#but I'm a stubborn fool and decided i was more interested in seeing if i could fix them up than in just having a nice monstera plant
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genderfluid-druid · 1 year ago
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[ID: photo of two monstera deliciosa plants in matching pots, their leaves covered in water droplets. End ID]
It's watering day, and we're getting a nice rain here, so I put the big kids outside for a bit. I love the way their leaves look with rain on them.
Bonus Leia's newest leaf passing the Big Leaf Test:
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[ID: photo of a single big leaf with my hand for scale. Leaf is bigger than hand. End ID]
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saiikavon · 3 months ago
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You know what it is about Solas, that makes him simultaneously my favorite character and also just so annoying to me because I think I've got it
I consider myself a curious person, wanting to learn all I can and surround myself with people who are also curious and love to learn. And I think, when you are a curious person, you can really open yourself up to lots of different perspectives and experiences
BUT
When you are a person who Learns, you also run the risk, I think, of becoming attached to your own intellect and the things you have learned. You can become as obsessed with the Knowing as you are with the Learning, and when you do that...you can easily convince yourself that you know more and are wiser than pople who may not share your inherent curiosity
Which is a long-winded way of saying that sometimes very learned and experienced people can become pompous, know-it-all assholes
Solas, I believe, has convinced himself that what he knows and what he has learned is worlds above what other people know, and the frustrating thing is, he sort of does. He has truths that people have long forgotten, histories that he witnessed first hand that have become twisted over time. Furthermore, he has presumably had time to reflect on all he's done and all that came of his actions, so he can operate based on information only HE has
I know people like this. I have fallen victim to it myself at times. Thinking that the act of reflection itself means you will ultimately come to the best overall conclusion, since you are, indeed, giving something its due consideration before acting, where others would jump in without thinking at all or gaining all the information. The problem is that just thinking things over does not automatically make one correct. You may have taken every new point of information without checking your biases, or with even an unconcious interest in confirming them. You may let a specific emotion guide your research. You may forget to actually listen to what's been told to you or to consider the feelings of those around you - the facts may not care about feelings, but feelings can and do shape certain facts.
Solas' folly is that he has lived through so much and ultimately applies all of that experience to things he learns about the new world without actually considering the people who live in it. Oh, he wants to save them, this lost flock, as he did the slaves bound by the Evanuris. He thinks that because they do not know better, he must decide for them what to do.
What I adore about him is this compassion, this curiosity, the way he paints his picture of history. The way he feels for his people and the way he learns about the world.
What I cannot stand is how he holds this learning over everyone's head, even people he claims to respect. It drives me absolutely bananas when I see someone I genuinely love spend so much time talking themselves into a corner that they now think anyone who presents a new perspective must automatically be wrong. I hate when I catch myself doing it. I understand the burning need to defend the position I've spent so long cultivating because someone has tried to tell me I'm wrong.
You can't argue with a person like this in one debate. They've already argued with themselves and, intentionally or not, developed a counterpoint for each and every point you can make against their stance. Even if they convince themselves they don't want to go down this path...well, they've thought about it for so long, they now feel they have no other choice.
I adore Solas. I hope, hope, HOPE, that in Veilguard, we can give him an argument he will finally consider. I hope we can tell him he's being a stubborn fucking dipshit and he will listen. I hope we can provide him a new way to learn and that he will try to move on. I hope he will leave his past to rest and try to make reparations to those that live in the present.
I hope my Inquistor Wren Lavellan can go to him, smile as she kisses him and calls him a fool, then take his hand and find home.
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smoozie · 7 months ago
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tell me about your life series aa au 🙏
I'm so glad you asked!!
Let's begin with who I think could be a defense attorney
Mumbo
Gem
Scott
Scar
And of course, it's not an AA au if the defense doesn't have their weird girl co-counsel!
Mumbo gets Lizzie! I absolutely adore their dynamic (from what we get to see) and it is very reminiscent of Apollo and Trucy (for me). Lizzie would fake hold herself hostage and Mumbo would cry because he was worried abt her.
Gem gets Impulse! Again I love their dynamic. Gem is probably the one who screams defense attorney to me most, and considering her relationship with Impulse it seems fitting he supports her in court.
Scott gets Jimmy! Flower husband fans will be pleased. To be completely honest, this pair up was more a matter of these two being the last ones in their respective categories, but I think it offers an interesting dynamic. The cool and collected with the more wild co-counsel. Typically the defense is very uncool and never collected. This one is giving Kay and Edgeworth if u squint (a lot).
Scar gets Bdubs! Fun fact, Scar was originally also a co-counsel, but the idea of him and Bdubs on defense together was too good an opportunity to miss. Bdubs 100% is giving weird girl energy. His thing is moss. All the weird girls have a Thing (Maya is spirit channeling, Trucy is magic, Kay is thievery) and Bdubs's Thing is moss. I haven't figured out my other "weird girls" things yet tho. I am open to suggestions.
Now for the prosecution we have
Grian
Etho
Cleo
Joel
Pearl
I think the vibes here aren't as strong as the defense but they still make sense.
Grian might be the weakest on this list. I know he often gives himself the label of detective, but he just didn't seem the type in the AA universe. The reason he's on prosecution is because he is stubborn and impulse enough to accuse the most likely subject and stick with that till the end (ignore the Jangler incident in s6). Also all of Edgeworth's sprites give Grian. Grian fits the Edgeworth sprite gallery to a T
Etho just feels like a prosecutor. He's smart, prepared, calm, and smug. I could see some Blackquill parallels here. He would also bring a bird to court that might attack you.
Cleo is another that just feels right at the prosecutor's desk. She is witty and sarcastic. It would be difficult to persuade them. Cleo also loves a bit of corruption, a past time for most prosecutors.
Joel is abbrassive and head strong. He is SO Franziska Von Karma. He would attack in the middle of court. He would attack the judge. He would call you stupid in the exact mannerisms of Franziska's "fools". Joel is sooo an overconfident prosecutor who is actually so fun and beloved.
Finally, Pearl. She was especially hard to place. I had trouble deciding between defense or prosecutor for her. In the end I settled on prosecution, but I think it would be fun if she had a Godot situation. That is, she was a defense attorney but switched after some traumatic incident (maybe she worked with Scott before!). Pearl can be calculated when she needs to be and crazed when she wants to be. She would provide an interesting opponent. Especially given her connections to most of the defense attorneys.
Now for our detectives:
Bigb
Tango
Ren
Skizz
Bigb somewhat aloof but silly. He let's the defense into crime scenes because they gave him a cookie. He often works with Grian, who likes Bigb too much to scream at him abt anything. Bigb is also prob like Ema Skye with her snackoos.
I could see Tango similarly to Gumshoe. He often works with Pearl and Etho (PET Mail), and he trusts them to prove someone guilty if they really are. He also gets along with the defense attorney's well, so he lets them investigate, as long as they promise not to tell his superiors.
Ren is giving Gumshoe in a much more "pathetic wet cat" way. He is underpaid. He is running around constantly. He is too tired to stop the defense getting in. He often works with Cleo. They have a similar dynamic to Edgeworth and Gumshoe.
And Skizz. He is excited to do his job. He gets along with everyone. He lets the defense in because he trusts that they are doing the right thing. He doesn't think it's fair if they don't get to investigate!
And finally, the judge
Martyn. I can't explain why, it just is Martyn. Somehow it makes the most sense. Martyn.
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neonpixel-pixie · 6 months ago
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🖤 Love letter for Vito Scaletta 🖤
NOTE: hello angels, i know my tumblr is not as active as i would like it to be, but i have lack of ideas and also nearly none time since school & socializing. (if anyone is waiting for moodboard or aesthetic, i will try my best to find my time this months). at least my creative writing class gave me some idea for some kind of postable material. we were supposed to write a love letters & from some reasons i decided to write one for vito scaletta. i know it is not the best one, but it was much fun to do it and i really gave a lot of feelings into it. i hope you will enjoy it and if you like it let me know in comments (maybe i will make more posts like that if you will be interested). ~ neonpixel-pixie 🧚🏻‍♀️✨
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My dearest Vito, About three hours ago, I have returned to Empire Bay after months away to spend the Christmas holidays with you, and guess what?! From your "great" friends, I found out that you ended up in prison because of your "amazing" job. Didn't I tell you to be careful before I left to Stanford? And didn't I also tell you that my parents can financially support us until you find a decently paid job? But no! Mr. Scaletta had to be as stubborn as always and not listen to me, right?! Oh, Vito, I love you so much, but why are you such an idiot? Why are you doing this to me... and on Christmas of all times?! Do you know how scared I was when you suddenly stopped writing letters to me and answering calls? I've spent nights crying because I thought you might have found someone else since we last saw each other! I know you're not like that. After all, you kept your promises like a decent man everytime. So I reassured myself thinking you must just be very busy. But despite that, I imagined the worst scenarios every day, either contemplating pulling out the hair of anyone who even looks at you or whinned like a fool for hours - not that I'm not doing that while I'm writing this letter too... and the fact that I'm writing it in your apartment doesn't really help my mood, especially when I imagine how we could spend time together today after endless waiting. You wouldn't believe how excited I was to finally see your face in person and not only on a few photographs I secretly grabbed from you before the start of the winter semester. And when I imagine that we could spend the holidays baking and decorating gingerbreads while listening to Christmas songs by Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin, it breaks my heart. The only thing currently keeping me somewhat sane is the scent of your cologne, whiskey, and cigarettes, which still lingers in the rooms and reminds me so much of your sweet embrace and passionate kisses. At least it warms my soul a bit and gives me hope that you'll get out soon from that hell on earth, and I'll feel the warmth of your embrace again. I promise that while I'm in town, I'll stop by to see you whenever possible. I love you and please take care of yourself. I'm afraid for you. Yours beloved, M. ♥
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tathrin · 1 year ago
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Angmeril 7, 13 & 40.
Question J?
Ahh, Angmeril! I would love to talk about her, thank you anon. (Questions from this list.)
7. What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?
I don't think it's something that has a lot of weight or meaning for her before she leaves the Greenwood, but once she (reluctantly) sails to the Undying Lands I think that she ends up pretty consumed by nostalgia, because she didn't want to come and doesn't want to be here and desperately misses her home and her people and she feels so very, very alone without them and her trees.
At that point anything can trigger the feeling/memories, and often does. The wind whispering through the branches of trees that sounds a little bit like it did at home? The wind not sounding like it did at home? A flash of the right shade of green on someone's clothes, a shadow that hits her face just right, the moon framed by the fingers of tree-branches overhead? etc etc.
Once more of her people cross the Sundering Sea and they decide to start making their own space in Aman, start the effort of bonding with and settling in a new forest, it gets better (because she has a distraction, because she has a place that might someday be home) but also worse, because there's so much more to remind her now; because this simple plain young forest doesn't have any of Greenwood's strength, its weight. Because for a moment she can maybe fool herself, glancing out at the trees...but they're not the same, and she can't fool herself for long, and then it hurts more.
So to the question of whether she enjoys the feeling...? Well, yes and no. Because it's painful, so painful, to feel forever sundered from your home and all you know and love. But her memories are also all she has left of the Greenwood now, so as much as the reminder of her losses hurts her, she cherishes them too.
13. What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?
Oooh this is an interesting one. Definitely some shade of green and that would likely suit her, with pale spring greens looking striking against her rich brown skin and darker, deeper greens making the sort of faded-bark-brown of her hair pop in contrast. For preference, I feel like she'd mostly dress more for blending with her trees than standing out against them, so it's convenient that that coloring suits her. She'd probably look equally good in blues, but greys and some shades of browns might make her look washed-out, I'm thinking. Reddish-browns would either look really rich and vibrant on her, or very wan; it would depend very much on the individual tones.
I think in general she dresses very plainly and practically, and especially during and following the Last Alliance she pretty much eschews any concerns for aesthetics. (See: the hair chopping incident.) Her only ornamentation in those years would be flowers that somebody (Thranduil, Merilgais, the kids, whomever) wants to braid into her hair or loop around her neck. Even in Aman, where there's endless time and no danger to fight, I think she'd stick with a lack of ornamentation and "superficial" interest in her own appearance both from habit and out of stubbornness—very plain clothes, braids whose complexity is solely a result of wanting to keep the hair held back securely rather than out of joy in the patterns themselves, etc—until Gimli comes along and starts gifting everybody with jewelry that's made with too much love and care to refuse. (Then it turns out some of the haughtier Noldor are irritated by seeing the "simple" Greenwood elves prancing around with brand new dwarf-made accessories, so she makes sure never to go out without at least one bracelet or hair-comb after that!)
40. How sensitive are they to their own flaws?
In some ways probably too much. Angmeril inherits her mother's sense of (over)responsibility, and takes on a lot of guilt for not doing enough—about anything: not being able to keep more of her people alive during the Last Alliance, not being able to fill-in for their missing parents for Merilgais better, not being able to free her forest of all threats, not being able to stay and continue to defend her trees and see her son grow up...etc. She's focused on the practicalities almost to the point of being cheerless sometimes when things are dark; even when there isn't an imminent threat she's still always running what-ifs? in her brain, constantly aware that there could be a threat and consequently very unforgiving of herself when she doesn't reach her own expectations.
In others, however, she'll definitely gloss-over both her own flaws and those of her fellow Greenwood elves, out of mingled pride and defensiveness. How dare those uppity High Elves say that Oropher was to blame for the "recklessness" of the charge that saw so many of her people killed? If Gil-galad wasn't such a pompous, arrogant, condescending ass that he refused to "set his ego aside" and order the rest of the army to follow what was obviously the right call, Greenwood wouldn't have been slaughtered and the siege would never had happened because they'd have defeated Sauron right then and there! And Gil-galad definitely had it coming when she decked him for expressing his sympathies for their losses too. She's protective of those she loves, sometimes at the expense of a rational assessment of reality.
Angmeril is not as (sometimes willfully) oblivious as some elves of the Greenwood (cough*Merilgais*cough) so she knows that sometimes they aren't in the right, or have to at least take a share of the blame, etc etc — but she's very good at mentally skipping-over that possibility whenever there's a chance to blame a Calaquendi, especially a Noldor and especially someone related to Gil-galad instead (Elrond is very lucky that she wasn't still in Middle-earth when he sent Legolas off with the Fellowship into danger y'all). She's also got a fair portion of that "the best way out is through" attitude that defines so much of Mirkwood's elves, so sometimes self-awareness falls to the wayside in favor of just yeeting herself directly at the problem until one or the other (or both) of them are eliminated. Problem solved, yes?
Thank you so much for giving me an excuse to think and ramble about Angmeril, anon, she's one of my favorite bits of Greenwood and I don't get to write her much due to timeline. Thanks!
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outoftheirdifferences · 1 year ago
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Imagine a story where scamp and annette collette and danielle swapped places.
HMMMM...
That would be interesting because it prompts the question of what, exactly, would make them decide to run away, especially if Scamp stayed put? I know Dani can be boisterous sometimes, so I suppose if she was the one to cause serious trouble instead of Scamp and was the one who got put outside as punishment? While Annette and Collette might tut about it behind her back, they'd definitely be more sympathetic to her than they were to Scamp... but even if together they decide that their parents' / Jim Dear's treatment of her is unfair, neither Anne nor Colle have Scamp's rebellious streak, so I don't see either of them willingly suggesting to run off.
Under the cut because, heh, you got me thinking and this ended up getting longer than I expected!
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Unless... Dani got away on her own, leaving her two sisters to panic and decide that they have to bring her back before their parents realise she's gone, to save her from getting into further trouble. She's certainly impulsive enough for that, and I'm sure Annette and Collette, between them, would be sure that together they could talk sense into her so would maybe count on the fact that they don't expect her to have got very far...
I guess maybe they do catch up with Dani fairly soon - whether before or after she runs into Angel, I don't know - but she refuses to come back because she feels like the rest of the family is treating her unfairly. I know that if Angel is present she'd subtly throw her weight behind the sisters' side of the argument, but Dani can for sure be stubborn, and if she feels that Annette and Collette aren't giving consideration to her feelings she would for sure blow them off. She'd also find Angel incredibly cool and try to attach herself to her.
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If they did make it to the junkyard though, Dani following Angel and her sisters trailing after still trying to make her see sense... well. Buster might not have recognised Scamp as Tramp's son right away, but three prissy spaniel girls who remind him far too much of the woman who Tramp ditched him for, and who so clearly smell of house dog? Oh, there's no way that would go over well. He'd definitely direct the conversation in such a way as to let them make fools of themselves, get the gang making fun of them, maybe even rough them up a little... all the while thinking of ways to use them to get back at Tramp for abandoning him all that time ago.
I wasn't sure at first exactly what strategy he'd settle on. I feel like the one he used in the movie, getting Scamp taken by the dog catcher, only came about because of the specific set of circumstances surrounding it, it wouldn't be something he'd default to automatically. He wouldn't just trap them somewhere, because he doesn't know if they've inherited Tramp's resourcefulness; if they have then he'd have to imagine that not much would hold them for long - plus, Buster wouldn't want to just make Tramp's daughters disappear, he'd want Tramp to know that he was the one behind it, that it was his revenge, and that there was nothing Tramp could do about it.
Maybe... maybe he'd get the pack to take the girls somewhere, then when Tramp shows up looking for them, throw them into some kind of lethal situation that he wouldn't be able to save them all from. He might be able to save one of them, or even two... but Buster knows what Tramp's limits are and would arrange it specifically so that he wouldn't be able to rescue all three, not in time, and he'd then forever have to live with the knowledge that he'd had to make a choice to save one of his daughters over another.
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Only... I imagine in the interim, while Buster's plotting and scheming and laying the hints to lead Tramp to that site, he has the rest of the pack keep guard over the girls... and while the others are disinterested, Angel gets talking to them. It starts off with her just subtly asking about their home, in a way that sounds like she doesn't much care, even as she secretly just indulged her longing for that type of life for just a moment... but that kicks off the old ache for a family in her. She's still SUPER guarded, especially with the rest of the pack around, but what they describe speaks to her... and maybe, too, the way that, even though Annette and Collette very much blame Dani for getting them into this, when the need arises both of them still stick their necks out to defend her despite that. There's a loyalty there that Angel hasn't known with the past families who dropped her at a moment's notice, and it sparks off something in her, gets her almost daring to hope again...
So in that confrontation, seeing what Buster's doing, seeing the realisation hit Tramp that he can't save all of his daughters alone (or even with the family members he's brought with him, because the rest of the pack hold them at bay to keep them from interfering)... Angel has made sure to position herself in just the right place that she can leap in and save one of the girls, allowing Tramp and Lady the time to rescue the other two. Buster, furious that his plan has been thwarted, turns viciously on Angel even as he commands the pack to tear Tramp and his family apart - if he can't wreck Tramp emotionally, then physically will have to do. He wounds Angel, then turns on Tramp while the rest of the pack, while horrified, still obey and tangle with Lady, Jock and Trusty...
...meanwhile Scamp, waiting at home for news, just wonders why nothing exciting ever happens to him... xD
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As to how we'd bring it to a climax from there... The girls would definitely race to help Angel and take care of her wounds... and I think maybe, when Tramp and Buster prove to be too even a physical match for either to get an upper hand, the four girls put their heads together and come up with a strategy to trip him up somehow. Despite being the cause of the trouble in the beginning, I feel like Dani's impulsive streak would prove to have its uses when she breaks from the plan at a crucial moment, but in such a way that things would have gone wrong if she hadn't and that results in a better outcome than they'd intended.
Ultimately Buster is defeated / trapped, and the rest of the pack, shaken by his brutal attack on Angel, feel no inclination to help him and run off to do their own thing. Buster is found and picked up by the dog catcher, while the family make amends and return home, bringing Angel with them to nurse her back to health... and where she ultimately ends up staying for good, of course.
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eldritch-edward · 2 years ago
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I told myself that the next fic would be light on unnecessary explanations. I promised myself I wouldn’t divulge into systems of sciences/magic/beliefs/etcetera.
Then I made alchemy Ed's primary special interest- Oh no.
The AU has Brotherhood's concrete science alchemy and the original's subjective philosophy alchemy. I keep having to do so much research for this nonsense. Ed's always dumping information and stories on randos in canon, and now I'm writing his infodumps so I need to learn this stuff. Ehhhhhhhhhh.
Curse my stubbornness to properly portraying an autistic ADHDer, it shall force my enlightening.
(We're actually having a lot of fun, don't let my dramatics fool you.)
Since Ed predominantly uses 03’s alchemy, it means I also have to research a lot about different mediums of art, and some architecture, and agriculture…
It's fun to see how the different forms of alchemy clash. I decided (and I don’t care about spoilering) that the concrete alchemy would be the one predominantly used in Amestris— the subjective philosophy one was the foundation and comes from ancient Xerxes. Since Hohenheim left all of his research materials and notes behind, the root form of alchemy is what Ed's most familiar with.
Eh, something not yet fully decided is how different regions utilize the practice of alchemy. Ishvall were the ones who truly invented it, but it was an art form that many were trying to cultivate. And since Ishvall is a relatively small region mostly surrounded by Amestris, even though the two people's had, shall we say, ‘iffy’ relations at the time (Amestris decided that Ishvall was a part of them in spote having never concurred them)— Amestris did end up getting something similar to Ishvall's alchemy (in that they gained access to the Gate to change physical things). And since Ishvall is also technically neighbors with Xerxes (theres a large gap of barren desert), Xerxes wound up getting… not so much the aspect of changing physical things but moreso accessing the Gate.
Ancient Amestris worked to change physical items, Xing used a similar seeming practice to change the body (does not access the Gate), Ishvall mostly admired the Gate as a form of worshipping Ishvala, and Xerxes used alchemy on the mind. That is why they were the ones to invent the Philosopher's Stone; they,d already been toying with parts of the person that were unseen.
While I'm on the topic, this is a mash of the different medias in the franchise. Meaning that events from both the original show and Brotherhood occurred. Hohenheim is much more similar to that of 03 than BH, and I am both excited and worried for when this throws my hypothetical readers for a loop. The actions of Von and Dante remain mostly the same from 03, only they did it in BH’s style (to all of Xerxes rather than a single city). In fact, word of Xerxes downfall and how it came about is what causes Ishvall to stop accessing the Gate. Whether they believe the Xerxes' fall to be from Ishvala's wrath or from people abusing/misusing Ishvala's love is undecided.
Most of this will absolutely have no relevance to the fic whatsoever, but I do not expect too many people to read this so blaaaa.
My original point was that Ed loves to learn and gets hyperverbal when excited and/or relaxed, so I've been having to figure out what all he'd be studying and the projects he does in his free time (transmuting air densities or causing oxygen to combust into sparks, for instance).
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nchant6dkitty · 3 years ago
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Enemies to lovers prompts!
Ew, don't smile at me, I might like you .
Ha! Jealous? Why would I be jealous of that idiot going out with someone else? Just looking at them makes me want to puke!
Nobody gets to be an asshole to B except me. You got that ?
The only kiss you're gonna get is a kiss from my fist!
Date A?! Ha!, I'd rather drown in acid than end up with that pain in the ass!
Wow, you finally said something sensible.
For once, though it pains me to say this... - I agree with B.
My eyes are up here , sweetheart.
Shut up and kiss me.
Do you hear that? It's the sound of me not caring.
Just so you know, I still hate you. This doesn't change anything.
Love, if I ever slept with you, those pretty legs of yours wouldn't be able to stand.
Oh please. You and I both know that I am your type.
I can't decide if I want to punch you or kiss you right now.
Are you blushing? Gross.
Shut up! Just...shut up!!
I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.
You're nothing! Do you hear me? You mean nothing to me.
Tell me one good reason why I should trust you.
Say it one more time. I dare you.
Do I look like someone who seems interested in a thing like you?
Are you happy now huh? Are you happy you've finally got your revenge?!
You finally ruined me. I hope you're happy now.
Just as I was starting to see you in a different light, you open that filthy mouth of yours.
You ruined everything! And you destroyed my heart along with it!
Look me in the eyes. Look me in the eyes and tell me you never loved me. Tell me I never meant anything to you. Go on. Break my heart again. Tell me this was all a lie.
Go on. Leave. Like everyone else.
Did you ever feel sorry for what you did to them? To me?
I've lost count of how many times I've fantasied about you.
I bet you would look even better without your clothes on.
You promised me. You promised you wouldn't kill them... - Then why?! Why did you kill them?!
Betray me again and I will kill you.
Did I stutter? Take it off.
Beg me first.
You know you're a pain in the neck, but... You're alright.
...why did you defend me?
Aww, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me. " It wasn't a compliment! "
So it was all a lie?! Even your so-called feelings for me?! Were you ever sincere to me at all?!
Unfortunately, I don't have enough middle fingers to let you know how I feel.
Why do I still like you, knowing you tried to kill me?
Remind me to kill you. Please.
I can't help it, you're fun to mess with.
Don't touch me! I don't need your sympathy!
I'm afraid I am incapable of love.
Touch me...please...
I'm a fool for believing someone like you could change.
How did you get those scars? I never did those to you.
Please don't push me away. Not you too.
...did you just compliment me? Oh my God, this must be a nightmare.
You are being abused, aren't you? Do you think I haven't noticed the bruises and scars you always try to hide?!
Why do you care? I thought you hated me.
You. Are. Mine. Do you understand?
I don't think you want to know the kind of things I'm thinking about right now.
* whispers in ear* did that turn you on?
That was the saddest attempt of flirting I've ever seen.
Are you that oblivious or are you trying to turn me on?
Look me in the eyes and say it. Say that you don't love me. I dare you.
Do you think I don't catch staring at me all the time? I see the way you look at me when you think I don't notice.
Ugh,open the windows. I don't wanna get infected with all this stupidity/ sweetness.
Why don't you go ahead and try?
I hate that I don't hate you anymore.
For some reason, I'm attracted to you. And I'm disgusted with myself.
The first person to make a sound loses.
Nothing brightens up my day than seeing you suffer.
Ew, don't compliment me. I might puke out my organs. ( lunch/ dinner )/ I might cringe out all my organs. / someone might think we're friends.
I hate the way you make me feel. I hate that you make me desire things. Things... a person like me would never dream about. You give me hope and it terrifies me.
It's better this way. Whatever was going between us was never destined to last.
That kiss/ that night never happened between us.
So... What are we? Enemies with benefits? Is that even a thing?
I'm going to break your jaw if you keep talking.
The only gift I would ever want to give is piercing a knife through your heart.
Why are you being so nice to me? It's disgusting.
C-can you hold me? / C-can you hug me? I know you hate me but I just want to be held right now.
I wouldn't sleep with you even if I was paid all the money in the world!
I- I have nowhere else to go...
I... I think I'm in love with them and I'm terrified.
Don't make this harder than it already is.
Touch a hair on their head and I will. Kill. You.
I'm gonna harvest your balls ( /organs) if you ever hurt B, you hear me?!
What do I have to do for you to trust me? ! What do you want me to do for you to stop shutting me out?!
I know I don't deserve your forgiveness. But I at least want you to know that what we had was real. There was never a moment with you where I faked my feelings. I... I truly loved you.
I can't lose you. Not you too.
I thought you died! Don't you ever scare me like that again.
Don't talk to A, they're going to infect you with their venom.
Wait- are you jealous?
Ew, don't hug me! I might get infected with your filthy germs.
Me? Like you? Ha! That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.
Fake dating? With you? Let me go home and laugh at that idea.
Just so to remind you, we're supposed to be a fake couple. I don't want you falling for me. Don't even think about falling in love with me you got that?
If you wanted to see me naked you could have just asked, you know?
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buttercuparry · 3 years ago
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Day 3: Jon Snow ( his love for Arya)
I don't think that I can add to this particular topic any more than what my fellow bloggers already have.
Textually Jon and Arya's relationship is something that is so rich that it has become a point of a massive confluence of a great many rhetoric.
For example we have Jon, the "bastard" of Winterfell. The young boy who has always felt unwanted, out of place and like a black blot in Catelyn Stark's family. Hence he yearns to know the person who had birthed him. 'The mother'. The woman who has been a tight lipped secret and a point of speculation among many.
Not my mother, Jon thought stubbornly. He knew nothing of his mother; Eddard Stark would not talk of her. Yet he dreamed of her at times, so often that he could almost see her face. In his dreams, she was beautiful, and highborn, and her eyes were kind.
Your half brothers, a voice inside reminded him. And Lady Stark, who will not welcome you. There was no place for him in Winterfell, no place in King's Landing either. Even his own mother had not had a place for him. The thought of her made him sad. He wondered who she had been, what she had looked like, why his father had left her. Because she was a whore or an adulteress, fool. Something dark and dishonorable, or else why was Lord Eddard too ashamed to speak of her?
And yet ironically, this boy would be the one person (in the current generation) to best know exactly what kind of woman his mother had been. He would know her eyes, her temperament and even to some extent her principles too. For his mother, Lyanna Stark, has found her doppelganger in her niece Arya- both in appearance and in spirit.
And of course Jon has Arya's love ( I mean it here in a platonic sense). And what a love it is! It is almost a boon given to him to make up for what has been so unceremoniously taken away. And this love that is shared between them goes with him beyond the walls of winterfell and bleeds into his future relationships.
His first encounter with Ygritte goes like this:
Jon could see fear and fire in her eyes. Blood ran down her white throat from where the point of his dirk had pricked her. One thrust and it's done, he told himself. He was so close he could smell onion on her breath. She is no older than I am. Something about her made him think of Arya, though they looked nothing at all alike. "Will you yield?" he asked, giving the dirk a half turn.
Then again:
"I never meant to steal you," he said. "I never knew you were a girl until my knife was at your throat."
"If you kill a man, and never mean t', he's just as dead," Ygritte said stubbornly. Jon had never met anyone so stubborn, except maybe for his little sister Arya. 
Later he has this to say about Val:
Val looked the part and rode as if she had been born on horseback. A warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her. 
And again:
Lonely and lovely and lethal, Jon Snow reflected, and I might have had her.
It is clear to see who has influenced Jon's taste in his love interests. And it goes both ways. In Arya's POV we have this interaction:
Dusk was settling as they stopped to rest... "I'm cold and wet," Hot Pie complained. "... We could have us a fire—"
"NO!" Arya and Gendry both said, at the exact same instant. Hot Pie quailed a little. Arya gave Gendry a sideways look. He said it with me, like Jon used to do, back in Winterfell. She missed Jon Snow the most of all her brothers.
While Arya has had positive interactions with almost all the male members of her family, it is Jon with whom she had the strongest bond (they could finish each other's sentence). And this thus becomes relevant as canonically Grrm has written a love song for the gendrya pairing.
Beyond these matters of the heart or perhaps as an extension of it: both Jon and Arya consider 'home' to be situated in a person. Throughout the series Arya has tried to return to Winterfell in hopes of reuniting with her family. But another wish that she has had, is to go north to the Wall, to reunite with Jon.
When at last she slept, she dreamed of home. The kingsroad wound its way past Winterfell on its way to the Wall, and Yoren had promised he'd leave her there with no one any wiser about who she'd been. She yearned to see her mother again, and Robb and Bran and Rickon . . . but it was Jon Snow she thought of most. She wished somehow they could come to the Wall before Winterfell, so Jon might muss up her hair and call her "little sister."
Her strongest belief is that even if the whole world rejects her for being unsatisfactory, she would always, always have Jon and indeed in ADWD we see the Lord Commander of Night's Watch proclaim that Arya's home is with him.
Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl.
This then brings into question the intensity of Jon's love for Arya. In AGoT Jon tries to desert in favour of joining Robb's quest for vengeance but ultimately he turns back and decides that the time has passed and he can longer interfere in the matters of the realm.
And yet in Adwd we see him risking his position as the lord commander (something that is highly coveted by individuals who have no hope to rise high in life within the constraints of the westerosi world order) of an 800 year old institution to save his 'sister' from the cruel clutches of Ramsay Bolton.
However Jon's decision to violate the neutrality of the NW has not been an easy one. There is a dilemma presented in the series across numerous povs: the constant push and pull of the two opposite facets in life, the facets of duty/honour vs love/desire of the heart. It has played a part in Arianne Martell and Arys Oakheart's relationship. It is present in Jaime arc: Cersei vs his duty as the commander of Kingsguard and I don't know if it can be said, but perhaps it was present in Rhaegar and Lyanna's storyline as well...so it is only fair that it should play a part in their son's life too.
Jon struggles throughout ADwD, going back and forth debating the worth of his honour and the depth of his love for his little sister:
"I have no sister." The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister?
I don't think anything else can summarize Jon's internal conflict more than these lines. But ultimately, with the threat of Bolton wanting his bride back, what triumphs over everything else is Jon's heart. He thus manipulates Stannis into form an alliance with the mountain clans, with the northern lords so that the Baratheon may participate in his quest to rescue Arya.
And of course! the sheer magnitude of this act is felt by his Black Brothers. The fact that a lord commander can neutralize the Watch's position as an nonaligned institute is unthinkable! And so Jon dies. He dies with his brothers betraying him. With the thought of Arya.
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hopelesshunny · 3 years ago
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the love languages part iv: quality time (f.w)
pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader
summary: fred wakes y/n one morning so that he can take her on a secret adventure.
warnings: kissing, mentions of war, mentions of death, mentions of eating/food, mentions of marriage/engagement.
word count: 2.2k
a/n: i was so excited to write this part as unlike the previous part of this series, quality time is my personal love language. i'm also quite excited to write the final part of this series as well as finish and post a number of wips so get ready for lots of writing soon!! luv ya'll so much.
*all photos are from pinterest*
series masterlist // part i // part ii // part iii
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A quiet groan left Y/N’s mouth as the sun pushed its way through the sheer drapes of hers and Freds shared bedroom. As she began to regain consciousness she could hear the birds chirping outside the window, excited for the morning, she could smell the familiar scent of fresh coffee brewing, but most importantly, she could feel the bed sheets beneath her instead of the comforting rise and fall of her boyfriend's chest. Sighing, she pushed herself out of bed and followed the smell that was escaping from the kitchen, slipper clad feet padding across the wooden floors.
“Mornin’ angel.” Fred smirked, pouring her a cup of coffee and placing it in her eager hands. “Thought I might have to carry you out of bed.”
“What time is it?” She muttered, laying her head against his chest as Fred placed a hand on her back, rubbing small circles.
“It’s 7 in the morning love.” He spoke into her hairline, causing her to pull back from him with a bewildered look.
“It’s Saturday, Freddie.” She exclaimed, still staring at him with a slack mouth.
“I know.” He chuckled, placing a kiss to the side of her head. “I’m taking you somewhere, so drink up.” He said, tapping the coffee cup before pulling himself from her to head back to their bedroom.
She turned to watch him as he sauntered down the hall, a smile forming on her lips at the sight of him. Lucky was an understatement, Y/N often thought that she must have been a saint in her past life and was being blessed in this lifetime with Fred Weasley. From the moment she saw him in first year, her in a uniform that seemed much too big for her body and he with flushed cheeks and a bright smile, she swore to herself that he was the man she was going to marry. In her second year when she watched him and George prank the Slytherins relentlessly and laugh loudly at their stunned faces, she remembered thinking that his laugh was like medicine, it could surely cure any illness. During third year she often found herself staring at Fred constantly from across the Great Hall, hoping that he would return the glance. Then came fourth year when she finally caught his eye, so much so that as he and George ran down the hall, attempting to escape some self-inflicted trouble, he almost ran directly into a wall due to his staring.
Since that moment that had been inseparable - it had begun as Fred’s adolescent attempt to flirt with her but grew into the most beautiful friendship she ever had, when she couldn’t get the hint that he was interested in being more than that. Which is why his invitation to the Yule Ball shocked her in sixth year and his early departure from Hogwarts destroyed her in seventh year. Looking back now all of that seemed silly, from that first glance she caught of Fred she knew that they would find their way together somehow and after the war when she finally had the nerve to walk back into the shop to see if he made it out alive that’s exactly what happened.
The heavy door to the shop creaked as she pulled it open, her heart had plummeted to her stomach as soon as she saw the building from down the street. She was scared, terrified that the ghastly war had taken Fred as its own, so scared that she had pushed off confronting the possibility of it until now.
“Hello?” She called into the empty space. “Freddie? George?” Please be alive, please be alive, is all her brain could muster up to think.
“Y/N?” A voice called from the back. “Y/N!” George shouted as he came into view, running towards her to smother her in a hug.
“Hi.” She spoke softly into his chest, still fearing the fate of his twin. “Fred?” She asked quietly when she pulled back from the hug, concern and worry lacing her features. But the raging storm of guilt and terror within her was calmed when George flashed her a genuine smile and turned to call towards the back room.
“Fred! It’s Y/N, she’s alive.” With that Fred came bustling out from the far end of the shop, his eyes bloodshot, hair messy but that golden smile still plastered on his face. When she saw him tears that she had been holding back for days came flooding down her face as he picked her up, wrapping his arms impossibly tight around her body. George chuckled to himself before making his way up the stairs leaving two lovers that were too stubborn to realize they were lovers to finally become lovers.
“You scared me Y/N.” Fred whispered into her neck. “I thought I’d lost you.” She let out a choked sob before pulling back to look at him.
“There was so much happening, I couldn’t find you.” She said. “And then once it was all over I was worried th-that something had happened and that you w-were.” She trailed off, trying to find the words that made the most sense to her in this very moment but before she could, he was softly shushing her, planting her feet on the ground and placing a sweet kiss to her forehead.
“No need for any of that. I’m here, you’re here, we’re okay.” He spoke, her face in his hands. “I guess now’s as good a time as any to tell you that I’m in love with you Y/N.” He chuckled, earning a giggle from her.
“Fred Weasley, I am way ahead of you on that one.” She retorted, leaning up to capture his lips with hers.
“Okay Weasley, where are we going.” She said, emerging from their bedroom to find Fred on the couch, his head resting back on his neck before snapping it forward at the sound of her voice.
“You know.” He started, getting up from the couch to move toward her, placing his hands on her waist. “I see you every single day and it still feels like that first time I almost snogged the wall trying to catch a glimpse of you.”
“Always a charmer, you were.” She giggled before he reached down to grab her hand, pulling her out the door and down the street. He swung her hand in his as he pointed out abstractly shaped clouds saying they looked like her hair in the morning or her butt when she leaned over to pick something up.
“You still haven’t told me where we’re going.” She spoke.
“We’re going right here.” He said, pulling her into an ice cream shop. “Well, we’re starting right here.”
“Starting?” She questioned. “What do you have up your sleeve, Freddie?” He chuckled at her inquisitive state as she never really trusted Fred when it came to surprises because it typically ended in her hair being dyed a garish colour or something seemingly delicious tasting absolutely horrendous. But this surprise was good, he reassured her with a soothing hand on her back.
With ice cream cones finished and Y/N’s mind still wandering, the pair was now standing in a lush garden in the countryside, wisteria trees blowing gently in the summer breeze as Fred clasped his hands over her eyes. When he finally pulled them back to reveal the gorgeous sight in front of her all she could manage was a gasp, taken back by the pure beauty of the garden, so much so that she hardly saw the picnic blanket he must have set up ahead of time.
“It’s beautiful Freddie.” She whispered, her hand pressed against her chest in amazement.
“Just like you.” He said, wrapping his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on top of her head. “Hermione actually told me about this place after she leant you that book about trees.” He chuckled, recalling the memory of his girlfriend passionately telling him about a different tree somewhere in the world every morning.
With that he ran and landed on the blanket with a thud outstretching his arms as giggles bubbled from her mouth. She gladly accepted his offer however, laying on the blanket with him, her back against his side as she gazed up at the bright blue sky, through a veil of wisteria, her hands finding his to gently run her fingers along his knuckles. From their position on the ground Fred had the perfect view of Y/N’s face, the face he had memorized so many years ago, the face that lit up the first time he had ever spoken to her and everyday since then.
He and George sprinted down the hall, Filch hot on their heels as boisterous laughter filled the air, adrenaline running through both their veins like hot lava, setting their bodies on fire. Then he saw her, coming around the corner, books clutched tightly to her chest as her eyes wandered out the window, but his remained solely on her. A little too much it seemed because when he finally forced his line of sight away from her, he found himself face to face with a wall, just inches away from having his face planted flat against it. He brought up on his heels before ducking away into a closet, George after running far ahead of him.
He cracked the closet door open just enough so that he could steal a look at her, he watched as she giggled and shook her head and then made her way down the hall. Was she laughing at him? Was she laughing at him because she thought he was funny? Or because she thought he was a fool? He thought about this for a moment before finally deciding that he could make either one of them work. Once the coast was clear and he was sure he was no longer being chased, Fred practically fell out of the closet and began sprinting down the hall again but this time in the opposite direction, in the direction of her. When he finally caught up to her, he layed a gentle hand on her shoulder causing her to turn towards him before he doubled over out of breath.
“Just give me, give me one second.” He said, holding his hand up to signal for her to wait. She chuckled at him as he then decided to take a seat on the ground still attempting to pump air into his lungs. Y/N sat on the floor of the hallway with him, pulling her knees up to her chest as he looked at her in surprise. “I’m Fred Weasley.”
“I know.” She said before giving him a shocked look, angry at her mouth for betraying her. “I mean, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”
“I think we’re going to be great friends.” He replied, while she flashed him a smile that could light up the entire castle on the darkest of nights.
Great friends they were, if you consider great friends, people who can’t sleep without each other, kiss each other good morning and good night and just about a thousand times in between everyday, they were the best of friends, if best friends were in love with one another. Fred couldn’t imagine his life without Y/N in it, couldn’t bring himself to imagine being with someone else, she was all he ever wanted, all he’d ever need.
“Is that a squirrel over there?” Fred questioned. “Climbing up that tree?” He pointed to a tree in the distance, causing Y/N to sit up straight, shielding the sun from her eyes with her hand as she squinted in an attempt to see what Fred was on about.
“I don’t see a squirrel.” She scoffed. “You must be seeing things Fre-.” She started, turning around to see Fred kneeling on one knee in front of her, a silver ring propped up in a velvet box grasped in his hands as his eyes searched hers. Shock ran deep on her face and a rush of nerves took over Fred as he couldn’t quite read her reaction.
“Y/N, from the moment I met you I’ve wanted to do this. I’ve thought about asking you to marry me almost everyday since fourth year and hell if I had a ring back then I would’ve done it. But I have one now so I’m asking-.” Fred began, still tentatively studying her face.
“Yes!” She cut him off, launching herself into his arms. “Yes, I’ll marry you any day and I would’ve married you when we were fifteen if you asked.” She peppered his face with kisses as he laughed loudly, slipping the ring onto her finger. Tears pricked her eyes as she pulled back to look at the new addition to her hand but her eyebrows knitted themselves together at the collection of numbers engraved in small font on the underside of the band.
“Numbers?” She questioned, shooting him a quizzical look as he chuckled.
“Coordinates.” He responded. “To the exact wall I almost hit the first time I saw you.”
taglist (join here!!)
@onlyfreds @fandomhideout @lilypad-55449@youngblood199456 @thanxxskz @emma67 @gaycatlord-stuff@alicetweven @a-castle-of-glass @youcantbesirius@omghufflepuff @izzyyy-1​ @70sweasleys
if your url is crossed out i could not tag you!!
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btsxmalereaders · 4 years ago
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Valentine's Special Prompt Game
Prompt: Blind date / Set up by friends.
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Male Reader
Word Count: 1,2k
Genre: Fluff
Masterlist
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"I promise he's really nice!"
"Of course he is." You sarcastically say after rolling your eyes. "I've been told that tons of times before. I won't fall for your promises this time."
Jimin groans and takes a seat in front of you, bending over a little, wanting your attention on him as he starts to speak again.
"I know you've had bad dates befo-"
"Bad dates?!" You gasp, finally daring to look at him in the eye. "Do I have to remind you how the last guy I went out with spent the whole night crying over his ex boyfriend?"
Jimin inevitably chuckles at the remembrance of how you came back earlier to the apartment with a infuriating expression on your face, swearing you would never agree again to go on a blind date; especially a one set up by him.
"Okay, I take the whole responsibility of that. I should have know that! I thought he changed, though."
"Whatever. I'm not going on another date."
Jimin lifts his hands up in surrender, "Okay, but could you please hear about him? He's the nicest guy I've met, and he's willing to have a date after being single for a long time."
You think about it for a moment before nodding, making your friend smile. "Great! So, his name is Jeon Jungkook, he's 2 years younger than us, and I think you've seen him before. Remember when you came to the dance studio to pick me up to grab lunch? Last month."
"Oh, the tall guy with tattoos?" There's a hint of interest in your tone that makes Jimin giggle. He nods as an answer. "Okay... keep talking."
Convincing you to make you go on that date was easier than Jimin thought it'd be.
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"Are you sure you gave me the right adress?"
"Yeah, I did. You're already there?" Jimin speaks on the other line.
"It's a thrift store."
"I know, don't you think it's a great idea for a first date?"
"I don't know if you are fooling around but right now it isn't the time to do so!"
Jimin wholeheartedly laughs, "Trust me. You'll love it."
"I see him coming. If it ends up being terrible I'll physically hurt you."
"Sure thing. Have fun!" And he ends the call.
Jungkook introduces himself with a shy smile on his face. You're finally able to look at him with detail; the black ink decorating his skin of his arms and hands, his big sparkling doe eyes, his marvelous smile and pink tinted cheeks. Jimin was right, he is really charming.
"By the look in your eyes I'm guessing Jimin didn't tell you what is all this about, right?"
"I don't! So, mind telling me what are we going to do?"
Jungkook smiles softly at you, "He has told me you're very competitive, is that right?"
"Oh my god, please tell me he didn't tell you about the chicken wings incident."
"No, but now I'm interested on that." He lets out a laugh, which makes you feel instantly flustered. "Actually, I am very competitive myself, too. And I can see you too have a great sense of fashion, so... We're making outfits for each other today! The winner gets to choose the place we're having dinner after this."
"I love it, but how do we know who's the winner?"
"Jimin, of course."
"Right, I should have know."
Jungkook extends his hand for you to grab it. "Shall we go inside, then?"
You gladly take it, first taking a look in all the hallways of the store before starting to pick clothes.
As you do it, you start a simple and carefree conversation about yourselves and your interests. Turns out you two have a lot in common and that makes you wonder how come Jimin never told you about him. So far you think he is really nice and easygoing.
You get to try some of the clothes you keep gathering, sharing your thoughts about it and complimenting each other, which keeps you two smiling the whole time. After some jokes, laughter and pictures taken together,  you are on your final looks and decide to send the pics to Jimin, who deliberates that Jungkook is the winner.
"Not gonna lie, I love what you chose for me. I am definitely gonna experiment with this style from now on." Jungkook admits as you two exit the store, still wearing the outfit you end up buying.
"I am glad you like it, it suits you! And you just made me look thousands times more stylish. My closet and I are forever grateful."
Jungkook chuckles and grabs your hand again and starts walking on an unknown direction. "I know a great place over here."
"Awesome, I don't think I've been here before. You live near here?"
"No, but with the dance crew we used to hang out nearby really often."
That leads to another chill conversation in which you get to know each other a little bit more. He was right about the place, since you think it's really nice and casual, which makes the atmosphere comfortable for you two.
The night goes perfectly, and you really think that Jungkook is someone you would definitely have a second date with. Maybe, if things work out, have something more formal.
When's time to leave, Jungkook offers to pay for you, to which you immediately reject.
"Oh no, let me pay for it!"
"I insist, I'll pay for you!"
You laugh at his stubbornness and the way he wrinkles his nose, but that gives you an idea; the perfect excuse: "How about this, we split the bill and you pay on the second date."
Jungkook blushes and nods. "Only if you pay on the third one, though."
With a big smile you answer, "Gladly."
Later you are in front of your apartment, staring at each other with nervous smiles and fidgeting fingers.
"I had so much fun today," He starts. "Actually, this has been the best date I've ever had. For real."
"Me too! Honestly, I didn't know how much I needed to do this. I am so glad it turned out this way." You agree. "It's so nice to meet someone so easygoing and nice like you."
You two exchange phone numbers and share a hug, in which Jungkook takes the opportunity to leave a kiss on your cheek, making you blush.
"See you soon?" He shyly asks.
"Of course," You reply and wave your hand. "Goodnight, Jungkook."
Once you get to your floor and enter the apartment, Jimin is already waiting anxiously for you, looking at you with curiosity.
"So?! How did it go?!"
You plop down on the sofa right next to him and give him a tight hug, "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"
Jimin laughs, "I told you. Aren't I the best friend you've ever had?"
"An angel sent from above."
After you tell him all about your date and get ready to go to bed, your phone buzzes a couple of times. You unlock it to see the messages are from Jungkook.
I really had a great time today, and I actually didn't thank you for it
So thank you!
I am really looking forward meeting you again
Goodnight, _____ :)
He attached some of the pictures he took of you and the ones you took in front of the big mirror on that thrift store, and you couldn't believe your luck.
Agreeing on going to this date was the best decision you've ever made.
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margarethelstone-2 · 3 years ago
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if I loved you less (i might talk about it more)
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requested by one and only @nerdypanda3126. thanks so much!
Read on AO3!
"Taichi... You still like me, don't you?"
The young man in question raised his eyes from the book he'd been trying to read for the past quarter, and fixed them on Chihaya, confused. It wasn't just the question that surprised him, even though its content sure would have been enough to puzzle a better prepared soul.
The fact that Chihaya had barely spoken at all for most of their time together today was the main reason why he felt startled by her words now.
She really had been quiet for most of the day, even though they were spending it at his place, determined, as she herself had claimed, not to get in the way of his studies. Taichi had tried to make her realise that it wasn't what he wanted at all, that the very reason he'd invited her over was to get a break from all the reading and just relax a little. He'd explained over and over again that he needed her to be a distraction; tried – unsuccessfully – to get it into her head that she was actually doing him a favour. He knew how much of a workaholic he could be and so he specifically planned the visit as a means to enforce the necessary break he might not have taken otherwise.
He had told her all of that. And yet, she'd remained quiet.
All the way until now, that is.
And just what on earth was she going on about?
"What's with that question? You know the answer to that," he replied casually, almost dismissively, before going back to the textbook in his hand. He really had no idea what had gotten into her all of the sudden, but then again, he didn't care to delve on the subject. He knew she'd tell him anyway.
"I was just wondering," she answered, a trace of hurt ringing in her voice; Taichi needed to hold back the smile that sprang on his lips at the sight of her pout. "Is it so bad if I do?"
Taichi hummed in thought.
"Is that why you've been so quiet all day?" he asked right after. "You've been just busy considering my possible affection for you?"
"Stop with the mockery. I'm thinking of it seriously."
"Oh? And what conclusions did you come to?"
"I wouldn't have asked if I'd come to any."
He had no choice but to close the book and put it away after a statement he'd just heard. Not that he minded. Throwing it on the floor rather carelessly, he sat up straight in his corner of the couch and, resting his chin on his palm, he fixed his gaze on the girl seated by his desk on the other side of the room.
She really was being impossible today.
Well, he supposed that wasn't anything new. He'd known Chihaya long and well enough to not be fazed by the swings in her mood or the inane schemes she so often came up with. He had learnt to expect the unexpected, every day, every hour of his otherwise boring life, because that was obviously the only way to keep up with her. The one thing he had to keep doing if he still wanted to be a part of her life.
Because that was how Ayase Chihaya was.
Chihaya. His best friend. His fiercest karuta rival. The girl he'd been in love with since fourth grade of primary school and the girl who'd rejected him straightforwardly at the very beginning of their third year in Mizusawa High. The girl whom he'd thought he could never win over, on whom he'd given up again and again, fooling himself he could move on and blight the love he'd had for her since he'd been a ten year old squirt.
He sighed and shook his head, remembering her question from a moment before.
She knew damn well he was still head over heels for her.
She was his girlfriend, for sanity's sake.
"I can't believe you actually have asked, you know," he picked up with the same fake weariness he'd shown before, if only to cover his growing amusement. Seeing her very real anxiety made him assume a more solemn expression, as he asked, "Seriously, what brought this on? Are you mad about something?"
"I'm not mad," she disagreed instantly, and with good emphasis.
"Are you unhappy then? Did I do something to make you feel like that?"
Again, she denied. Now she just looked sad. "That's not it."
Wrong. She was flustered.
"Then what is it?" Taichi asked, as gently and warmly as he could. Not for the first time, he felt grateful for all the hard training his patience had received. It was obvious that Chihaya needed that from him now. "It's not like I could get over you like this, you of all people should be aware of that. You're the most important person in my life. The best companion I could think of. You know I get lonely and grumpy when I can't see you, and you know I still get absurdly jealous, even though I hate being so. And so I can't help but think there's something else I'm not doing right."
Taichi stopped there, waiting for her to, if not answer his question, then to contradict him in one way or another, at least. After all, he really was at a loss.
He thought he'd been doing a fairly good job as a boyfriend, when all was said and done. He'd already shared Chihaya's most important interest and it wasn't difficult to at least understand the new ones she'd found. He made sure to be there for her when she needed him, and tried his best to give her space when she needed that more. True, he'd had some trouble coming for help on his part, but even that was a thing of a past rather than present – certainly not something that could shock Chihaya into thinking like this.
He would think that the all-day-long date he'd come up with and seen through in celebration of their first anniversary as a couple last week was a good show of how much he still cared.
He wasn't perfect. Neither was she. But never in his life would he have thought that he'd failed to get his feelings across.
"Chihaya," he prompted once more, his voice audibly quieter. "Please tell me what it is. I can't fix it if I don't know what's broken."
She looked up from the floor she'd been glaring at for a while and met his gaze, a shadow of unease still clouding her big brown eyes. She opened her mouth to answer; she closed it instantly and looked away again, abashed. There was a hint of pink on her cheeks, and it only grew darker as the time passed, though whether it was because of embarrassment or something more alarming, Taichi couldn't tell yet.
"Chihaya–"
"It's because you never say it."
He supposed his eyes opened wider than ever, what's with the utter astonishment he felt growing inside him immediately. For a few moments, he could do nothing but stare, the craziness of the situation overwhelming enough to successfully prevent him from forming a sensible thought, and much less coming up with any kind of solution. One look at Chihaya was enough to sober him up, however.
She was distressed. She was insecure.
No matter how stupid he thought the reason to be, he could hardly allow the situation to last.
With a groan that was bound to startle her, he bent over and buried his face in his hands.
Only one thing he could do now.
"Come here," he said, his face still hidden behind one hand as he tore the other one away and beckoned her towards him. "No excuses. You'll talk later. Now just come here, please."
She did, albeit tentatively, as if afraid of the reaction he might show her. With his patience starting to run thin at last, Taichi didn't wait for her to cover the whole distance, instead reaching out and grabbing her by the wrist, only to pull her down on the couch right next to him.
And then he pulled her even closer, locking her in a bone-crushing hug.
"I'm gonna do something to you," he mumbled into her hair, his voice a mixture of laughter and complaint. "You cruel, cruel, woman. Have you no heart? Here I am, mind reeling as I try to figure out what the hell I did wrong again and you say it's because I don't say I like you enough. As if you didn't already know you've got a firmer hold of my heart than I ever did. Tell me, am I really this bad at showing you that I care that you doubt it?"
It was Chihaya's turn to growl at him, though it surely – and fortunately – didn't stop her from burying her face even deeper into his chest and digging her fingers into the shirt on his back. Again, Taichi laughed at the display, but didn't loosen his grip one bit.
That silly, unbelievable, most beloved girl.
"This and that are different things," she muttered finally in response against his buttons, her stubborn indignation probably being the only reason why he could discern the words at all. "There are different kinds of love languages. We even talked about it, you know."
"Yes. And as far as I remember, we've already established that neither of us cared for this one. So your argument doesn't work."
Well, this was a lie, or at least, it wasn’t fully true. After all, he could never get tired of hearing her say those words, to him and him only. But he didn't need it that much, not when he already knew of so many other ways in which Chihaya expressed her love towards him. He'd always assumed it was the same for her, too.
Funnily enough, he still didn't think he was mistaken.
"I've had feelings for you for the past fourteen years, you dummy, I wouldn't change my mind just because you decided to return them," he threw in only half-jokingly, as if to make sure he got his point across before moving onto the next part. "So? Care to tell me what's the source of it all?"
He felt her tense against him for a split second, only to relax in the next moment with a long, weary sigh. He waited for her to make herself comfortable in his arms, shifting ever so slightly to make it easier for them both. And then he heard her speak.
"I met up with Kana-chan the other day," she admitted weakly. "Her and Desktomu. And I guess... They're always so sweet with one another, now more than ever. I suppose... It made me feel a little jealous. But most of all, it just made me think."
"And you decided that I'd fallen out of love with you, because I don't talk like Komano does?"
"I didn't decide anything, I told you already. I just wondered if maybe I was doing something wrong to deserve that treatment. Sorry for being so terribly scared of losing you again because of my own foolishness."
Words caught in his throat as Taichi tried to protest against this new development. That last addition Chihaya had made – and more importantly, the wounded, truly uncertain voice with which she'd spoken – would have been enough to melt his heart even if he had actually been angry with her. Right now, he had to hold back from grabbing her by the chin and kissing her senseless until all the idiotic ideas evaporated from her overworked mind.
The things she did to him without as much as trying.
You evil little imp.
"They're newly-weds. You can't use them for reference," he managed to stutter out at least, conveniently ignoring the hoarseness of his own voice and the emotion that hovered behind it. "Not to mention, those two are the opposite of us when it comes to talking about feelings openly. There's a reason they got together six years before we did. Just because something works for them doesn't mean it's the best course for us to take as well."
He smiled again and planted a kiss at the top of her hair, before adding, "I still can't believe you really doubted me, though."
She huffed and pulled away, although she still didn't move from her place on the couch. They were still close; close enough for Taichi to see the light reflecting in her eyes and the blush that hadn't left her cheeks, and to reach out and comb her tangled hair with his fingers. Another gesture so full of love, even though it was but a fraction of all that she made him feel.
"Well, since I never understood what had made you fall in love with me in the first place, it's only natural that I'd have this kind of doubts."
He chuckled and she smiled on her part, her obstinacy giving it to the desire to just be with him. It was another thing Taichi was able to read in her eyes – and, knowing the feeling well enough from his own experience, he had no trouble deciphering it.
Delayed, the first part of her sentence entered his brain.
What made me fall for you, I wonder?
He didn't know. It had been so long since he’d realised his feelings after all, and longer still since those feelings had been born. Even all those years earlier, he probably wouldn’t have been able to point out the reasons clearly, never mind finding the one spark that had started it – trying to do so now seemed downright impossible.
There were so many reasons, after all.
Maybe it was because she had never considered herself a possible love interest for anyone, first when she was too engrossed in karuta and later, when she thought she didn't deserve to be one. Maybe it was her hot-headedness and her drive, and how different she'd always been from him, and yet never failed to tell him how much she'd admired and envied those qualities of his that she lacked.
Maybe it was the fact that she'd always been with him, so close and so dear and yet so impossible to grasp.
Maybe it was because she'd loved him long before either of them dared believe that was the case.
Maybe...
"Maybe," he said out loud, though in fact not loud at all, his lips moving against her forehead as he leaned in to put a kiss there, too. "Maybe, if I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more."
Edging away, Taichi saw tears gathering in her eyes. He wiped them away with his thumb, his hand cupping the side of her jaw fittingly.
And then he kissed her properly.
Just like he had wanted to ever since he'd first seen her that day.
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regrettablewritings · 3 years ago
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I'm feeling a Nevada Ramirez mood (love that damn asshole) but if you aren't feeling writing for him then I give this up to authors choice. But from the current ships numbers perhaps: 3 (because I wanna get fucked up), 9 (because I have to), 10 (because I would like to know your thoughts) and 11 (because I am wildly curious)
("I'm feeling a Nevada Ramirez mood" Translation: "I want a daddy to spit in my fuckgng mouth" Sorry, I don't make the rules about language translation.🤷🏽‍♀️)
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3. Which one outlives the other, and how they cope:
You'd always kind of sort of lived in a fairytale. In hindsight, though, you probably had to: It's what probably made being with his stupid ass a bit easier. Kind of like you were living in one of those stories where a monster that terrorized some bucolic tiny town could be brought down to size by a soul of pure heart. Maybe even regain his human form.
If only your story had had a happy ending.
In a way, Nevada felt he was to blame for that; clearly, sticking with you had really only encouraged that type of behavior, or so he thought.
And now look where that ended you: All that gross-ass makeup to make you look like your last moments hadn't been agonizing (the coroner insisted it had been quick, but Nevada called bullshit); those stiff clothes that you never would've worn unless you had to (Nevada never would've put you in them if he had more of a choice); eyes closed, never to see the telltale signs of the one you left behind coming undone (actually, in a sick way, Nevada didn't necessarily mind this; it spared him the humiliation).
There wasn't even necessarily any sign that you had been targeted; the general theory really was that you'd been taken out by a stray bullet. But in some part of him, Nevada couldn't believe that. He didn't want to. It just made so much perfect sense in his mind: You were just minding your own damn business, walking home after a shift ended a little later than expected. You were the very picture of innocent and unsuspecting, all vulnerable and without him. In short: That was the perfect time for some rival gang or some shit to take a shot at you.
And the thought made Nevada's blood boil to the point that it evaporated into the air, further polluting these fucking New York skies with his inner toxicity being exposed. He'd make whoever did this to you choke. But not before roughing them up a lil bit. Maybe cut off some fingers. Some toes . . . Maybe a pound of flesh as payment if there was any time left, who knows.
But first, his men had to find them.
To say that Nevada does not take your passing well would be an understatement. He's somehow more violent. Somehow a lot less tolerant of bullshit (and he already wasn't before). If anyone so much as blinks wrong, they run the risk of having a nearly feral fuck jump at them and attempt to rip their face off.
His men, who already feared and respected him, dare not occupy the same room as him any longer than they have to. They miss you as a person, of course, but they never knew just how much of a hold you had on their boss until that hand was gone.
Sure, he goes through the usual motions seen in others, like sitting in his chair, downing copious amounts of whatever was left in his liquor cabinet. And, of course, there's the stages of grieving: He's eternally stuck oscillating between guilt and anger.
He was supposed to be the one that got killed out here, him! Not you: Sweet, kind, patient, hard-headed, stupid-assed you! He got that, why couldn't God get with the program on that!? He was the dealer, the gang leader putting himself into all kinds of problems with others; you were just some innocent bystander who happened to get caught in his web, decide they liked it there, and inexplicably stuck around.
And now you're dead. He was being selfish, you were being stupid, and now you were dead.
He stares blankly at nothing before humming with a sip of whatever the hell is in his glass now, he doesn't fucking remember. Can't taste it anyway; his sense of taste disappeared, floated away with your spirit the moment he learned of your passing.
The pure-hearted soul that kept the village safe was gone; all that remained was the carnivorous beast, ready to rampage and raze the town to the ground.
9. Which one swears more?:
Just in time for the 20210 Summer Olympics, we have a new category to observe: Fucking Goddamn Cussing Up a Shitstorm! Representing Washington Heights, we have a cussing prodigy, Nevada Ramirez! Also representing Washington Heights by way of duel citizenship between the apartments, we have . . . You!
Okay but in all seriousness, Nevada is definitely the gold medal-winner here. Science indicates that cussing helps to relieve stress and for as collected as Nevada likes to appear in front of others, 5'9" is not a lot of space for stress to go. He's constantly bottling up that shit! What's worse, though, is that the fucker makes it sound elegant.
How does he make "fuck" sound so gentle when it leaves his lips with a cold-eyed glower!? Who the hell knows!
Erstwhile, you're a pretty good runner-up. Even if you were a big cusser before getting with Nevada, you could never catch up with him -- he's just had way too many experiences where he felt the need to pepper the ambience with some cursing. And if you weren't as into it before . . . I'm sorry, boo, but you'll be picking up that nasty habit of his like you were picking up the torch for the Cussing Olympics. Bon chance!
10. What TV shows they watch together, and which ones they hide from the other:
Noah . . . How did you know I was planning to do a preference on what characters watch with their S/Os? Not that I can confirm or deny that Nevada was in that one but --
Nevada didn't really watch TV a whole lot before you two got together. It was a mix of him not having a lot of time and him not having a lot of care to keep up with anything. Everything is so goddamn serialized, what's even the point?
Really, the only reason he bought subscriptions to streaming services was to keep you entertained for when he had to be out the house or some junk. But there were a few too many times where he'd come home late and find you curled up on the couch.
". . . The hell're you still doing up --"
"Ssh!"
". . . Did you just --"
"Yes, now sshhh! I'm about to see who this chick picks to go to bed with."
Of course, 'Vada is pissed; people don't shush him, he shushes them! What the fuck could be so interesting that you'd do that!? He takes his glare from you to the screen . . . and about thirty minutes in, he gets it. He'd never say it out loud, but deep down, he knows why you like Love Island. It's stupid, it's trashy, he hates these dumbass twenty-somethings making drama out of nothing, and for fuck's sake will somebody talk to the girl with the dark skin and short hair she's the hottest one there --
Of course, he tries hard not to show his interest, taking seats next to you when you're watching "because he's tired", adding his own commentary "because these pendejos need to know better", etc. And, of course, it doesn't fool you in the slightest. As amused as you are, though, you don't tease him about it; you're afraid that if you do, your stubborn boyfriend would put up a fight in the form of leaving you to watch your silly little show by yourself. And you really don't mind sharing the show with him . . . No, solitary watching is reserved for your cartoons.
Nevada may let things with you slip to a point but the moment he learns you like to watch anything animated, he's on your ass with the ruthless taunting. Which is like the pot calling the kettle black because 'Vada's secret pleasure is even worse: daytime soap operas. Admittedly, there's some sentimentality connected to them (he remembers being at his Abuela's house and seeing her get really into some telenovelas), but the fact of the matter is really more that he's invested in the drama and bullshit going on between all this lunatics who we're supposed to buy as being doctors or CEOs or whatever over-glamorized positions they're supposed to have.
He doesn't actually get to watch them often but . . . hey, that's what he pays certain grunts to do for him.
Okay I had way too much fun writing these so lemme just cut myself off now. Thanks for asking!!!
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ashleyfanfic · 4 years ago
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FROST AND FLAME - CHAPTER 2 COMING MONDAY Hello everyone! Hope you didn't think we had forgotten about this little gem. We've actually finished the second chapter and are nearly done with the third! We hope you all enjoy this when posted. And just because you don't see us for a while, don't assume we don't have things up our sleeves (we always do). So, without further ado, here's a little tease of the next chapter!
***** Ghost shifted in the back seat and Jon’s eyes flicked to the ruby red ones staring back at him in the rearview mirror. If it was just the two of them he’d probably be droning away, but then again Ghost always agreed with him. Or he usually did. At the moment he was giving Jon a look that was more than a little unimpressed.
He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out with a sigh and forced himself to speak. “Enjoyin’ the view?”
She turned a brilliant smile on him. “Yes! It truly is beautiful. So pristine and untouched. There's something magical about it,” she added with a wink.
Much to his annoyance, his face heated, his ears even burning. No one ever appreciated what he did, not for long anyway. Maybe she would be different, though he didn't have much hope.
“How long will it take us to get there?”
“‘Bout two more hours to the Wall itself,” he answered.
“How far do you think we can make it today once we cross through?”
He chuckled. “Depends on how long you hold up. We’ll have to hike from there.”
Her eyes went wide. “Wait... You can't drive through it?”
“Nope,” he answered with a shake of his head. “It’s not built to allow cars through. Horses at most. Though some fly helicopters over.”
She scrunched up her face and turned away to look back out the window for a while. He bit back another chuckle. She'd be ready to head back south in two days at most. Her stubbornness would keep her going for that long.
“Did you ever visit while it was active?” she asked a few minutes later.
“Aye. Had to take care of a problem lingering in the mountains.”
That peaked her interest. She twisted towards him in a swish of nylon. “What kind of problem?”
He grinned. Most would never believe his tale, but she probably would. “There was a… necromancer, warlock, witch… Whatever you want to call the fools who think they're wise enough to wield magic. He’d hid himself beyond the Wall. Decided raisin’ the dead was a good idea and needed somewhere quiet to do it.”
Her mouth fell open in shock, eyes wide as saucers. “What? You cannot be serious.”
He nodded, laughing a bit at her outrage. “It gets worse. He was doin’ it to create an army to take over the world. Wanted to kill off all the humans and raise them up to make his Army of the Dead. He even had a fancy name for himself. The Night King.”
She shook her head at him, her beautiful face slack with disbelief. “I’ve never heard such… Idiotic… Good gods,” she hissed, suddenly the embodiment of her gift. All raging fire. “I can't believe how foolish humans can be sometimes.”
Jon let himself laugh at that, she was not wrong. “Agreed. I'm almost ashamed I was one once.”
“I can understand that,” she muttered. “What happened with this foolish human?”
“I managed to get into his hideout and kill him.”
“Good. Hopefully he didn't give you too much trouble.”
“Nothing I couldn't handle. I wasn't half bad with a sword back in the day.”
He was watching the road, but he could feel her stare as good as a branding iron against his skin. He grabbed his water bottle and chugged some, thankful for the icy liquid. Anything to cool him down. ********* READ CHAPTER 1 HERE
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flowercrown-bard · 4 years ago
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I'm just thinking about the first time Jaskier learns that Geralt names every horse he gets Roach. Does this amuse Jaskier? Does he realise the abandonment issues involved? Is Geralt nervous or embarrassed to tell him? Does this count as a prompt? I'm not sure if it does but I hope your day gets better!
that absolutely counts as a prompt! thank you :)
A Horse by Any Other Name
The insistent strumming of the lute was starting to get on Geralt’s nerves. One would think by now he’d be able to tune it out, but no. It was like everything the bard did was demanding Geralt’s full attention. The bard would probably let it get to his head if he knew, insisting that Geralt liked having him near or some such nonsense.
“The mighty steed by the name of Roach
Loyal even when a monster approach…es.”
The notes faltered as the bard stumbled over the words of his new song for the umpteenth time. “Damn it.”
Geralt’s lips twitched upwards, when the bard picked up the tune again, trying in vain to find a decent rhyme.
Eventually he gave up. Finally, some silence. Though not for long.
“Really, Geralt. Roach? How am I supposed to fit that into any song? She deserves to be sung about, but nothing makes a decent rhyme for that name and if I change the syntax it doesn’t fit the metre anymore.” He scoffed and put the lute onto his back. “Sometimes I think you only named her that to spite me. Roach! You couldn’t have picked literally any other name, could you? Something that would sound good in a ballad about heroism and adventure maybe?”
Geralt grunted. “No.”
His jaw clenched. The bard had no right to demand such a thing. It was none of his business what Geralt called his horse. Roach wasn’t here to be a shining accessory to the bard’s songs. She was his companion.
Despite his time at the theatre, the bard didn’t know how to take a cue. Geralt’s frown and obvious dismissal must not have been obvious enough for him.
The bard skipped some steps ahead, until he was walking backwards, looking at him with an impish grin.
“Oh…that almost sounds like it has a story behind it.” He spread his arms widely. “The great tale of why Roach is the only acceptable name for this valiant mare.”
“There isn’t one.” None that the bard would get to hear any time soon, at least.
Geralt guided Roach around the bard and urged her on to walk faster.
“Come on!” He ignored the bard calling after him. “Tell me!”
“Fuck off, bard.”
Geralt didn’t look back, but after a few seconds he heard an indignant huff and the sound of hurried footsteps.
The bard didn’t broach the subject again. Almost a week had passed and Geralt was starting to relax, hoping against his better judgement that the bard had lost interest. Experience should have told him that this hope was stupid.
As per usual Geralt was riding on horse while the bard walked behind him like a stone stuck in one’s shoe, annoying and likely to still be there, even when one thought they had finally gotten rid of it for good. And as per usual the bard was talking.
“My feet are killing me, Geralt! Don’t ever let me put on these shoes when we are going for a long walk again. Gorgeous as they are, they are not made for adventuring.”
Geralt grunted and damn it, he was unable to keep the amusement out of his voice.
The bard must have picked up on it, because he doubled down, sighing overdramatically.
“You could save me from my misery, you know? You are supposed to be my hero. My knight in shining armour. So, if we keep travelling together for much longer, you could just let me ride –“
“No,” Geralt said, though at this point it was more to see the bard’s reaction than anything else. He was loath to admit it, but the bard had a point. If he were to stick around, it would be better if he didn’t have to walk everywhere. It was slowing them down and it would do no good for the bard to get blisters. If for some reason the bard would ever get in danger, being exhausted from a long walk would prove fatal.
Geralt ground his teeth together. He shouldn’t be thinking such things. There would be no travelling together. Soon enough the bard would get tired of trailing after Geralt and find someone else to latch onto, probably some pretty woman who openly showered him in adoration.
The bard’s huff brought him back to the here and now, in which the bard was still very much by his side.
“Fine then. Maybe in the next town I will just buy my own horse. And I will give it a truly beautiful name, one that can actually be used in my poetry. Like Pegasus. That is a name worthy of ballads.”
Geralt tensed. He didn’t mean to, but his heels must have dug into Roach’s sides, for she made a disgruntled sound.
The bard chuckled. “Don’t worry, Roach, my dear.” The bard came closer and gently stroked her nostrils. Geralt couldn’t help the relief he felt when Roach didn’t snap at the bard, biting the fingers that he so dearly needed for his playing. “You are still my one and only Roach.”
“She isn’t.”
The words were out before Geralt could stop himself.
The way the bard rolled his eyes was far too exaggerated for him to be truly annoyed. “Oh hush, you can stop it with your boorishness. I know you get touchy about her, but you can’t deny that Roach and I have become friends.” He paused. “Just like you can’t deny that we have become friends.”
Geralt could and very much would deny that as often as he must until the bard finally saw reason. Geralt’s jaw worked while the bard looked up at him challengingly.
Ah fuck it.
“That’s not what I meant. She isn’t the only Roach.” He paused, trying to find the right words. “Not the first one anyway.”
“The first one?” Despite Geralt avoiding the bard’s eyes, he could see his expression turn confused. “You mean there were others before her? And there will be Roaches after her?”
Geralt nodded curtly. And that was that. At least as far as Geralt was concerned. The bard obviously had a different view on things.
“So that’s why you didn’t want to talk about her name!” There was a smile in his voice that had no business being there. “It’s alright, you know. I won’t judge you for not being creative with names. Happens to the best of us. To be frank, I think it’s quite endearing.”
Geralt snapped around sharply. “Stop talking about things you know nothing about.”
He was about to spurn Roach on, just to get away from the conversation and the uncomfortably tight feeling in his chest, when he noticed that the bard had fallen eerily quiet.
Geralt risked a glance over his shoulder to find the bard staring at the ground, where he was kicking a stone in front of him, apparently lost in thought. Geralt didn’t know what to make of it. He knew he was gruff and just overall not good company, but he hadn’t thought that he would actually manage to get the bard to shut up. Somehow it didn’t sit right with him. As much as the constant chatter could be annoying, it was part of the bard and losing it felt a step closer to the inevitable. Still, he didn’t know what to do about it. He had never been good at keeping things close.
He almost slumped in relief, when the bard spoke up again, quieter this time and with none of the dramatics and exaggerated emotion of a performance. “What was the first Roach like?”
Geralt’s breath hitched. It had been so long since he had taken the time to think back to the first one, even though the memory never left him.
When Geralt didn’t immediately answer, the bard swallowed and averted his eyes. “Sorry. Ignore my question. I don’t actually want you to talk about things you don’t want to talk about.”
“He wasn’t mine,” Geralt said, unsure how much the bard was willing to hear, but feeling the strange need to tell him anyway. “When I became a witcher, I didn’t have a horse. I was quite disappointed about that actually.” His lips twitched. “It would have fit into the ridiculous idea I had about being some heroic defender of mankind.”
The bard started fidgeting and pressed his lips together, like he was burning to say something, but holding back to let Geralt talk. Geralt wouldn’t admit it, but he was grateful for it.
“The first monster I killed…. let’s just say the one I saved didn’t exactly see me as a defender.” His brows drew together at the memory. “After she regained consciousness, she ran away as fast as she could. Didn’t care that she had left her horse behind. I didn’t want him either. I was no hero and I was too bitter to think of how useful a horse would be.
“But he kept following me around.” A smile stole itself onto Geralt’s face. “Just wouldn’t leave me behind, that stubborn horse. For a week or so I didn’t give him a name. I wasn’t planning on keeping him. It was only when I had to choose between spending my coin on food for him or for myself that I decided to name him. I caught my own food that day – a roach – and figured it was a good enough name. It wasn’t the best, but I wasn’t going to keep the horse for long anyway. He didn’t leave though. Stayed with me until he wasn’t able to run fast enough when a griffin got away from me.”
There was that silence again. It was what Geralt had wanted, wasn’t it? For the bard to be quiet. But this silence was heavy, filled with something Geralt didn’t dare name, lest he would have to admit to himself that the bard wasn’t just some idiot who only followed him because he hadn’t yet realised the foolishness of it.  
He scoffed, filled with the unexpected need to hear the bard react in some way.
“You satisfied?” Geralt’s voice sounded bitter even in his own ears. “Is that something you can make a song out of?”
“No. I don’t think I will,” the bard said quietly, thoughtfully. So unlike the way Geralt was used to hearing him speak. He wasn’t sure if he minded it. “Thank you for telling me.”
Geralt grunted, his throat suddenly dry. For a terrifying moment, he had come so close to making a fool of himself by thanking the bard for listening.
When he looked at the bard out of the corner of his eye, he had a tiny smile dancing on his lips.
“It’s good to finally know that she is named after the fish.” Something loosened inside Geralt at the bard’s light-hearted words. “For the longest time I thought our dearest Roach was named after a cockroach and that would have just been a strange name.”
Geralt huffed, but didn’t hide the tiny smile that tugged at his lips. “Says someone named after a flower.”
The hearty laugh was enough to vanquish the last of the heaviness around Geralt’s chest that made it hard to breathe.
“So you do know my name after all.” The bard cocked his head to the side, smile still in place. “I had begun to wonder if you just didn’t know and reached a point where it would have been embarrassing to ask.”
“Hard to miss the name people shout when they chase you out of their rooms.”
The bard grinned. “Not to mention the multitude of adoring fans shouting my name. As they will yours once I make you famous.”
Geralt snorted.
“Actually, could you halt Roach for a moment? There’s been a pebble stuck inside my shoe for forever now and I really need to get rid of it.”
Geralt lifted a brow, but did as the bard had said. His breathe got stuck in his throat when the bard placed a hand on his leg for balance, as he took one boot off.
The smile on the bard’s face when he had finally managed to shake the pebble out of it was incredibly smug.
“Alright then, onwards!”
Geralt hesitated. “Come here.”  
“What?”
“I said come here. Onto Roach. I want to reach town before nightfall and I can’t do that when stones keep getting stuck in your shoes.”
For a heartbeat, the bard looked at Geralt with an unreadable expression, before a grin spread across his face.
It was only when he was sat behind Geralt with his arms slung around him, that the bard spoke again. “Just in case you were worried. I am not going to leave you, Geralt.”
Geralt sighed, but somehow the annoyance he had come to expect at such a declaration didn’t come.
“I am afraid you’re right, Jaskier.”
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alj4890 · 4 years ago
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Misfortune's Intentions
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(Liam x OC*Elisse Millan) (Drake x Riley)
A/N A couple more months have gone by. Liam and Elisse have attended many of the same events in Cordonia, gradually getting closer to one another. In this chapter, they begin the necessary steps toward a more personal relationship. Liam also has an honest conversation to the two that he once trusted the most.
@gkittylove99​ @krsnlove​ @kingliam2019​ @texaskitten30​ @hopefulmoonobject​ @yourmajesty09​ @mom2000aggie​ @ofpixelsandscribbles​
Masterlist
Chapter 3 Heart’s Honesty
The Royal Palace, Cordonia...
Liam looked up when he heard the murmur of feminine voices passing by on their way to the solarium.
Creeping towards the cracked door, he peeped out to see who it was.
He caught just a glimpse of Olivia, Riley, and Madeleine turning toward the right.
Curious yet not wishing to get caught up in conversation with any of them, he settled back in his chair and continued to review a trade proposal Elisse had given him from Amalas.
Monterisso's queen was not going to wait around on Riley's baby in making inroads toward a strong, beneficial relationship between their two countries. Since the pregnancy had been announced a couple of months back, Liam and his close knit group of friends had spent numerous events speaking to pushy foreign monarchs.
The only bright side to meeting so often, were the moments he had with Elisse. They were few and far between and much too short to satisfy him. A dance shared, a few words spoken here and there, possibly a shared smile over a private joke. All ended up making her the first person he searched for when entering into a room.
"Would you like me to bring a tray in here, your majesty or would you prefer having lunch in the dining room?"
Liam looked up at one of the footmen. "A tray, please." He called the man back. "Is there some gathering this afternoon?"
"The Queen Mother is hosting some ladies for tea in the solarium." The footman replied.
"Ah." Liam tried to focus. "Do you know who she invited?"
"I know some, sir."
Liam cocked an eyebrow, trying not to be impatient.
"Duchess Riley is the honored guest." The footman began to go through the usual name of Cordonian ladies. "Queen Isabella and Queen Amalas have also arrived."
Liam grit his teeth at not hearing what he wanted to most. "Did Queen Amalas bring another lady with her, by chance?"
"I'm not sure, sir. Should I go inquire?"
"No." Liam muttered. "Just bring my lunch in here, please."
"At once, sir." He bowed and left the king alone.
"There you are."
Liam nearly cursed. "Drake. Join me, won't you?"
"Thanks." He sat down on the couch across from him. "Haven't seen much of you recently."
Liam held up the documents he was reading. "Kingdom business."
"Ah." Drake drummed his fingers on his pants.
Liam tried to tune him out.
"Riley's having a tea party with Regina and a few others."
"So I've heard."
"Did you know the Spy Queen has returned?"
"Yes." Liam responded. "So did Auvernal's queen."
Drake ran a hand through his hair. "So, uh, have you gotten anything out of the spy that has taken up residence nearby?"
Liam lowered the documents. "Spy? What are you talking about?"
"Your investigation with Queen Amalas’s cousin." Drake narrowed his eyes. "That is why you are spending so much time with her isn't it?"
"Lady Elisse is more of a messenger between me and Amalas." Liam bit out.
"I've never seen you make sure to share most of your dances with messengers before, much less spend anymore time than you have to."
"I am doing exactly what I promised." Liam informed him. "I am taking time to get to know her. All these new events have limited my chances to be alone with her."
"Alone with her?" Drake leaned forward. "Why are you wanting to be alone with her?"
At this moment, Liam did not want to admit to Drake that he believed he was ready to try and fall in love again. He had yet to actually have a real date with Elisse, much less kiss her. He also wasn't certain her own feelings about taking that next step.
She seems to like me, he thought. Is it more than a friend? Or am I simply fooling myself like I did with Riley?
"Li?" Drake waved a hand. "Still with me?"
Liam closed his eyes. "Yes, sorry." He cleared his throat. "If I am alone with her, then she will be more inclined to talk about things she would never feel comfortable doing at a crowded gathering."
Drake slowly nodded. "That's true. Sounds like a good plan."
A plan to test her and see if she feels as I do, Liam thought.
"Are you going to try and get her alone after the queen's tea?"
Liam's eyes widened. "Elisse is here?"
"Well, yeah." Drake tilted his head slightly. "Liam, you sure there isn't anything wr--"
"Positive." Liam excused himself. "I need to put these papers in the study. Feel free to call down to the kitchen for an extra tray for lunch."
***************
The Solarium, Royal Palace, Cordonia...
What would I do without all these pastries?
Elisse gratefully took another bite of a strawberry tart. If her mouth was full then she wouldn't be pressured to talk.
Which was a good thing considering how she felt about Lady Riley Walker.
It nearly turned her stomach at how everyone was complimenting the waitress turned duchess. There was only so much bowing and scraping for attention Elisse could stand.
Especially to someone who had hurt Liam so horribly.
It didn't take a mind reader to realize that the reason Cordonia's king was not actively courting or planning on having little princes and princesses of his own was sitting across from her, gushing about what kind of father Drake would be.
"He has already promised to take all the late night diaper changes." Riley giggled.
Elisse didn't bother to hide her eye roll, earning a slight kick from her cousin.
Amalas sent her the look that somehow conveyed the reminder that they were trying to gain favor with the woman carrying the royal heir so stop making faces at every little thing she says.
Feeling somewhat chastised for possibly letting her cousin down, Elisse averted her gaze and poured herself another cup of tea.
How much longer are we going to have to sit here?
"Bradshaw would have fainted dead away if I remotely asked him to change one of the twins diapers." Isabella's brittle smile formed with the mention of her husband and children.
Elisse's eyes narrowed somewhat as she studied Auvernal's queen. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was something not quite right. She cut her eyes to Amalas, wondering if she too was seeing this.
Her cousin tucked a lock of her own hair behind her right ear and gently tugged on the earlobe.
Elisse returned her attention to the conversations, satisfied with that secret signal that Amalas not only saw it but was planning on investigating it further.
"What about you?" Riley asked.
Elisse glanced up and realized that all eyes were on her.
"I'm sorry." She stammered. "Did you ask me something?"
"Can you picture your husband changing diapers?" Riley prodded.
"I'm not married." Elisse forced a pleasant smile. "It's difficult enough imagining him doing so when I don't even know what he looks like."
"Oh!" Riley glared over at Madeleine. "I'm sorry. I was told you were married."
Madeleine chuckled softly. "Perhaps if you read the reports I give you, you wouldn't make a mistake like that."
Riley ignored her and focused once more on Elisse. She was determined to find out more about this woman who seemed to always find a way to be near Liam.
"Enough baby talk." She decided. "Let's talk romance."
"Zeke is taking me to Switzerland next week." Penelope shyly said. "A trip for just the two of us."
Kiara laughed. "He is so excited about it. It is all he talks of whenever one of us asks him something." She smiled at Penelope's blush. "Très romantique, non?"
"Very." Hana sighed. "You two are so sweet together."
"Anyone else have that special someone?" Riley asked. "Or needs a little help from Cupid to get them to act right?"
Olivia shook her head. "By Cupid, you mean you."
"I do." The duchess replied. "I know all about stubborn men trying their hardest to keep from being with the perfect person for them."
Elisse sat up a little straighter. "Is that how you and his grace got together?" She did her best to make her question sound like polite curiosity. "Did you have to convince him to be with you?"
Amalas stilled. She had been the one to tell Elisse all of what happened during Liam and Madeleine's engagement tour.
Riley had a dreamy expression on her face. "Drake Walker put up quite the fight. It took all my I had to get him to be with me."
"When did you realize he was worth it?" Elisse asked while turning in her chair so that Amalas couldn't kick her again. "Most would have focused on someone who seemed interested."
Olivia snorted in agreement. "I will never understand how you could choose Walker over Liam."
Riley's smile turned tender. "What can I say? He was a complete marshmallow whenever we were alone. I saw past his snark and knew he had to be mine."
"I think it's terribly romantic." Hana added. "He has shown over and over that you are the most important person in his life."
While Hana and Riley went through the list of things that made Drake perfect, Elisse tbought of Liam's actions in each scenario.
"He took a bullet for her." Hana explained to the visitors.
"I will begrudgingly give him credit for that." Olivia grumbled. "That and for helping take Anton down."
Elisse mentally countered that with Liam coming and facing Anton and his minions alone to rescue the couple.
"He sounds like he will be a protective father." Amalas interjected before they continued to extol his virtues. "One that knows the value of family."
Issabella narrowed her eyes at her. "I agree. Which is why I would love to have him as father-in-law to one of my," she took a gulp of tea, "darling twins."
While the two queens tried to sway Riley toward choosing their children, Liam stepped into the sunroom.
Regina looked up and smiled. "Liam dear, would you care to join us for a cup of tea?"
He shook his head. "Thank you, but I came in here for something else." His charming smile flashed to the ladies. "I do hate to interrupt, but I need to speak to Lady Elisse a moment."
She set her teacup down. "Yes, of course, your majesty."
When Liam noticed the curious looks, he explained that he needed her to clarify one of the requests in the document she had given him.
"Perhaps you need Queen Amalas too." Isabella smirked. "Since she is Monterisso's ruler. Plus, I'm certian Duchess Riley would enjoy hearing something other than Prince Josip's darling ways."
Amalas kept her cool and did not rise to the bait. "I would be more than happy to." She winked at her cousin. "But Elisse was such a help to me as I drafted it that she knows it as well as I do."
"We will only be a moment." Liam promised, setting Elisse's hand in the bend of his arm.
Riley, Olivia, and Hana all shared a knowing look.
Regina noticed their exchange and cleared her throat.
"Would anyone care for more tea?"
**************
Once they were out of earshot of the solarium, Elisse spoke up.
"What problem did you come across in the trade agreement?"
Liam's cheeks flushed. "Actually, I haven't seen any problem."
"Oh." She attempted to not let her imagination get away from her. "Then why did you take me away from the tea?"
Liam rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not--that is--I" he chuckled softly while turning to face her. "I guess I simply wanted to see you."
Elisse doubted that anyone could be more adorable than Liam was in this moment.
She smiled and lowered her eyes. "Would it be too forward to say that I had hoped to causally bump into you while here for the tea party?"
"Definitely. Much too forward." He responded in a serious tone.
Her head jerked up and she saw the humor in his eyes.
She playfully pushed him away. "That certainly cured me of ever doing so again."
He laughed out loud, took her hand, and pulled her along with him.
"Where are we going?" She asked.
"To my study to look over the documents."
"But I thought you said there wasn't a problem."
Liam opened the door for her. "There isn't. But one must have their alibis in order, m'lady."
"What am I to do with you?" She teased once he shut the door.
Liam allowed his heated gaze to settle on her. Her question sparked his imagination. There were several things he would love for her to do with him.
"Is this where you spend most of your day?" She asked, exploring his bookshelves.
"For the most part."
Her eyes cut over to him. His casual stance as he leaned against the door was one she was noticing happened whenever they were near one another. His image he maintained to the rest of the world was one of proper, ram rod posture. There was rarely any softening or relaxed muscles.
Except with me, she thought.
Still highly curious and a touch nervous, Elisse sat down on a small couch.
"The Queen Mother told us about the ball you're hosting. How are the preparations going?"
Liam shrugged on his way to sit near her. "They must be going well. No one has come to me with any problems yet."
She turned towards him. "Is it for a special reason?"
You mean other than wanting a night where I can easily steal you away?
Liam kept that response to himself. "I suppose it is. Now that Lady Riley has gotten over most of the morning sickness, we can host a ball in honor of the royal heir."
Elisse was unable to control her facial expression. "I see."
Liam's eyebrows drew together. He had noticed that same irritated expression appear whenever the viscountess heard that particular name. "Elisse, do you not care for Riley?"
Her lips parted, ready to admit how she truly felt about the one that had hurt him, only to close shut. She knew she needed to be more diplomatic for Amalas’s sake.
She turned away from him and shook her head. "She seems pleasant."
Elisse was surprised she didn't choke on that word.
"Pleasant?" Liam's lips began to curve.
"Yes." She pointedly looked out the window, knowing he was amused at her answer.
If I look at him, it will all be over, she thought. She had to fight to keep her smile from appearing as he slid closer to her.
"You find Lady Riley pleasant?" He propped his elbow on the back of the couch and rested his head on his hand. "I don't think I have ever heard such a mild compliment toward her before."
Elisse was unable to resist and turned back toward him. He quirked an eyebrow in silent question when she simply stared at his face.
All she could think about was how generous he had been. Allowing Riley to live here to be near Drake. Giving her a title and a castle. Hosting their wedding. Standing as best man. Fighting to save their lives with little regard to his own safety. And now to naming their child as his heir.
Kindness barely scratchs the surface, she thought.
"Elisse?"
"Hmm?"
"What are you thinking so hard about?"
Without pausing to consider if she would end up embarrassed by her answer, she said exactly what was on her mind.
"You."
Liam didn't think any other answer could possibly top that one.
He slid his hand over hers. "I think of you often."
"You do?"
"No." He grinned at her frown. "It is more than often. You are rarely if ever far from my mind."
Her warm smile returned. "I suppose I am the same way."
Liam drummed up the courage to ask her out. "Elisse, would you--"
"Liam, I wanted to--" Riley's eyes widened at the pair on the couch. "Sorry. Drake told me he had seen you come in here. I didn't know you were still reviewing..."she noticed there wasn't one scrap of paper between them, "trade documents."
"We cleared that matter up quickly." Liam kept a hold on Elisse's hand. "Is there anything you need, Riley?"
"Yes, um, the ball. What exactly did you have planned?"
"Is there anything other than dancing, drinks, and food that Cordonians do at balls?" Elisse teased.
Liam chuckled. "Other than taking a moment to obsess over our apples, not really."
Riley narrowed her eyes. Their little jokes and touches were more serious than she thought.
"I wanted to come in and offer my help, if needed." She muttered.
"Thank you, but everything is under control."
Riley hesitated a moment. "Liam, Drake and I were hoping to speak with you," she glanced at Elisse, "privately."
Liam sighed softly. "I'll join you and Drake in the west drawing room in a moment."
"Okay." She couldn't think of a reason to stick around and see what was going to happen between him and the viscountess.
Once she shut the door, Elisse focused on Liam. "I suppose I should find Amalas."
"Not yet, please." He lowered his eyss to her hand in his. "Lady Elisse," he cleared his throat, "I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me one night."
"Of course. I know we should to discuss the terms--"
"Not for work." He quickly interrupted. "I'm asking you for a date."
Elisse wondered if he could hear her heart pounding. "I would love to."
Liam released the breath he had been holding. "Then I will call you this evening and we will discuss the details."
She stood up, suddenly more nervous than she had been. "I look forward to it."
Liam lifted her hand to his lips. "So do I."
***********
"Drake, they were definitely not talking about trade deals." Riley paced back and forth. "He was holding her hand!"
"Take it easy." He placed his hands on her shoulders. "You know stress isn't good for you and the baby."
"What if Liam starts insisting that we sign an arranged marriage between our baby and Queen Amalas's son?" She cradled her small belly. "What will we do then?"
"We'll fix this." Drake reassured her. "Aren't you the one to point out how we always find a way to defeat those that come at us?"
She slowly nodded.
"Then don't worry." He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "We got this, Brooks."
The couple looked up when Liam came into the room.
“You wished to speak to me.” He sat down in one of the chairs.
“Liam,” Drake began, “what were you speaking to Elisse about?”
“We were discussing dinner plans this week.”
"Dinner plans? You have a date with Elisse?" Riley asked.
"Yes." Liam didn't bother to hide his smile. "We've had dinner and lunches together numerous times, but..." His voice held a hint of the true happiness he felt. "It has always been work related. I thought it was time for us to be together for no other reason than because we want to."
"But she's the Spy queen's cousin!" Riley exclaimed.
Liam quirked an eyebrow at her. "I know who her family members are."
Riley motioned to Drake to say something.
He cleared his throat. "Li, you know we only want to see you happy." He shifted under Liam's piercing gaze. "But we don't know if we can trust Amalas or anyone associated with her."
"I know I can." Liam's tone held a warning to not push him on this. "Elisse has never brought up the subject of your child marrying Amalas's son."
"She is probably waiting until you get more comfortable around her." Riley grumbled. "Seems like something a secret agent would do. Seduce the target into agreeing--"
Liam's hand slammed down on the end table next to him, causing the couple to jump in surprise.
"That's enough!" He snapped. His kingly authority reverberated within the formal drawing room. "I won't hear another word against Elisse." His blue eyes sparked with fury. "What proof do you have?"
"None." Riley stepped back from his glare. "Liam, you're so trusting that anyone can take advantage of your kindness."
"Yes," his soft tone scared them even more than his shouting. "I can see where you would both think that, given that I trusted you."
"Liam, what are you talking about?" Riley asked.
"I'm talking about the fact that nearly three years ago I trusted you with my heart." His eyes went from one to the other. "I laid it at your feet, Riley, and asked Drake to guard you while I tried to help uncover this conspiracy against you." He folded his arms. "If anyone shouldn't be trusted in this kingdom at the moment, it would be the two who betrayed me in the worst possible way."
Tear slipped down Riley's cheeks. "Liam, I...I thought you understood." She swallowed. "You stood there as Drake's best man at our wedding. You named our child your heir."
"Just because I understood, forgave you, and accepted it; that does not necessarily mean that I have forgotten." He replied. “I still trust you, but I have become more cautious in doing so.”
"Liam," Drake's voice cracked with regret. "I'm sorry. I had no idea you still felt--"
"I don't." Liam interrupted. "I haven't for a while now." His stance relaxed with his next words. “Since meeting Elisse, I have realized that I am able to move on from the past.”
He thought of the excitement he felt just in anticipating seeing her again. That desire to touch her. Finally feel what her lips against his. Seeing her smile. Holding her close.
He focused again on two people he still considered his best friends. "Regardless of what her cousin does, Elisse is innocent. She is the woman I intend on knowing on a personal level. You either support me in that and treat her with every bit of friendship and courtesy she deserves or you can return to Valtoria until you are able to do so."
With that, Liam left the couple with jaws dropped.
**************
Pier at Cordonia’s Capital a few nights later...
"Elisse?" Liam called out when he finally reached The Semblance sailboat.
She popped up from the galley. "Liam?"
His smile formed when she came over.
She climbed up the side, held onto the various ropes, and leaned forward. "Ready to come aboard?"
"You know, I'm not exactly fond of boats." He admitted. "One too many bad experiences."
Her smile turned tender. "I know. That's why we aren't going sailing." She tilted her head to where she had a table set. "I just wanted a spot where I could have you to myself."
Liam grabbed the same ropes and pulled himself until he was face to face with her. His lips curved at her slight intake of breath. "I could be on board with that."
She rolled her eyes playfully while groaning. Gripping his blazer she tugged him onto the boat. "Only you are cute enough to get away with that awful pun."
"I try." He teased.
She slipped her arm around him. "I hope you like what I prepared." Her eyes darted around as if she was worried someone would overhear. "Felix has been trying his hardest to teach me how to cook."
"Elisse, you shouldn't have gone to so much trouble." Liam tucked her long dark hair over her shoulder. "Just having a moment with you away from court and our duties is enough for me."
"Liam," she slid her arms up his chest, "I have a confession."
He placed his hands on her waist. "Oh?"
"Years ago, Amalas began a file on you." Her eyes darted to his lips before lifting once more to his crystal clear blue eyes. "And I read it."
Liam grimaced. "It sounds like you're about to say something I'm not going to like."
Her tender smile caused him to pause in pulling away.
"On the contrary," she stepped closer to him, "everything I read, I liked." Her dark brown eyes held his. "That's why I hope you like everything I've done."
Unable to resist the temptation any longer, Liam captured her lips in a heated kiss.
Her fingers tangled in his hair as he continued the sweet exchange.
Their eyes met as they began to part, only for them both to rush forward in a more passionate kiss.
"Liam." She said in a breathless voice when his lips brushed her cheek. "I've been waiting on you to do that for months now."
He chuckled, cuddling her close. "You have no idea how often I wanted to shove everything off my desk and yank you on it."
Her eyes twinkled. "I might have had similar thoughts."
He thought his face was in danger of being set in a permanent goofy grin.
A breeze brought their attention back to the carefully set table.
"I don't want to let your dinner go to waste." He murmured, kissing her neck.
"It probably tasted horrible anyway." She smiled at hearing his laughter. "I would like to get a second date out of this. My dinner might have sent you running as far away from me as you can."
"It wouldn't." He pressed his forehead against hers. "I have no intention of running away from you, Elisse."
Her smile took his breath away. With a slight joyful squeal, she kissed him once more.
"Would you like to lay here and watch the stars appear?" She motioned toward another section of the boat she had piled with an air mattress, blankets, and pillows. A bucket with chilled champagne was on hand with two glasses.
"Love to." He let her go, watching as she retrieved some strawberries and set them nearby their pallet.
He popped the champagne and filled their glasses.
"What should we toast to?" He asked.
"To the longest waited first date ever." She tapped her glass against his. "And how happy I am to finally be here with you."
Liam held her gaze as he downed his glass. He set it to the side and pulled her back in his arms. "Nowhere near as happy as I am."
****************
A few ships over, Olivia lowered her binoculars. 
“The date seems to be going well.” She whispered.
“Do you think she can be trusted?” Hana asked. 
“There’s only one way to know for sure.” Olivia passed the binoculars to her accomplice. “We need to dig up all we can on the viscountess and queen from Monterisso as well as everything I can on Auvernal’s monarchs.”
“If Liam falls in love with her,” Hana took a deep breath, “it will hurt him horribly if we discover she is using him.”
“He’s already been through so much.” Olivia murmured. “I don’t want to be the one to deliver news like that to him.”
“But we promised Riley we would investigate Elisse.” Hana shifted. “Do you think she is wrong about suspecting her?”
“I--” For the first time, Olivia doubted they needed to spy on Elisse. “I honestly don’t know.” 
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