the fireplace beside your bed. Her eyes were yours no doubt about that, but she had Ezra's beautiful, perfect mouth. Perhaps one day she would have his silver tongue to match.

Most notably, and what had first taken your own breath away, was the shock of dark hair that lay against her head. However, on her hairline was a downy tuft of fine white hairs, exactly like her father's. It had brought you to tears when you first spotted it as the midwife lifted her from between your legs.

"She's perfect, Princess," he whispered, putting his arm over your shoulder. He rested his head against your temple and stared down at the tiny baby asleep in your arms. "What should we name her?"

"Eudora," you whispered after a moment of silence, glancing up at him, waiting for his reaction.

Ezra was quiet, and for a second, you worried you had upset him. But he slowly moved his arm from around your shoulders to grip the baby's tiny hand in two of his fingers.

"Eudora," he said quietly, his voice breaking slightly. "That is a fine name, isn't it?"

"I never stopped thinking about what you'd told me the day you pulled me out of the water," you murmured, kissing the top of your daughter's head. "About your sister."

"Poor thing," he said softly. "I wish I'd gotten to meet her."

"I wanted to honor her," you said. "And your mother, if you'd like. For a middle name?"

"My mother," Ezra replied, brushing his thumb over the back of Eudora's tiny hand. "My mother's name was Rachel."

"Eudora Rachel," you said softly as you pressed your lips to her forehead. "Welcome to the world, my sweet girl."

Ezra wiped the tears from his eyes as he watched the two of you. He hadn't stopped grinning since the midwife came out and announced her birth. He couldn't believe that this tiny bundle sleeping in your arms was a part of him. It felt as though it could all disappear if he blinked. He feared he would wake up, back on the Green, that perhaps this was a dream brought on by the toxic dust that had seeped into his blood. But it was real.

"Do you want to hold her?" you asked, nudging him with your shoulder. You smiled at his awestruck expression as he regarded your question, nodding slowly when you passed her over to him.

"Hello, little birdie," he said softly, shifting himself onto the bed so he could rest her carefully in the crook of his arm. "Hi, sweet girl. I-- I'm your dad. Happy birthday, angel."

You leaned against Ezra's shoulder and yawned, exhausted from bringing your daughter into the world. You let Ezra's gentle voice be a lullaby as you drifted off to sleep. Tomorrow, your children and your mother and grandmother would meet Eudora. Her birth would finally be announced to the world, introducing her as the newest princess. But for now, it was just the three of you, your husband by your side, your daughter sleeping in a bassinet by the fire. And it was absolutely perfect.

The next morning, you woke with Eudora's short, wailing cries for milk, which you provided happily. You were already untying the laces on your nightgown to bare your breast to her as you moved to her little crib to carry her back to bed.

Ezra had awoken with you, or perhaps maybe he had not slept at all. He watched you feed her and then change her with rapt attention, afraid to miss even a moment of his daughter's first hours of life.

It was still very early in the morning, the moon had not yet gone down, the sun still far from reaching the horizon. It had only been a few hours since you had fallen asleep, the clock on the mantel let you know as much. But both you and Ezra stayed awake after that until the sun rose, leaning against one another as you watched your daughter sleep soundly between your bodies.

"She's perfect," he whispered, leaning over to kiss you. "She is such a tiny little thing, I'm afraid I would crush her."

"It always feels that way," you murmured. "But you won't."

"I can't stop looking at her," he said. "She has only just seen her first sunrise and I would already shoot a man dead for even looking at her."

"That feeling will never go away either," you chuckled, glancing back down at Eudora. You trailed your fingers over the fine white patch in her hair and smiled at the thought that she would carry her father with her always.

Ezra ran his fingers over the back of your hand and leaned over to press a kiss to your forehead.

"And you, Princess, how do you feel?" he asked, settling back to look at you.

"Wonderful," you replied, with a small smile. You heard the rapid pounding of feet in the hallway outside as your children raced to meet their new baby sister. Your mother opened the door and the children poured inside, already squealing with delight.

Ezra gently scooped Eudora into his arm so the children could get a closer, careful look at her.

You looked at the five of them and smiled fondly at the new life you now had. It felt like a dream, perfect in every way imaginable.

After a moment, Ezra set the baby down in her bassinet and rejoined you on the bed to watch the children as they peered into her little cradle.

"Remember that night in the garden on Muir?" he asked, lacing his fingers in yours. "When I promised you I would always be there to read you poetry?"

You smiled and leaned against him. "I believe the phrasing was something about whispering poetry between my thighs," you said, your voice hushed.

Ezra chuckled and nodded. "That was indeed the phrase, yes. And I will keep that promise until the end of my days, Princess. I will write poems for you, for the children. For this little one." He looked over at the bassinet and smiled widely before turning to you again and kissing you sweetly. "All my love, Princess. And in a hundred years, they can tell stories of us, be inspired by us, and by our poetry."

~~~~~~

TAGLIST:

@the-feckless-wonder @gallowsjoker @phoenixhalliwell @waatermelon-sugaar @huliabitch @miscellaneous-mando @lestrange2703 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @auandromedus

#my writing #poetry for an heiress #ezra prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x you #prospect #pedro pascal

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years ago

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duet | love notes and roses

DUET MASTERLIST

desc: george weasley wants nothing more than to catch your attention, and what better way than with a valentine’s gift? he’s got it all figured out; ribbons and roses, and jokes about nifflers. what he doesn’t have figured out is your oblivion when it comes to his feelings.

A/N: hi everyone! here’s the second installment of the collab with @thoseofgreatambition; we’ve been pretty much squealing like a bunch of schoolgirls as we work through this story together, constantly placing ideas onto the table and fangirling over our favorite boys. we hope you enjoy smol bean, thirteen-year-old george and y/n!

warnings: none

George was thrilled to be on your good side. Fred, on the other hand, was rather peeved off at his twin’s hesitation when it came to pranks now.

George was worried about hurting you again. Seeing your lip tremble and tears well up in your eyes was something he never, ever wanted to see. It nearly broke his heart. You were soft and gentle and delicate. He didn’t want to ruin that. So he was careful.

Charms had already been his favorite class, but now that you were in the seat next to him, laughing yourself into oblivion at all of the spells he purposefully messed up, he knew it was his favorite.

He was cautious, though. He made all of his purposefully messed up charms harmless, just like that one when he’d first met you. He wondered if maybe he could make most of his pranks harmless, too.

“Professor Flitwick is going to give you bad marks!”

When he heard your laugh, he was almost certain his heart had stopped. It was just about the sweetest thing he’d ever heard, and that included his mum’s silly Muggle music she’d play during the holidays on something his dad liked to call a ‘record player’. Sweet as sugar, that laugh was. He did everything in his power to hear it all over again.

“I reckon he doesn’t know a good charm when he sees one!”

Another laugh from you caused another thunderous beat of his heart. George found himself grinning giddily throughout the entirety of the lesson, completely ignoring Fred on his other side, who was looking rather annoyed as he gruffly poured over his Charms book.

When the bell signaled the end of the lesson, you both headed off in your respective directions. George was sitting rather grumpily in Potions with Professor Snape and other third years, very upset about being so far away from you in the dungeons, but his head and his heart had followed you all the way to your Transfiguration lesson.

____________

You were standing at the front of the Great Hall when you’d accidentally bumped into George. Accidentally, and quite literally. You turned the corner a bit too quickly, rammed into someone completely and dropped your spellbooks in surprise. Before you could reach down to grab them, George was already picking them up and placing them gently in your hands. His smile was soft against his rounded cheeks. You felt your own flush pink.

You huffed a bit. George asked, “You look famished! Where are you coming from?”

Your eyes widened at his question; you felt the excitement bubbling up inside you, and before you could stop yourself, you were divulging a lot of information. “Care of Magical Creatures! We learned about Nifflers today, have you had that lesson yet?”

George’s grin only grew alongside his admiration for you; he shook his head and let you ramble on about your lesson. He couldn’t believe that the smiley girl from Charms seemed to be getting cuter by the second.

“Oh, George! I’m so excited for you to have that lesson, they’re quite interesting creatures, you know. I’d love to have one as a pet one day. I’ve just got to make sure not to have a lot of jewelry lying around.”

George let a laugh escape his lips, and you were quite certain that the pink color on your cheeks was only becoming more evident in the sunlight streaming in from the high windows in the hall. You yearned for him to laugh more. “And why is that?”

“Well because they love sparkly things, silly. I reckon you’ll learn all about that when you begin your lesson soon!” you told him. Your heart rate seemed to increase when he reached out and touched the top of your head.

“What about this?”

Of course. The yellow ribbon in your hair. Yellow for Hufflepuff, but also because it seemed to make the color of your eyes stand out. That’s what your mum had always said, anyway. It was your signature. “Not shiny enough,” you replied, trying very desperately to swallow down the nerves that were rising up in your throat, “they tend to like jewels and things, more sparkly. Not shiny hair ribbons.”

“Well I reckon that’s a relief, isn’t it?”

You grinned brightly at him; he playfully tapped the top of your head with two fingers again. You couldn’t help but smile like a fool. “Wouldn’t want those little buggers getting a hold of it now, would you?”

You were almost certain you saw a different type of brightness appear in George’s eyes when you told him, “Of course not, silly! It’s my favorite thing.”

____________

George was running around the castle like a chicken without a head, if you will. Fred was chasing after him, and he could not understand what on earth was causing his twin to become so bewilderingly flustered. He finally caught up with him in the relatively empty common room.

“Mate, what’s going on?”

George had the end of his quill in the side of his mouth and he seemed to be chewing nervously. Fred noticed a bright grin spread across his lips before he hovered over a bit of parchment and finished whatever he’d been writing.

Cautiously, Fred snuck up behind George, but his twin was quicker, and very stealthily placed his parchment into his bag and placed it right out of Fred’s reach.

“What’re you working on?”

“Just my Potions essay.”

Fred didn’t believe this, but George stayed silent. He swallowed thickly as Fred crossed the common room to join Ron and his friends, and when he knew he was safe, he pulled out the bit of parchment again for one final reread. He didn’t want Fred to see what was arguably the corniest letter he’d ever written, in his absolute neatest handwriting.

Dear Y/N,

Red and pink seem to be the stereotypical colors associated with Valentine’s Day. I figured you’d maybe like to wear similar colored ribbons in your hair, since you love your yellow one so much.

Perhaps by the end of our schooling, you’ll have every color of the rainbow.

And don’t worry, the nifflers won’t be able to snatch them. I’ve charmed them, you know. ;)

Yours truly,

Your Secret Admirer

When he was positive that Fred was immersed in conversation with Ron, Harry, and Hermione, George gently pulled out three things from his bag and placed them inside the folded letter: a red ribbon, for your hair; a pink ribbon, perhaps to be used as a bookmark of some sorts, or something; and a rose, for which he hoped you’d consider it a Valentine’s gift.

He grinned to himself as he slowly tucked everything back into his bag, and he skipped nervously out of the portrait hole before anyone could question where he was off too.

____________

Fred was being a right git. All afternoon, all he did was make disgusted faces at all of the happy couples strolling through the castle, and was becoming seemingly more annoyed with all of the floating paper hearts sifting through the air as they attempted to find their respective Valentine’s. He tried very hard to catch them and throw them across the room at unsuspecting students, earning himself grunts of annoyance. This seemed to help lift his spirits, though.

But George, on the other hand, was positively giddy; he couldn’t wait for you to open your gift. This is the perfect way to catch her attention, he thought to himself. He waited all day long, making sure you were both finished with your lessons before stealthily placing your gift right at your spot at the Hufflepuff table.

He spotted you walk in with a few books held tightly in your hands as you made your way over to your table for the feast. George was delighted to see your eyes brighten at the sight of the gift; you’d actually stopped in your tracks and checked the tag for a name maybe a few times too many. You were so cute, it physically hurt him to smile, because he was pretty sure his goofy grin could not be any bigger. He watched closely your smile grow as your eyes skimmed down the note, and when you brought the flower to your nose and breathed in the scent. George found himself becoming even happier, if that was possible, when he watched you wipe a single tear away from your eye before removing your yellow ribbon from your hair, and replacing it with the bright red one. Those were the only types of tears he wanted to see from you. He breathed in deeply; he was sure his heart was directly in his throat now. You looked around the Great Hall, as if the sheer fact of you holding the bit of parchment in your hands would send out a signal to you about who your admirer was. George quickly looked back down at his food, pretending not to notice, but he let his gaze linger a bit longer when he watched you giddily tie the pink ribbon to the strap of your bag, and bring the flower to your nose multiple times throughout the feast, too many times for him to count.

____________

When George had walked into his Charms lesson the next day, he didn’t expect you to tell him and Fred about your secret Valentine’s admirer, but found himself growing both even more nervous and also more exhilarated.

“Look what I’ve got!” you called to them both, hurriedly making your way toward them and sliding in your seat next to George. Fred furrowed his brows in confusion; George stayed quiet, hoping the steady pounding of his heart could not be heard by either of you.

“What’s that?” Fred asked, pointing at the bit of parchment you were removing from your bag. George just smiled a bit. He was overly happy to see the pink ribbon in your hair today.

“Someone sent me a love note!”

Fred looked stunned. “A love note?”

“Yes!” you squealed excitedly; you opened the bit of parchment and showed them both. Fred looked down and read, and George pretended to do the same. He smoothed his hand over it and peered at the slightly smudged date in the corner. He could practically recite it by heart, he’d read and reread it so many times. “Who d’you reckon it could be?”

Fred examined the parchment again. “Why does that handwriting look so familiar?”

George’s heart was pounding thunderously against his ribs, and your eyes began to sparkle at the prospect of Fred Weasley perhaps knowing who your secret admirer was. “It does? Oh, Freddie, please tell me you know, I’d love to thank them personally,”

The majority of Charms class was spent half listening to Professor Flitwick, but mostly you and Fred agonizing over the bit of parchment in front of you. When the bell signaled the end of the lesson and you all had nowhere to be as it was lunch time, the three of you stayed seated.

“It’s just.. so sweet, and considerate,” you continued on, running your fingers gently across the end of the ribbon. Fred was still examining the parchment rather closely. Your cheeks were completely flushed from the excitement of it all. Someone had noticed you, and had gone out of their way to give you a gift, and not just any gift.. A Valentine’s gift! George felt his insides tighten when you suddenly jumped and said, “Ooh, perhaps it’s that cheeky Ravenclaw from my Transfiguration class.”

George cleared his throat and tried not to sound so bloody obvious. “How d’you reckon, Y/N?”

“We needed to work on an assignment together last week, McGonagall partnered us up,” you began to tell them, pulling another bit of parchment from your bag. You pointed down to it, “Look here! We’d been taking some notes, and he wrote this bit here,”

Both George and Fred peered at you quizzically.

“What makes you think it’s him?” George asked.

“Well, he’s got rather nice handwriting, don’t you think?”

“Y/N..” Fred began, looking back and forth between both bits of parchment, “the handwriting doesn’t even match to the one on your love note.”

You didn’t look at either of them. Instead, a lazy grin appeared on your face and you asked dreamily, “So?”

Fred continued on, “I don’t think it’s him. But no worry, we’ll help you figure it out.”

“Yeah, ‘course,” George agreed, trying his best to sound impartial. “Whoever gave this to you must really fancy you.”

Your eyes widened in absolute admiration. They were sparkling and George was certain they were brighter than any stars in the night sky. “You think?”

“I know,” he told you.

It’s me, he wanted to say.

But he held back.

And that’s when realization hit Fred like a ton of bricks; he opened his mouth to begin his normal teasing, when George kicked him very rudely in the shin, and Fred had to bite down on his lip to keep from muttering words he very much knew his mother would not approve of. George shot him a Lay off, you prat, sort of look, and then turned back toward you. Your eyes were still glistening, your grin was still bright, and even though you hadn’t the foggiest that it had been him to gift you these things, he didn’t seem to mind. He meant it, too. Helping you figure out who it was. But he was in no rush, and it was okay if you didn’t figure it out.

He’d tell you one day.

tag list: @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @geeksareunique @insearchofnewdreams @notstandingstill-imlyinginwait @lumos-barnes @thatfuckingliardavidtennant@slytherinqween @xinyourdreamsx @skiving-snackboxess@wildfire-whizbangs @dwarfwizard-from-panem @diary-of-an-onliner @answer-the-sirens @woakiees @black-widow-fangirl@theheirofnightandday @summerstardust @whysoseriouspadfoot@chocok22 @myhopesareanchoredinyou @siriusblackisme@illusivedaydreamer @zeeneee @writingwitchly @wolfpotter12@obsessedwithrandomthings @carolinesbookworld@shadowsinger11 @pit-and-the-pen @summer-writes @peachesandpinks @gweaslvy @alpinewinchester

#George weasley #fred weasley #fred and George weasley #Weasley twins #George Weasley x reader #George Weasley reader insert #George Weasley imagine #Weasley twins imagine #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #George Weasley fanfic #George Weasley fanfiction

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throwmyheartawayagain · 5 years ago

Text

I Wan’na Be Like You

This is my entry for @this-kitten-is-smitten ‘s 200 Drabble Challenge. Clearly, I don’t know the meaning of “drabble” since this exceed 2k words. Oh well. I hope you like this Kate!

Any and all mistakes are mine. My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission- that’s just fucking rude. Thanks!

Title: I Wan’na Be Like You

Characters: MCU Sebastian Stan, Cora(OFC), Oliver/Ollie (OMC)

Pairing: MCU Sebastian Stan/Cora

Prompt: I Wan’na Be Like You from Disney's The Jungle Book

Warnings: Fluff, swearing

Word Count: 2,077

“Ghostbusters, whadya want?”

“Are you always going to answer your phone like that?”

“Yes, I am, Mr. Stan,” she laughed. “Especially when you are calling.”

“What am I going to do with you, lubirea mea?” Sebastian chuckled.

“Dunno, you’re the one that married me.”

“I see, well, I only asked you to marry me. You agreed to it.”

Cora laughed. “Is that how it is?”

“That’s how it is.” There was a beat of silence until Sebastian whispered, “Oh, fuck. Not again.”

“What’s going on?” Cora asked. She knew Sebastian was back in New York City, having arrived earlier that morning, but he had a meeting with his manager, and an interview for a magazine after that.

“Hold on.”

She could hear some excited chatter from Sebastian’s end of the call. “Sweetheart?”

“Look, I’m not Bucky Barnes or the Winter Soldier, so there’s no need to call the police.”

“See, I told you he doesn’t have a real metal arm. It’s all a marketing ploy for the Avengers!” someone exclaimed.

Cora giggled at her husband’s current misfortune. Ever since 2014 when the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarriers crashed into the Potomac River and Bucky Barnes escaped the clutches of H.Y.D.R.A., Sebastian has been mistaken for the former Winter Soldier on a weekly basis. The first couple of times it happened, the police were called and Sebastian was taken to Avengers Tower in Manhattan. Each time after the first, Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson greeted Sebastian with huge smiles and big laughs as soon as he was brought in through the lobby doors.

After the nth time in one week, Steve finally had Stark create a special identification card for Sebastian that verified he was actually Sebastian Stan, the actor, and not James Buchanan Barnes.

Four years later, he was still being mistaken as Bucky Barnes. During that time, Sebastian and Cora struck up an odd friendship with Steve, Sam and eventually the real Bucky Barnes, even inviting all three to their wedding.

“Sorry about that, baby,” Sebastian apologized, then grumbled, “that is never going to stop.”

“It’s alright. How’d the interview go this morning?” Cora asked.

“Interview went well, I was asked about you, Ollie, and Nacho.”

Cora’s giggle was music to Sebastian’s ears. “Nacho, is that really what you’re calling our unborn child?” she continued to giggle.

“Well, that’s better than ‘It;’ or ‘The Unborn,’” he reasoned. “Besides, what else would you call the baby?”

“Devil Spawn.”

“Cora, no.”

“Cora, yes! If you had this thing growing inside you and using your internal organs as their very own personal punching and kicking bags, then you would call them ‘Devil Spawn,’ too.”

“I guess you got me there,” he laughed. “Have you heard from my mom about Ollie?”

“Nothing since the picture she sent of him by the board with the arm span of the primates. I’m sure they’re having lunch at the zoo right now.”

Sebastian sighed, “I know I shouldn’t be worried and it’s not like she’s going to lose him anywhere, but sometimes I can’t help thinking that some crazy person would do something to Ollie or my mom. There’s even a chance someone obsessed with Barnes could do something, too. You three, soon to be four, are my entire world.”

“Nothing has happened so far to us, sweetheart,” Cora started. “I know how much you worry and how much you do to keep us safe.”

“I love you, too.”

“Oh, shit,” she moaned, then mumbled, “Devil Spawn.”

“Are you okay, baby?” Sebastian asked full of worry.

After a few grunts and groans, Cora stood up. “Yeah, just got a big kick to the bladder and now I have to pee. Any idea if you’ll be home tonight?”

“Bietul meu bebeluș. Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Seb, I swear to god if you ask me that again, I will steal Bucky’s arm and shove it so far up your ass.”

A hearty laugh was heard, and followed by, “I don’t think Bucky would let you have his arm, even as fond of you he is,” Sebastian laughed. “I guess I should let you go so you can pee. I’m hoping to be back home early this evening.”

“Okay, I will see you then. I love you,” Cora said.

“I’ll send a text when I’m on my way home. I love you too,” he said before disconnecting the call.

Just as Cora was finishing in the bathroom, Georgetta had let Ollie and herself into the apartment. “Hello? Anyone home?”

“Mama!” Ollie called out.

“Be right there!” Cora answered while drying her hands.

A couple of hours later, Cora was curled up on the couch reading a book when she heard the tell tale pitter patter of Ollie’s feet coming down the hallway after his nap. “Mama?”

“Hey, Bubby, did you have a good nap?” she asked her three-year-old while placing a bookmark in her book before closing it to set on the side table.

“Yeah,” Ollie responded as he climbed on the couch and curled into her side.

“Did you have fun at the zoo with Grandma?”

Ollie nodded his head before his eyes lit up and he excitedly talked about seeing the primates. “Mama! King Louie was there!”

“Oh yeah? Who else did you see?”

“Bears, no Baloo. I saw Simba, and Khan, and owls, and penwins, and famingos,” Ollie beamed at her.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to see Baloo, I’m sure he’s still in the jungle with Bagheera and Colonel Hathi,” Cora smiled as she brushed Ollie’s unruly hair out of his eyes. “Do you know what tonight is?”

Ollie shook his little head and said, “No.”

“Daddy comes home!” Cora leaned over and scooped her little boy into her arms and tickled his sides as he squealed and giggled in delight. Of all the sounds that Ollie made, she wished she could bottle his laugh to keep forever.

“Yay! Daddy!”

After Cora stopped tickling Ollie, she held him close with her arms under him to support his bum that was perched against her pregnant belly. He rested his head on her clavicle and pressed his face into her skin. “I miss daddy,” Ollie said as he wrapped his little arms around Cora as best as he could.

“I know, Bubby, I miss him too. But you know what? You have been so good for me while he’s gone and I’m so proud of you! I know daddy’s proud of you too.” She pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. “He’s coming home and you’ll be able to tell him about your day when you see him. You can tell him what you and Grandma saw at the zoo.”

“Okay,” he mumbled into her skin.

“How about we get a snack and you can pick out a movie to watch until dinner?”

Ollie nodded his head, rolled off of Cora, fell off the couch onto the floor and jumped up like nothing was wrong. Instead he was giggling. “You are my silly little monkey.” Cora shook her head as she scooted forward to the edge of the couch cushion to get up.

“Not a monkey, mama, I’m a rang-o-tang, like King Louie!” he huffed.

“Oh, I am so sorry, your highness, King Louie!” Cora bowed with a laugh. “What kind of snack would the VIP of the Jungle like?”

“Cheese and crackers!”

After eating their snack, Cora and Ollie were back on the couch watching Ollie’s favorite movie. Baloo and Mowgli just finished singing about the Bare Necessities and were floating down the river. Cora’s phone dinged, alerting her of a text and when she looked who it was, she smiled and responded right away.

Once the monkeys appeared and kidnapped Mowgli, Ollie scooted away from Cora as he got wiggly, knowing what was coming up.

“Hey, Mowgli, how about you flickin’ that ol’ mean fly off your papa bear’s nose?” Baloo said in the movie. The monkey sitting on the sloth bear’s tummy whacks him on the nose with a stick. “OUCH!”

Ollie burst out in the brightest giggles and Cora loved every minute of it. While Mowgli was being carried away by the monkeys, then Baloo talking to Bagheera, Cora heard the door open to the apartment and shut quietly.

Sebastian was home.

Sebastian was finally home after weeks away filming, and instead of kissing his wife hello first, he set his stuff down and crawled from the kitchen to hide behind the sofa. Cora looked over and saw him creeping into the family room and raised an eyebrow at her ridiculous husband. He smiled wide as he put his finger up to his lips telling her to be quiet. She shook her head as she looked over at Ollie.

The little boy was enthralled in the movie, even after watching it about a bazillion times. Sebastian and Cora damn near have that movie memorized line for line, but they would always sit down and watch it if that’s what Ollie wanted. That little turkey had his parents wrapped around his finger, whether he knew it or not.

In the movie, Louie had just finished squeezing two bananas out of their peels and right into Mowgli’s mouth, and was making a deal with the man cub. “Well, then,” Louie started before he jumped off his throne and scrambled to Mowgli’s left. “I’ll lay it on the line for you. A-baba-beep-boop Boop-ee-doop.”

As Louie slapped the floor of the ancient ruins, Sebastian placed his hands on the back of the couch while getting himself ready. Jumping up from his position behind the couch, Sebastian sang along with Louie in the movie.

“Now I’m the king of the swingers, oh, the jungle VIP, I’ve reached the top and had to stop, and that’s what’s botherin’ me!”

As soon as Sebastian made himself known, Ollie turned around and laughed at his dad. “Daddy!” he squealed.

Sebastian kept singing with a huge smile on his handsome face. He was dancing his way around the couch to be in front of his little family. “I wanna be a man, Man Cub, and stroll right into town, and be just like the other men, I’m tired of monkeyin’ around.”

He held his hand out to Ollie, who launched himself right into his dad’s arms. Sebastian danced around with Ollie, spinning around and dipping his giggling son while Louie started the next part. Soon Sebastian joined in when there were words again in the song.

“I wanna be like you-hoo-hoo, I wanna walk like you, talk like you too-oo-o! You’ll see it’s true, shoo-be-dee-doo, an ape like me-e-e, can learn to be human too-oo-oo!”

Sebastian set Ollie down on the floor as Cora stood up from the couch. All three pranced around the couch making trumpet noises until the monkey started whistling in the movie. Sebastian scooped Ollie, who has not stopped squealing and giggling from all the excitement since Sebastian popped up from behind the couch, up in his arms and pulled Cora close so all three were dancing together as the music played on.

Now it was Cora’s turn to quote lines from the movie as it played on. “Gee, Cousin Louie, you’re doin’ real good.”

“Now here’s your part of the deal, cuz,” Sebastian quoted along. “Lay the secret on me of man’s red fire.”

“But I don’t know how to make fire,” Cora said with Mowgli.

Sebastian winked as he held onto Ollie as he stepped away from his wife. “Now, don’t try to kid me, Man Cub, I made a deal with you. What I desire is man’s red fire to make my dream come true.” Sebastian had a good hold on Ollie as he swung him around and held him upside down, as Louie was doing to Mowgli in the movie and Ollie lost it. The little boy was laughing so hard, it was that true deep from the belly laugh.

Righting his son, Sebastian set him on the couch and continued to sing with Louie. “Now gimme the secret, Man Cub, come on, clue me what to do. Give me the power of man’s red flower, so I can be like you.”

Sebastian sat on the couch and Ollie scrambled into his father’s lap facing him.

“Daddy,” the little boy said as he grabbed Sebastian’s face with his little pudgy hands. “Daddy, someday I wanna be just like you.”

#this-kitten-is-smitten-challenge #mcu sebastian stan #mcu seb stan fanfiction #steve rogers #sam wilson #fanfiction #the jungle book #baloo #mowgli #bagheera #king louie #sebastian stan

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nikkzwrites · 5 years ago

Note

1, 8, 18, and/or 27 for Sunny Lodge prompts?? (Sorry, I had a bit of a hard time choosing just one. 😅 Feel free to only do what you’re comfortable with.)

It’s no problem. You chose almost the perfect combination~! Some of those prompts were more like “imagine” type prompts while others are a quite a bit longer. So I can make all of it flow well. It will be #27: Scholar, #8 Books, #1: Fire, #18 Flowers all mixed in within that general order. I hope you like it~!

The small village of Alverton really didn’t have much in the form of entertainment. Eddie let his fingers skim the spines of the books within the local library. He counted himself lucky to even have this if he were to be honest with himself. He stood back for a second to look at the entire shelf at once. This was the problem with living in such a small village. He had read most of the books here while he was still in New York. He sighed. Eddie felt a slight nudge in his back. He let out a pained breath. He turned to see a soft looking man in glasses. His dark hair was already graying. Eddie looked at him more carefully. Maybe it was all just dust. The wool suit the man was wearing looked caked in it.

“I-I-I’m sorry,” The man stumbled. He knelt down to grab some of the books he dropped then looked up. He adjusted his glasses as he stood up. The man looked over Eddie and exclaimed, “Oh, excuse me sir. I don’t think we’ve met.” He placed his books on a table not too far away. He walked back with an extended hand in which Eddie took and shook. “My name is Bruce,” The man greeted him, “Bruce Banner.” He chuckled.

Eddie laughed and said, “The name is Edward Brock. Everyone calls me Eddie though.” He smiled and said, “It is very nice to meet you.”

Bruce’s eyes widened, “Oh, you are Eddie Brock.” He scrambled to his table and back with a letter in hand, “You are our lovely teacher’s Eddie Brock and the young Peter Parker’s Eddie Brock.” He looked up at him with a very wide smile.

Eddie blushed and opened his mouth to speak.

“Oh dear, did I overexcite and get ahead of myself,” Bruce asked becoming downtrodden.

Eddie shook his head. “Oh no,” Eddie snickered through his embarrassment, “I guess I just have never heard it put in that way.” He smiled to comfort his new companion, “It is an awfully delighting thing to hear. It makes this new place of residency feel a bit more like a home.”

Bruce’s eyes brightened once more, “Oh that is splendid to hear. I know my darling friend would enjoy hearing that being uttered from your lips. Her words simply drip with admiration for you.”

Eddie felt his heart on fire. He felt everything burning. As much as he loved to hear that his dearly beloved talked so well of him, he felt uneasy about this man. “Oh, and what is your relation-”

“Oh,” Bruce exclaimed again, “I am sorry. I must have troubled you. My friend could only have interested me if her name was Alvin instead.” He chuckled.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he nodded in understanding, “Oh.” He let the information process for a second before letting his body relax. He had not even released his tension before then. He ran his hand through his hair and smiled, “Well thank you for explaining to me.”

After a bit, Bruce and Eddie walked through the bookcases talking. They were laughing and smiling until Bruce put his arm out in front of his new friend and pulled the both of them a little bit back. Eddie blinked and tilted his head at his new confidant. Bruce held a finger to his lips and nodded around the corner. He motioned to the body sitting at the fire.

This weekend was quiet for you. Peter had decided to go visit the girl he loved instead of you today. Feeling lonely, you decided to get up and walk yourself to the library. When you got there though, you were surprised not to see your old friend there. You figured maybe Bruce had gone to the city to gather more books that may have been released since his last visit. You took this time to walk and study the books. You sat yourself down with a copy of Sense and Sensibility next to the fire.

Bruce smiled at Eddie and nudged him forward to motion to go talk to you. He winked and turned to pretend to get an inventory of what the library had so that he was out of the two lovebird’s way.

Eddie cleared his throat as he walked over to you. He smiled as you looked up at him. Your soft face made his world feel full. Your eyes entrapped his. Eddie laughed letting his eyes close. He shook his head and took this momentary chance of freedom to glance at what you were reading. He sat next to you and asked, “So what are you reading?”

You smiled up at the man, “Oh hello Eddie. I didn’t know you were here.” You placed a bookmark within the pages of the beloved novel to talk to the man who held your soul. You turned to face him better, “I am just reading the novel Sense and Sensibility.” You explained to him with a small smile.

Eddie smiled and asked, “Oh, you like romance novels?” He teased with a laugh.

“Well I am not having any for myself, so I must read and imagine it for myself,” you equally teased back.

Eddie fain hurt and held a hand to his heart. “Oh, you must be making jest,” Eddie laughed.

You laughed with him as the fire crackled in the background.

That night, a fire roared as it consumed a house not too far from where the Parker’s once lived. The entire community had gathered to help, but sadly it seemed in vain. When Eddie and Peter got there, they both tried to help with the fire line.

Peter turned to Eddie went a young girl came out. “I’m going-”

Eddie nodded knowing what Peter was talking about and said, “Please hurry back.”

You held your arms to the redheaded girl and encapsulated her into your arms. “Oh Jean, are you alright,” You asked as you rubbed her arms.

Jean pulled away with tears in her eyes, “No ma’am... My family is still in there. They haven’t come out yet.” Peter had heard this as he was walking up. He turned and ran inside the opened door in which Jean had came from. He closed the door behind him. You screamed as you watched Peter run inside. You felt yourself start to cry as you tried to fight some of the other women to run after him.

Eddie turned when he heard your cry of despair. He dropped everything and ran to your side. “What is it,” He asked you cradling you within his arms, “What’s wrong?”

“He-He..” You cried. You pointed inside where Eddie could see a shadow running amongst the flames, “Pe-Pe-Peter ran inside.” You clung to him and cried.

Eddie stiffened up. He turned watching the boy. He gently handed you off to Bruce who had also rushed to your side. He pat your head and whispered, “I’m going to get him.” He nodded a confirmation to Bruce and ran inside.

Black smoke surround Peter. There was so much of it. He coughed and sputtered as he tried to call for Jean’s parents. He eventually fell to the floor. As he looked up, he saw a large fully black creature lifting him and placing him on its back. Peter, then, lost consciousness again.

Eddie had ran around back of the house. He took in a deep breath and sighed. He called to the dark entity that also resides in his body. “Venom,” he whispered beneath his sigh.

Yes Edward, The voice dripped itself back into a more accessible part of the man’s mind.

“I need you,” Eddie answered.

Venom started his growth over the other man, I can see that. What will I get in return?

Eddie sighed and implored, “Please let’s talk about that later.”

The symbiote grew over his face. He chortled and ran into the fire to go and retrieve Eddie’s adopted son. When he grabbed hold of him, he placed the boy on his back and ran out. Eddie forced the dark passenger back off his body as he ran outside. He forced it off his front first letting it slither back into his back and into his spine.

You ran over to your two boys when they had emerged. You kissed their faces relieved that they had returned to you safely. Your tears cleaned the soot off the two’s faces.

It had been several months since that incident. You turned in your bed to see the lavender bundle next to your bed within a pitcher. You heard scurrying across the floor. You stretched and pulled yourself out of your bed. You walked out of your small bedroom. When you left it, you saw your new girl hurrying about. You laughed and asked, “Jean, what is going on?”

Jean froze and turned to look at her adopted mother. She flushed and stuttered, “Oh, well, I... I was just... I was just preparing...”

“Preparing for what,” You playfully inquired.

“Oh...Uh, Peter had invited the both of us out for a picnic,” She explained stuttering.

You smiled and asked, “Well why didn’t you wake me?” You walked back into your room and got ready to go to lunch. You listened to Jean hurrying to take some pastries out of the oven.

Peter and Jean walked together both holding a side of the wicker basket together. They chatted about school and gossiped about the other children around their age. You and Eddie followed together farther back. You both strolled past the Trilliums, Violets, Bellwort, Virginia Bluebells, and Spring Beauty. Everything was so beautiful. All the spring flowers warmed each of their spirits. The birds chirped a happy chorus as the small family walked together to find a spot among the field of flowers to eat their picnic in company with the hopping crickets and whatever other critters wished to join in. Eddie let the back his hand brush yours his index finger curled with yours for only a moment before going back to the “proper” type of public interaction.

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justlookatthosesausages · 3 years ago

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*rolls up sleeves* my time has come.

I'm so happy about the illustrations too! Still a bit cheesy to me but it's well intended and so nice to have new content.

Okay "Drôles de créatures" means "Funny creatures/monsters", but in a "dorky" way.

Now for the pages:

FALL PICNIC. In this beautiful morning of Fall, Arendelle is magnificent. The brown, deep red and golden leaves shine in the sun, and fluffy clouds stroll through a blue sky.

It's an ideal day for a picnic! On that note, Elsa has asked Anna, Olaf, Sven and Kristoff [lmao at Sven coming up before Kristoff] for a lunch with them in a glade, right at the border with the Enchanted Forest. Like each time they meet up, all five of them are very happy... Especially the two sisters. They get this opportunity to catch up with each other, to tell what happened in the week and chat about the kingdom they rule since their parents went away. [so they DO co-rule the kingdom according to this writing team? and they see each other every week?]

Today, each one of them has brought something they love for the picnic. The basket is full of fresh food of all kinds: potato salad, smoked fish, sweet cheese... There also is red berries juice and green tea. Also, in addition to the provisions, Olaf slipped in a book that he just borrowed from the library. It's a documentary, that explains a lot of things about nature. Since he started reading this book, it's simple, he can't put it down!

Arriving to the glade, the five friends [awww] eat with appetite. For dessert, they're enjoying small cinnamon rolls [I MEAN???] and fruits... A delight! In the end, everyone is overjoyed.

"I think I'll take a nap!" Announces Kristoff with a yawn.

His loyal friend Sven grunts in approbation. He lays down in the grass and Kristoff lays on his side, his hands behind his head, with a dreamy gaze.

Olaf grabs his precious documentary from the back of the basket and dive into reading. Elsa and Anna, on their side, chat while eating fruits. After a while, the Queen of Arendelle suggests:

"What if we play hide and seek?"

Snatched out of his reverie, Kristoff nods with a smile:

"What a good idea! Olaf, what do you say?"

The latter lifts his nose from his book and assures:

"I'm always in for a hide and seek game! Just give me a moment for me to grab my bookmark and I..."

He stops his sentence and looks around.

"My bookmark..." He mumbles. "Where is it? I swore I left it here..."

He taps the picnic blanket around with his little branch hands. Without success.

"We'll help you find it again", suggests Elsa.

Everyone gets to work. Sven and Kristoff look in the grass, Anna and Elsa look in the basket. Olaf even slides under the blanket, which makes his friends laugh... But no sign of the bookmark!

"I'm gonna turn crazy!" Exclaims the snowman. "I'm certain that I saw it a few minutes ago!"

Elsa freezes. She observes Olaf for a moment then looks at Anna.

"There is only one explanation", she finally states. "It's a trick from the hulders!"

=======

oh interesting they are exploring scandinavian folklore. Hulders are the equivalent of borrowers, if I remember well. Tiny folks.

That was fun! :D

Preview images for the upcoming Frozen 2 book “Drôles de Créatures” just leaked (thanks so much to Snow on Discord for sharing them!)

The book has new original illustrations…and I’m loving them!

I don’t speak French so if anyone who does wants to translate the pages, please do! But from what I can see, it’s so great to see the whole gang hanging out together and having fun! Between this book and the recent comic, as well as the upcoming Frozen 2 novel, I’m glad Elsa is being featured more often - now it seems even more puzzling that they left her out in so many of the previous stories!

The full book is scheduled to release on November 10th. Preorders are available on Amazon France here.

I preordered the hardcover copy so I can make HD scans of the illustrations :)

#frozen 2 #post frozen 2 #french to english #frozen #frohana

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pandapyaar · 4 years ago

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Ok, Knights book hcs time

First of all, I'm sorry. The following headcanons can be ooc, since I'm an enstars novice. I wanted to try, though. Didn't do Ritsu and Arashi since I need to know more about them. Also, english isn't my first language so mistakes are to be awaited.

Tsukasa :

- He loves reading. He's built up a real amount of culture thanks to that, and is absolutely delighted to talk about it to anyone.

- You know about a book he doesn't know? He will ask you about it and definitely add it to his reading list so both of you can talk about it later.

- He makes lists. He loves making them

- He equally likes fictional and theorical works, but because of his responsibilities, he had to give up on several fictional works. He even grew to feel somehow guilty whenever reading one, especially when it's teen-focused.

- He's read several novels and short stories during his childhood. They were his only way to experiment something else that his young heir's everyday-life. Looking back then, he feels quite nostalgic but also thinks he was naive at the time.

- He maybe did read Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand... maybe

- This boy has never touched a manga in his whole short existence. He doesn't consider them as literature and used to despise them vocally. "Filthy culture" his parents said. But since they're such a big industry nowadays, maybe he'll start a few. He enjoys psychological but also action ones, bonus if it's chivalry-themed.

- I would hc him reading Pandora Hearts... maybe

- This is already canon but he spends a lot of time in libraries. He's well appreciated by the librarian because of his good behaviour. If asked he could even help the librarian.

- He once ate sweets next to an open borrowed book and dirtied it a little. Tsukasa was absolutely mortified and wanted to buy the book again, but the librarian told him it was alright. Since then, he's cautious.

- This boy is fascinated by old books I tell you. His family has a whole room dedicated to books, even expensive and ancient ones. Extra delicate when touching them. (edit: actually, it's already canon that he likes ancient books. I'm crying.)

- He's the lawful good child and uses real bookmarks. Never write in books but often has a little notebook to write down ideas or inspiring words. Would never corner pages

- He finds tablets useful but prefers reading in "real books". The kind of nerd who likes old books's scent

- Please figure... Tsukasa with reading glasses... but that won't happen probably because he is really cautious about his eyes, and avoids reading at night when he can.

- He totally would read outloud some parts of a book written in English to have a better pronounciation.

- By the way, he pronounces English terribly because he read more than he orally practised for a long time. I swear this kid is bilingual

- He also would pick on other languages by self-learning, therefore by buying books! Though his family probably has got books in most known languages. This guy wants to have more hours within a day because he has got so much to do

Leo

- Book? What kind of animal is that?

- This guy doesn't read much. He values more physical experience, and likes going outside so much! A book would be the last object he would take with him for a stroll.

- However, when he happends to read, he'll definitely find inspiration within it. Sometimes it's the plot, sometimes it's the characters, sometimes it's just about the way the words are put together.

- He loves poetry! He finds it very significant, and some poems give him inspiration vibes. He would want to put them in music, or simply find a melody that fits it! Haikai and haiku maybe? (I barely know about Japanese poetry)

- However, he isn't that much interested by poetry theory. Some aspects of Western poetry could get his attention, but there are too many weird rules for him. He would have got some knowledge about it though

- A chaotic evil kind of reader : corned pages of course; then he use literally anything as a bookmark, from a pen to a sock; and he definitely writes on his (or other's) books when he has got inspiration. After several scoldings, he eventually took notes on a notebook. Wild hc: Izumi bought him one

- This boy learnt music in an empiric way (by ear / by looking at music scores). Music theory? Barely ever heard of it.

- He doesn't get how to use tablets

- Manga lowkey got his attention? He used to borrow some from Mao through Ritsu, but since he's bad with deadlines or just forget he has the book with him, he ends up scolded by Ritsu. Because Mao is a tiny little bit mad about this.

- He lose books quite often?

- He likes fantasy and music-related manga! Same thing for poetry, he imagines melodies everytime. e.g. YLIA and Fūka

- Ruka owns books, and Leo read them 100%

- He could have a surprisingly good memory of some very specific books that really got to his heart.

- He reads inside and never outside.

Izumi

- It's well-known that Izumi is a hardworker. He would like to spend more time in the library to study, but since Knights trainings finish quite late in the evening, he can't. He borrows books and studies with them at home.

- The librarian likes him, because he always gives the borrowed books back in a perfect state. There are so many airheads and weirdos in this academy ffs

- He has a very busy schedule so he usually has no time to read for his own pleasure. However, when he feels really stressed and overwhelmed, he either studies, either read to relax.

- Izumi doesn't get to bed late because he values sleep, as it's essential for an idol to be healthy. However, he would read a few pages before going to bed, in order to fall asleep more easily.

- He would definitely have reading glasses when he gets older.

- He likes antiheroes stories and find them much more interesting than classical plots. He's the kind of person that would prefer the vilain in the movie if he's well-written.

- "Manga? I don't have time for that. Tch"

- but he may have read some when he was younger

- Lawful neutral: uses bookmarks but also whatever piece of paper he finds. He's got a good memory about the nature of his "bookmarks".

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theuniversitychallengereview · 7 years ago

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Episode 1 - Edinburgh vs Ulster

Do bookmarks get dusty if you don’t click on them for a long time? Having neglected the link to this tumblr page during these months of quizless wilderness I was a bit worried that I’d have to hack through a cobwebbed corridor of dingy darkness to get back to my writing station. It did take a while to load, but that was probably just due to the dodgy broadband connection. So I guess the internet is immune to the quirks and limitations of the physical world. Which is useful, because after nearly one hundred days without The Challenge taunting and titillating us in equal measure it hath returned, and I have me a blog to rustle up.

Season forty six, hereinafter referred to as The Year of Monkman, produced some of the great protagonists of the Paxman Era. Delighting millions along with the aforementioned foghorn and a supporting cast of eclectic intellectuals, were his best pal Bobby Seagull, the Balliol Captain and Sassmaster General Joey Goldman, and Warwick’s excitable Sophie Rudd, It was also a year in which The Challenge continued its transformation into one of the bedrocks of contemporary British meme culture.

It has always been one of the Great Institutions of this proud nation, but, to reference another, maybe its not always been everyone’s cup of tea. Thats not to say it is now, but the past few years have seen it make a subtle shift into the mainstream consciousness. Beginning with Gail ‘15 starters’ Trimble and the Original Playboy of Quiz, Alex Guttenplan at the turn of the decade, and culminating in the past few years with the likes of Monkman, Hannah ‘The Eyebrow’ Woods, Oscar, ‘The Gurner’ Powell, and I’ll say this only once, Theodore ‘Hapax Legomenon’ Loveday, the show has ridden the crest of the wave into the Age of the Hashtag (if you’re still getting the hang of me, you’ll have noticed that I like giving Grand Titles to everyone and everything).

A few years ago I was tweeting into the void about The Challenge. Maybe I’d get a favourite (yes, I still call them favourites, and anyone who questions me will be swiftly excommunicated from this page) every once in a while, if it was the Final, and I remember maybe breaking double digits in Facebook likes for totally flipping out about a Manchester comeback circa 2012, but it was a mostly lonely existence, kind of like how it must be for someone who still hasn’t watched Game of Thrones.

However you can now buy cushions with Monkman’s face on, and Bobby Seagull mugs. After the final was broadcast the two of them bromanced their way through enough television and radio appearances to keep Nigel Farage’s ego satisfied, and Lord Legomenon taught Joey Essex maths on ITV2 last year. Twitter hysteria hasn’t quite reached Love Island levels yet, but its plodding slowly on its way. I guess what I’m trying to say, completely earnestly and with no hint of irony, is that University Challenge is the new haunt of the rock star.

Hoping to put the “character” in “140 characters” (and probably answer some questions about books and stuff, because thats what we’re actually here for, right? Not this endless posturing) were freshly plucked quartets from the Universities of Edinburgh and Ulster.

Edinburgh, powered by the encyclopaedic engine known only as the Aberdeen Machine (and also Euan), reached the semi finals last year, their best performance since 2002. Ulster, according to the Belfast Telegraph, have never appeared on the show, and the Belfast Telegraph would be right if we only included the Paxman Years. The Blanchflower Archive of the Gascoigne Era however, shows us that they made it to round one on at least two occasions in the 70s and 80s. So their team, the oldest in the competition, may even have seen them live back in the day.

Paxman throws them an easy question to open the series, with both teams flapping for far too long before Ulster’s Jack swoops in, taking the first starter of the year with a late buzz on ‘wingspan’ (two bird puns for the price of one there, but seriously, what else do albatrosses do apart from have massive arms? Get it together, folks). The Northern Irelanders strike a double on the first bonus set and stroll into a twenty point lead.

He takes the second Ten too and Edinburgh are looking a bit sluggish, as Ulster take a single on the Shakespeare bonuses that the producers managed to hold off on for approximately four minutes. Stanley Wang gets Auld Reekie in the game, before a neg with an optimistic guess of ‘The Last Supper’ based on the prompts of ‘a meal’ and ‘the bible’ steals back five of his hard earned points - sometimes those reckless leaps work, sometimes they don’t, such is the way of this ruthless world.

Jack grabs a few more in what was fast becoming a one man show for the old guard. But Wang and Heaton-Armstrong trade returning blows with the pharmacist for the Scots, and eventually manage to squeeze into a lead which is immediately snatched back. Captain Carson decides at this point that he’s had enough of being overshadowed by his opposing number and throws out ‘tachycardia’ to take the impetus back with a nonchalant derision that indicates he’d been hoping to join the contest at a more difficult stage, like the gold medal favourite for the high jump.

He looks relaxed in his tried and tested Edinburgh University Brass Band t-shirt (this isn’t a random remark, I’ve seen him answer many questions in that very same fabric), and his calmness guides his team over the line, though a few seconds more and Ulster might have pipped them, as Milliken chipped in with a Ten just as the gong crashed on a Five Point Game.

Final Score: Edinburgh 165 - 160 Ulster

A solid performance after a slightly nervy start from last years semi finalists, and unlucky for Ulster, who will likely return for at least one more appearance of the Paxman era in the repechage. The Challenge hath well and truly returned, and I for one am jolly well loving it. Thank you all for reading.

#university challenge #edinburgh #ulster #bbc2 #jeremy paxman

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mercurygray · 8 years ago

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In The Sight of God - A Mercy Street Fanfic

For @broadwaybaggins, on her birthday.

At Belinda’s wedding, Emma is considering what makes a marriage.

Emma had attended weddings before, but never one like this. The last had been her cousin, Clara, who'd married a Henderson some several months before the war had broken out. The bride had worn white, after the fashion of Queen Victoria, with orange blossoms in her hair, and had six bridesmaids, plus two little girls to carry the train of her veil, and the groom had worn his uniform from West Point, resplendent in gray wool heavy with braid. There had been a ball with some two hundred people attending, and the gifts had been laid out in the parlor for everyone to see - the silver spoons and the candlesticks and the china that the bride would take to her new home. And the cake! Rich and decadent and covered in sugared flowers that had probably taken a week to prepare.

She had thought, then, that her wedding should be the same - hundreds of guests and a white gown in which she could dance all evening, and a chaplet of orange blossoms to anchor her veil on. But now she knew a wedding needed only two things to make it holy - love, and joy. And the wedding in the contraband camp had possessed those two things in ample measure.

The brides had not worn white (or even their Sunday best, since many of them owned but one dress) and there had been no candlesticks to admire or cake to share. But there was love, so much love, in the air around them, and they were, to a woman, joyful. And that, Emma had decided, was how a wedding ought to be.

She stood back from the party, watching the dancing and trying (unsuccessfully) to suppress a yawn. (Clara's wedding had possessed the benefit of a tallcase grandfather clock to imperiously announce the hour and remind guests that it was nearing midnight, but the only clock in the contraband camp was the one on Miss Jenkins' desk with the broken spring, and it would chide no one.)

Another yawn came shortly after the first (embarrassments usually coming in pairs) and Emma was just covering her mouth again when she turned and came face to face with Henry.

"A little late for you to be out?" he asked, his smile completely betraying the censure he affected. She could not hide that she was glad to see him smiling again. It had been too long since she had seen him happy.

"I might say the same for you, Chaplain," she shot back lightly. "I believe we both have work tomorrow."

He had the good humor to smile at that, his expression turning thoughtful. "Would you...allow me the chance to walk you home? Since I rudely declined your offer for a walk down King Street the other day.”

She considered his smile a moment, surprised at the offer. “I'd like that.”

The night air was cool as they moved away from the dancing, joyful mass of the party, the only sounds those of a city at rest - an occasional wagon in the distance, the chirp of crickets and the diminishing sounds of the party. Alexandria was a different place at night - all the world having gone to bed, silence reigned, the only lights those shining from upper windows.

Frank had offered to walk with her, after Clara's wedding - they'd gone down into the garden and strolled among the magnolias, which were just starting to bud, their customary fragrance and soft petals a distant dream. She'd been aware, then, that Frank had asked her to leave the party for the sole purpose of kissing her, and there had been something thrilling about breaking the rules this way.

Henry's request had a different purpose in it, his desire for the solitude offered by a walk home not one of illicit pleasure but mutual contemplation - absolution, even. And she welcomed that. For too long the air between them had been stilted and formal, caught up in the aftermath of their disastrous kiss.

Well, that was unfair. It was not the kiss itself that had been disastrous. The kiss had actually been quite nice, but what had followed had blotted all that out. She had never been able to find the words to say what she meant to on the subject, and, even when being found, hadn't been able to get Henry to listen. Was it wrong to offer a logical reason for such a terrible act as killing, or to try and reason through with him all the ways why this might be something God had asked of him, rather than the Devil?

Was it wrong to still desire him?

He seemed to think so. She'd watched him for weeks throw himself into the most menial tasks he could find, the scrubbing of floors, the washing of bedpans, tireless in his pursuit of penitence. She'd found his bible bookmarked at Psalm 22 - "But I am a worm, and no man; a reproach of men, and despised of the people. All they that see me laugh me to scorn: they shoot out the lip, they shake the head, saying, He trusted on the Lord that he would deliver him: let him deliver him, seeing he delighted in him." She moved the marker forward to Psalm 23 and prayed that she might find whatever still waters might restore his soul.

Let her be thought interfering, as she moved heaven and earth to try and reach him! Let him berate and rail against her and her intentions - let him hate her if he liked! All she asked was that something bear fruit, even if she could not taste it.

She'd watched, invisible, from across the road as Henry had walked down to Miss Jenkins's schoolroom, hat on his head and book in hand, every inch the man of God, to offer to officiate, and bit back a smile when Belinda nearly shrieked with joy and threw her arms around him in the kind of gratitude that goes beyond words. (She saw that embrace change him, reshaping his shoulders as if some care had gone away. Belinda’s hugs had done that for her more than once.) More women came, called by Belinda's joyful shouts, and soon Henry was surrounded by this flock of women, each one either thanking him or praising his name before the Almighty or wondering aloud if he might join her to her beloved as well. He turned in this crowd, one tall, dark-coated figure in their midst, overwhelmed and amazed by this great tide of love and joy and faith.

And then he'd smiled, and Emma found tears in her eyes. Doubtless a close relation of the tears she'd found in her eye earlier this evening while she listened to him read the prayers that she'd heard read a dozen times before, in stately parlors and grand churches, somehow more sacred now, being read here, to this humble assembly. "Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God..."

How handsome he had looked, in his best coat! How handsome he looked now, in the dim light of the street. His face was turning solemn and thoughtful again as they walked home, and the silence between them was...companionable -- comfortable, even. Emma wished he would say something, but she did not want to burden this with words. For now silence, this silence, was enough. She would make it be enough.

The orderly on duty at the desk looked up sleepily as they came in the wide front door, his eyes dropping back down to his book when he saw it was only the chaplain and Miss Green. The stairs seemed an eternity, until finally they arrived at Emma’s door, Miss Phinney’s vacated room.

Finally Henry spoke. "I believe I owe you an apology, Miss Green. I was...abrupt with you, when you asked me to consider...doing this. I had much on my mind and in my haste to console myself I forgot that my duty to God lies in service to others, in whatever form that takes. And you would not let me forget that.” He stopped, clearly in the midst of thinking through some great matter, his eyes fixed, very firmly, on the hat and bible in his hands. “You are not a weakness, Emma Green, nor a ...derailment. You are... anything but. And...” He swallowed, and stepped a little closer, hopeful and contrite, finally meeting her gaze. “I should very much like to kiss you again.”

“I should very much like to be kissed,” Emma reassured him, closing the gap between them and pressing her lips gently to his, as if testing the waters. No one interrupted. The heavens did not open nor did fire rain down, and no clock cried out. The bible fell from Henry’s hands with a soft thump, the hat soon joining it, his hands no longer strangers to her waist and her hands no longer unfamiliar with his waistcoat, unaware of passing time as, beneath them, the world slept on.

#i have written a thing #mercy street pbs #emmry #henry hopkins #mercy street fanfiction #emma green

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timelcved · 3 years ago

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@miserysman said ; 👫 + js & er

𝟏 . esther has always had a soft spot for certain three associates , beatrice , dashiell , & jacques . each knew in their own way , she gives them rare smiles hidden behind books & encoded messages . their very first assignment is to deliver a warning & break into an office to acquire coded documents while a ball is held a floor below . there is dancing involved , the slow & deliberate kind . esther is so focused on completing tasks to perfection , does not notice when jacques leans in to tell her to relax until she feels warmth of his breath ‘pon her ear . catches her by surprise , but not more than being led in a dance surprises her , & looking into his eyes while he holds her close ignites a fire different than any she knew before . it is the first time she thinks of him in any romantic way . 𝟐 . their courtship before that fateful summer is different than any you or i may know well . she has left the organization at this time , but keeps in contact with previous associates . perhaps he catches her by accident in a library where she is shelving copies of poetry on flowers , perhaps it wasn’t accidental at all . he takes a book , comments on the endurance of a certain type of orchid , places a bookmark before poem entitled delightful orchids ( it is not a good poem , it makes her smile regardless ) , & they sneak out back doors to plan a dinner . these plans & ways of meeting are always interrupted by siblings chasing arsonists , or arsonists taking shelter . their first real dinner together is two days before a ball held by the duchess . night ends in holding of hands while taking a stroll through a garden , & kiss placed upon cheek to serve as a promise of another date . 𝟑 . the first time he meets his daughter , she is aged 8 months , barely able to crawl around due to slow development ( but he is impressed at her speed ! ) . they have a picnic in a field in another country , away from all eyes but the ones upon their ankles . it’s a joyous reunion , but he will note that esther’s smiles no longer meet her eyes . she will gift him a tiny scrap of baby hairs , belonging to his son . will not tell him that it is all she has left of him , only that if he will not stay with daughter , to please keep son close at the very least . it is how he convinces any associates who hear rumors of a new snicket that there is simply nothing to take from esther . the rest of their day is spent perhaps with him reading to little girl as she naps on his chest while esther simply writes details of this day into commonplace book , to be inherited by eden when both parents are but ashes themselves . 𝟒 . jacques never takes the ring back from her , though he tells her he wishes for her to be happy one day with someone new . the ring is worn on a simple gold chain as a necklace , resting gently underneath star of david . upon his death , his pocket - watch ( stack of letters , undelivered & encoded ) are presented to his daughter by his brother . both women whom he loved & loved him in return simply carry him with them for the rest of their lives . should daughter ever grow to have children of her own , first child is named in honor of her father .

my personal favorite prompt ! / accepting

#forgive me but they are all i can think about .#miserysman #REL ; JS & ER / WE WERE TOGETHER . I FORGOT THE REST .#answered .

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wanderonwardsvanessa · 5 years ago

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If you’re like me, you travel to 1) see the world and 2) eat through the world. Food culture is SO IMPORTANT to me that I’ve genuinely traveled around the globe to go have a goat cheese pastry in Greece this one time. Street food tours are your best bet when it comes to understanding real local food culture. Untampered by big tourism (yet), street food vendors are able to make MAGIC with very few resources and you leave with a whole new appreciation for what these vendors have accomplished.

Especially in Mexico City.

With nearly 22 million people in the greater Mexico City Area (or CDMX), everyone is on the move to get in and out of the city in one piece. That’s why street food culture is so popular in Mexico City! Everyone is hustling to get from Point A to Point B in the most cost-effective way possible. For that reason, you can find a taco for less than $0.30 and ALL street food is designed to be eaten on the go.

Whilst we were in Mexico City, we had the absolute pleasure of attending an Eat Like a Local Mx Street Food Tour. Rocio invited Marcus and I to go on their most popular ‘Food Safari’ – The Market Safari – through the west of Mexico City to experience the best bits of the street food scene.

Why Eat Like a Local Mx

After experiencing a wide range of tours, running my own tours, and working Travel Tech, there are simple pillars that I hold near and dear.

Paying Local Street Food Vendors a Fair Wage

On the darker side of tourism, there is DEFINITELY a culture of exploiting local vendors. Whether it’s due to a lack of business education or underestimating the value of what they provide, local vendors often lack key skills to negotiate fair pay and conditions in the face of international travel powerhouses. Further more, the ‘All-Inclusive’ culture has led to the removal of ‘tipping culture’ and fewer people are leaving the resort to ‘get their money’s worth’ so there are naturally fewer ways to makeup a decent salary to bring home. Also – staying at a resort is 👏🏽 NOT 👏🏽 traveling 👏🏽!

With Eat Like a Local Mx, you know that the local vendors are getting not just fair pay, but also, these vendors are receiving additional resources to better their position in the tourism/food industry. The children of vendors have access to English classes, tutoring and are positively exposed to a variety of foreign people and languages. Many of Eat Like a Local Mx‘s street food tours run twice a day, with 4 – 6 people each, so there’s a constant flow of business coming in and out. It warms my heart just writing about it! Eat Like a Local Mx is the change we want to see in the world.

Supporting Women in Tourism

Eat Like a Local Mx also only employs female guides in order to circulate money back to women in the heavily male-dominated tourism industry. Our guide – Astrid – was intelligent, empathetic, and she was EASILY the most popular person in the streets and through the markets. She greeted everyone by name, kissed babies, and shared special moments with the vendors that brought such warmth to my heart. I would joke that she could be a strong contender for Miss CDMX, but she assured me this was just normal in Mexican culture; you greet people as if they were your family.

Value & Range

In just 4.5 hours, you’ll experience four different neighborhoods, brave the subway (lol), and learn so much about present day Mexican culture. There is so much negative press online about Mexico, but my experience in Mexico City was COMPLETELY different to anything I expected. I actually revisited the Jamaica Market on my own because I fell in love with the energy… and this legendary cornbread (lol). Girl’s gotta eat!… cornbread. Over the span of the street food tour, I had to start rejecting food because I just COULDN’T eat any more. After the 6th taco, we suddenly realized that we needed to pace ourselves better so we started splitting portions along the way. We tried over 25 different meals and treats easily. I had at least 8 full tacos to myself (here’s where I went wrong lol) and then started picking at little things along the way.

I also really appreciated the sequence of all the food. We started with heavier things and then slowly started moving toward sweater and smaller treats. We spent a whole 30 minutes sampling at least 16 different types of fruits that were native to Mexico and 4 of them I had never even SEEN before?! When we arrived at Condesa for the start of the tour, we came hungry and without anything in our bodies in anticipation of quite the afternoon. However, when we finally ended the experience with a vegan ice cream in the Juarez neighborhood around 3pm, there was just no way we could fit anything MORE into our bodies (lol) – in a good way, of course. We ended up not eating for the rest of the day so it was excellent value for money!

Each Adult ticket is just under $95.

MEXICAN FOOD 101 – MARKETS SAFARI

10:00 AM

CONDESA – COFFEE AND STREET FOOD

Start your day with craft coffee and traditional pan dulce, then hit the streets and taste 3 different tacos.

11:00 AM

JAMAICA MARKET – THE BEAUTIFUL ONE

Ride the subway and explore the beautiful flower market, taste carnitas, fruit, corn, freshly made tortillas, mole, warm chicharrón, and more.

12:30 PM

LA MERCED MARKET – GO DEEPER

Visit the amazing La Merced Market, cook with the local ladies, learn about cactus pads, taste some insects, quesadillas, tlacoyos and try the best candy.

2:00 PM

JUÁREZ NEIGHBORHOOD – TIME TO RELAX

We finish the tour at the up and coming Juárez neighborhood, with the best gelato in town, or a cocktail if you are feeling more festive.

My Experience

We arrived in Condesa with empty stomachs and open minds. A street food tour was right up our alley because we love nothing more than to experience what real people eat every day. Fancy restaurants are cool, but I find that they only give a snapshot of what the rich and upper middle-class eat. The absolute BEAUTY of Mexico City is that there is no bad food. Period. You can spend $1 or $100 on a meal and it’s still going to blow you away.

We met the other 4 people on our street food safari and they were from a variety of backgrounds. Most of us were young professionals without children and to my surprise, there were 3 other tech workers in the group and we quickly hit it off. I think the beauty of small group tours is the opportunity to meet people who you might have never crossed paths with otherwise. There was a wonderful woman working in Mexico City on her own from Italy? Germany? She spoke 4 languages perfectly so I still have no idea where this brilliant woman was from. There was a fin-tech couple from the Bay area who were undercover geniuses. And then there was a solo Pakistani developer from NYC.

All of the food in our tour – from the mini-meals to the tiny sweets – was 100% covered by our ticket. I thought this was excellent customer-centricity as many times tours can ‘nickle and dime’ you to death if you don’t read the small print. This was not the case for our street food tour with Eat Like a Local Mx.

As the agenda above implied, we started off by walking through the upper-class neighborhood of Condesa. The streets were lined with gorgeous trees, young couples walking their dogs, and LOADS of trendy eateries. We definitely bookmarked this place to come back to. We stopped by a few taco vendors along the way to sample their most famous options and received a lovely explication from our guide regarding: what the food was, why this food was popular, how to eat it properly, and what salsas to avoid if you weren’t keen on breathing fire lol. Something that was new to my street food tour experience was the wonderful background of the family responsible for the delicious treats. We met several generations of each family, which was a real treat.

[su_note note_color=”#fbddf6″]Side Note: If you’re looking for places to stay and general information about the neighborhoods in Mexico City, you should definitely check out my Mexico City Guide. [/su_note]

Our next destination was the Jamaica Market. Jamaica Market is possibly my favorite place in all of Mexico City. Everyone is SUPER friendly (in a non-pushy way) and all of the prices were displayed so I never felt like I was being ripped off when I returned on my own a few days later. In the Jamaica Market, we sampled different fruits, sweets, and MORE tacos as we strolled along the corridors. I was having a ball moving in and out of each stall, looking at all of the wonderful things that people could purchase; especially the piñatas (or large paper mache characters with candy in them that children beat-up for special occasions lol).

Perhaps the most authentic experience along the way was our time at La Merced Market. We were warned not to have any of our camera equipment out for this one so unfortunately I don’t have any photos. However, we were advised to do so for good reason. The market is bustling with loads of people at all times. It was crazy chaotic in the best way and here, we got to try more ‘alternative’ types of food – like bugs! In La Merced Market, I really felt like I was getting a birds-eye view into the daily life of normal people in Mexico City. People were always in a hurry, but they were kind and not-pushy at all. Multiple people came round to tell Marcus ‘You are very tall’ and then just left. He’s over 2 meters tall or just under 6’8″. I think the average height of the people in the market couldn’t be taller than 5’6″ 😂 We were able to try a variety of different bugs and delightful treats, but we also sat down for a proper meal and had the chance to meet one of the little boys that Eat Like a Local Mx is sponsoring. He gets additional language and tutoring resources so he can keep-up in school properly.

Finally, we ended our journey in the Juárez neighborhood where we got vegan gelato and had a bit of a sit. It was such a long and delicious day that I almost couldn’t finish my gelato… but my mom didn’t raise a quitter. We didn’t spend as much time in the Juárez neighborhood as we did with the others, but that was because our guide could read the group quite well and knew there just wasn’t anymore space in our bellies for more.

FAQ

Starting point: Condesa neighborhood

Finishing point: Juárez

Group size: Max 6

Transportation: Walking and subway

Walking distance: 4.5 miles

Number of tastings: More than 25

Kids friendly: YES they love kids on this tour

Special diets friendly: Vegetarian and gluten-free friendly

Alcohol inclusions: juice with vodka and beer

Fun tip: Netflix´s Taco Chronicles tacos included on this tour: Canasta, Guisado, Carnitas

Conclusion

Eat Like a Local Mx has been THE BEST food tour experience I’ve ever had. And I’ve had A LOT. There was something about the ethos of the company and our guide that just resonated with me beyond a superficial level. Yes the street food was AMAZING! Yes, our guide was so attentive and thoughtful. However, the icing on the cake was the fact that I was supporting real people, who I got to meet and interact with, in a tangible way. I can only recommend Eat Like a Local Mx for anyone who wants to travel more sustainably.

Mexico City, Mexico: Sustainable Street Food Tours with Eat Like A Local Mexico If you're like me, you travel to 1) see the world and 2) eat through the world.

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