#moss thesaurus

[m1croph0n]

i headcanon journal and thesaurus as siblings lol

deviantart repost 10/6/24

[synthshenanigans]

I swear CJ just reads a thesaurus in his spare time cos like what tf is he even saying sometimes. Like where did this word come from bro.

[askinkiskarma]

*gets out thesaurus* let's do this

*has to google thwarted meaning*

“Lo’ak, dad said to leave them be.” Tuk calls out to her brother, solidifying her position as your favourite Sully with their father placing a close second.  

interesting, cause Jake is also my second favourite Sully ;)

You had never understood what Jake meant when he claimed Lo’ak had a thick skull until now.

i love Lo'ak in every non-lo'ak centric story sm, and you write it so so well :(((

His hand returning to soothe the area once he’d admonished you for your attack on his brother. (...) You freeze to the spot, a warm chest pressed against your back, an arm wrapped around your waist. The same arm that had spent the night holding you close. A decision made with little thought to the consequences it would have, the desire for comfort overpowering your good sense when you’d allowed him to pull you onto the sleeping mat and intertwine your bodies.

screaming, crying, kicking my feet this gave me butterflies fr

He gestures frantically and the two of you, mouth opening and closing a few times before he can put together another sentence to express his confusion. “WHY ARE YOU TOUCHING HER?”

let me reiterate how much i LOVE Lo'ak just for a quick sec

You had found it far too easy to lean into his touch when it had become one that soothed instead of caused pain. A betrayal of your body to your mind as you felt yourself missing the feeling of his digits pressed against your skin

:((( i want it, i want it so bad

“Oh yes, and grandmother always advises cuddling to aid the healing process.” Kiri, the only one who seems to both understand and enjoy this conversation sits next to you in the space recently vacated by her brother.

this made me cackle so much, i love kiri she's the superior sully for sure

Eywa’eveng had staked claim on what once invaded her land. The aircraft had now become part of the forest, the vines entwined with its metal husk and moss growing on its propellers

this tickled my brain

“There’s nothing you can do for him, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He whispers in your ear and lowers you both to the ground, releasing his hold on your shoulders as he reaches for his knife and unbinds your wrists

i mean i know it's a tense situation but *heart pounds, chest heaves, thighs push together*

that was so so good, my love!! you did so well with the interactions between characters and with relaying the movie in a way that still felt fresh and new. your writing just makes me sad for my own, but i am so proud of you, this is such an amazing story :(((

ilysm xoxoxo

𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 // 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 ✧˚ · . 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒗𝒊

‣ Pairing: Adult!Neteyam (20) x Fem!Omatikaya Reader (19) ‣ Warnings: Mentions of weapons, death, biting, blood and a teensy mention of vomiting. ‣ Word Count: 3.4k ‣ A/N: The wait is finally over! I want to thank everyone for being so patient, I know this took a while to write but I had to make sure I was in the right space before starting. I'm not going to pretend to understand the timeline of this movie, especially as we don't have Ronal's belly to go by at this point so let's just pretend that the timeline makes sense. This part includes some canon scenes (and another shocking attempt at writing action) with a little bit of creative liberties taken, I didn't want to go into too much detail of something we've all probably read 100 times. I know I've gotten tired of reading the same dialogue over and over again. I also wrote half of this on some strong cold medicine so as always I'll be back in the morning to do an extra proofread. Enjoy and let me know what you think besties. English is in bold italics all other dialogue is in Na'vi. ‣ Na'vi word bank: tìyawn - love, skxawng - moron, sa'nu - mum, eywa'eveng - pandora, uniltìrantokx - dreamwalker, ftang - stop, kä - go

SERIES TAG | SERIES PLAYLIST | JOIN THE TAGLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

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"What are they doing?"

You squeeze your eyes closed, pressing your face further into the surface below you as the light penetrates your eyelids, threatening to wake you from your slumber too soon. It does little to block out the high voice that rings through your tent but the warmth beneath you easily swallows your body, the soft rise and fall inviting you to slip back to sleep.

"Maybe they were fighting and knocked each other out?” The second agitating, grating voice is determined to not allow your rest. You grumble into the warmth, in hope that the owner of the voice would get the hint and leave before you had no choice to resort to violence.

”Lo'ak, don't be ridiculous." The third voice causes the warmth to unwrap itself from you, it shifts underneath you and all you can do is tighten your hold around it, keeping the heat from further escaping you.

"Oh shut up Kiri, like you can come up with a better explanation for this."

Something vibrates beneath your face, your peace finally ripped away from you and any attempt to return to your slumber thwarted once two of the intruding voices begin their squabble and the warmth groans and stretches out beneath you. Eyelashes flutter against the blue chest as you give in and blink away the sleep in your eyes.

“Lo’ak, dad said to leave them be.” Tuk calls out to her brother, solidifying her position as your favourite Sully with their father placing a close second.  

“If he wanted us to leave them alone, he shouldn’t have told us where Neteyam was.”

Whatever fatigue that lingers in your body leaves, your eyes snapping open as your reality hits you. Of where you are, of who is underneath you and how you got there. You roll off Neteyam’s chest, as if putting distance between you now would undo the damage of being caught. An explanation is at the tip of your tongue when you sit up, until your skull collides with something hard and you fall backwards, the head splitting pain stinging at the corner of your eyes.

“Shit.” A solid form catches you, a hand reaching from behind you to press at your forehead as if the firm hold had any hope of dulling the pain. Your eyes open, tears being stemmed by your rapid blinking as you find Lo’ak in a similar state of agony, clutching at his head and letting out howls that would rival a wounded Nantang.

You had never understood what Jake meant when he claimed Lo’ak had a thick skull until now.

“Lo’ak you skxawng! What were you doing standing over me?” A well-aimed kicked to the shin earns another howl from the big baby and a sharp tap to your already tender forehead alerts you to the continued presence of your least favourite Sully. His hand returning to soothe the area once he’d admonished you for your attack on his brother.

He was making it worse, so much worse. You freeze to the spot, a warm chest pressed against your back, an arm wrapped around your waist. The same arm that had spent the night holding you close. A decision made with little thought to the consequences it would have, the desire for comfort overpowering your good sense when you’d allowed him to pull you onto the sleeping mat and intertwine your bodies.

The consequences you were now facing as the three other Sully’s stared at you and their brother. Tuk with bewilderment. Kiri who was making a poor attempt at hiding her laughter behind her palm. And Lo’ak. Oh, Lo’ak who had only stopped his performance of agony to look at you and his older brother with nothing other than a look of horror on his face.

“Me?! What was I doing? I was trying to make sure you were okay. What were you doing?” He gestures frantically and the two of you, mouth opening and closing a few times before he can put together another sentence to express his confusion. “WHY ARE YOU TOUCHING HER?”

Neteyam’s hands release their hold on you, lifting in a gesture of surrender as you finally gather some sense to move your body away from him. You had found it far too easy to lean into his touch when it had become one that soothed instead of caused pain. A betrayal of your body to your mind as you felt yourself missing the feeling of his digits pressed against your skin. You were going mad, it was certain. You needed one of those mind doctors that Norm spoke of and Lo’ak’s face only confirmed that.

“Don’t make a big deal out of this baby brother.” Neteyam stands, reaching out an arm to help his brother to his feet, the gesture accepted with a narrowing of eyes. “Yesterday was a tough and y/n was hurt trying to help me, I came to check on her. We just fell asleep while we were talking.”

“Oh yes, and grandmother always advises cuddling to aid the healing process.” Kiri, the only one who seems to both understand and enjoy this conversation sits next to you in the space recently vacated by her brother.

“Not helping.” You whine, bumping your shoulder against hers.

“Not trying to.” She meets your shoulder with a nudge of her own, and you fix her with a glare that has little annoyance behind it. Kiri at least would lose interest soon enough and her teasing would cease. Lo’ak on the other hand, you could already see the questions forming in his mind, ones you would be forced to answer if you wished for him to drop it. You couldn’t blame him, not really. Not when the last true interaction between you and his brother that he had witnessed was an attempt to cause harm. An attempt that had since been achieved in other ways that you certainly didn’t want your best friend finding out about.

“Are you all better now y/n?” Tuk asks and you open your arms to accept her into your lap, her little arms finding their way around your middle as snuggled into your body. “Mom says I give the best hugs!”

You can’t help but squeeze her until she squeaks in complaint, a muffled “Too tight!” Coming from where you have her smothered in your grasp.

“I’m so much better now Tuk-Tuk, your sa’nu is right. You give the best hugs ever.” You release her from your arms, fixing her braids that you had messed up.

“So much better than Neteyam’s, right?” You ignore Kiri’s snort, looking up to find the aforementioned staring right at you. His tail flicking with amusement, he raises his brows to encourage you to answer the question. Your ears fold back and you hope your face doesn’t give away the heat that rushes to it under his gaze.  

“Yes Tuk, so much better than Neteyam’s.” It’s a blessing from Eywa herself that you manage to hold his gaze before he breaks the impromptu staring competition himself, his low chuckle echoing through the tent as he turns and rests his hand on his brother’s head.

“I better go and check in with dad. Have fun cleaning out the ikran.” He gives Lo’ak’s head a gentle push as he turns to leave, earning him a scowl as he departs your Marui.

“Well good luck with that, auntie already told him where you were!” You might have fainted if it weren’t for your body resting against Kiri’s. Your mother having seen you was a given, though you hadn’t much thought to it until now, but she’d told Jake? Tuk’s earlier statement that he had told them to leave you alone suddenly made sense. You would never be able to look him in the eye again knowing the assumptions he must have about what you were doing. Assumptions that bordered on being correct. You had no time to spiral any further when the absence of his brother to blame had Lo’ak turning on you.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Tuk, keep up!”

“Bro, why’d you bring her anyway.”

“She’s such a crybaby! She’s all, I’m telling, you’re not supposed to go to the battlefield. I’ll tell mom if you don’t let me come.” You and Kiri come to the youngest’s defence at the same time. Kiri sticking to words but you reach forward to flick Lo’ak on the forehead, which he still claimed to be sore, earning a yelp from him and a giggle from Tuk from behind you.

As you got older, the ban on visiting the battlefield had been seen as more of a suggestion to you, Spider and Lo’ak. You we’re adults, one of the people in yours and Lo’ak’s case. Not that you’d ever brave sharing your adventures with Jake because while as a father he had to respect that you were grown, as your Olo’eyktan his word was still law.

Bringing Tuk was maybe a step too far, one that you might’ve argued against any other day, but you needed an escape. An escape from the confines of High Camp and any chance that Neteyam might return and attempt a further conversation. This new Neteyam that showed you smattering of the gentleness he treated his family with and served to only muddle your brain even more. You’d sooner go back to the years of snarky remarks or even the weeks in which he ignored you after taking what he wanted. That Neteyam made sense to you.

“Are there any dead bodies up there?”

Eywa’eveng had staked claim on what once invaded her land. The aircraft had now become part of the forest, the vines entwined with its metal husk and moss growing on its propellers. You follow Lo’ak’s lead in scaling the metal husk, confirming the lack of dead bodies before you allowed Tuk to follow.

You were cutting it fine to get back to High Camp before eclipse, as you always did. Kiri had wandered off leaving Spider to follow in search of her before you could return.  

“What is it?” Kiri questions as Lo’ak strays from the path, crouching to examine whatever he has noticed in the mud. Urging Tuk to stay where she is, you jump down beside him and Spider, brows furrowing when you find what he spotted. Boot prints, large boot prints. Lo’ak vocalises your realisation before you can.

“These are way too big to be human.”

“Avatars?” Spider questions, and you meet Lo’ak’s eyes. You don’t have to speak to know that he has already realised what you have. Whoever had been here, they were not yours.  

You pull your knife from its sheath, staying a few paces behind Spider and Lo’ak as the followed the tracks. You gesture for Kiri and Tuk to stay close, pressing a finger to your lips to indicate that they should be quiet. The tracks were fresh, whoever they belonged to were still close by.

You cursed yourself for declining to bring your bow as you found the source of the prints, four that you could see as they searched the old shack that you had been told under no uncertain terms you were not to visit. You held Tuk close to your side, declining to follow as Spider and Lo’ak moved to get a closer look. Risking too much movement was not a good idea, not when you had Tuk with you and only two of you held weapons that didn’t need to be used at close range. You were good with your knife, but it would be useless when faced with a gun. The boy’s return and Lo’ak makes the call to his father, dooming all of you to endless lectures and your worst punishments yet.

“Son, you listen to me very carefully. You pull back right now. Do not make a sound.” You hear Jake’s orders through Kiri’s earpiece, pressing Tuk tighter into your side. “Move, you copy?”

“Yes sir, moving out.”

“See, I told you.”

You push the siblings forward, taking the rear as you follow Jake’s orders. Your chest tightens around the fear that rampages your pounding heart, you could’ve prevented this. If you had not been so concerned with escaping the consequences of your choices you might have been able to convince Lo’ak that this was not a good idea, that you should not have brought Tuk with you. But you had been selfish, thought only of yourself and now you were all in danger. The little girl you held only hours after her birth was in danger.

“It’s almost eclipse, come on.”

The trees part and little Tuk is swept up faster than any of you can respond, Spider and Lo’ak each pointlessly nocking an arrow as more figures emerge through the trees with threats to shoot. You hiss, stance ready to pounce until you see Tuk desperately pulling at the hands that held her queue tight in her hands, crying out for Kiri.

You drop your knife, hands raised in surrender as you allow one of the uniltìrantokx to take a hold of your arms. Despite your obedience your knees are kicked from under you, and for the second time today your skull explodes in agony when the solider wraps your queue around his hands and pulls. You mouth fills with copper as you catch your tongue between your teeth, doing all you can not to hiss as you watch Kiri, Lo’ak and Spider be similarly manhandled.  

"What have we here." The man has a marking of a bird on his arm, one you think you have seen before on a screen in the lab before Norm would tell you to go play outside. Bird man steps into the circle, observing you each in turn, his eyes lingering on Spider longer than the rest of you.

"Colonel, check it out. Four fingers. We got a half breed." Kiri’s hand is raised for bird man, or ‘colonel’ to see. His jaw tightens as he looks at her before he turns on Lo’ak.

"Show me your fingers." You let out a shaky breath as Lo’ak flips him off, something you’d learned as children from Spider. It was disrespectful Jake had told you when he caught you it to Neteyam. But the colonel doesn’t seem offended, doesn’t lash out. Instead he laughs. "You're his, aren't you?" Lo’ak hisses. “You’re his, alright.” He pulls Lo’ak up by his queue and tears swell at the corner of your eyes at the sound of his pained grunts as he tried to look strong, at Tuk’s cries for her brother. "Where is he?"

"Sorry, I don't speak English… to assholes."

"Where is your father?"  His na’vi broken, but it’s clear enough who he is looking for. Lo’ak says nothing, a warrior in his own right, he would give away nothing to protect his father. None of you would, even when the colonel pulls out his knife.

"Really? You wanna play it this way?" Kiri’s cries not to hurt her brother grab his attention and Lo’ak is discarded as he rounds on the elder Sully.

"Kiri, no! Stop!" Lo’ak barely gets an inch closer to his sister before he is pulled back by his queue.

“Ftang!” You cry out, tears finally fulfilling their threat to spill as the colonel advances on your sister. The hand behind you tightens around your queue, sending white spots through your vision.

"Hey, don't touch her!" It’s Spider who stops the colonel in his tracks, as he tugs against his captor.

"What's your name kid?" The colonel asks.

"Spider… Socorro." Spider’s captor is shooed away and the colonel bends a knee in front of him, his face softens, absent of any of the vitriol in which he’d eyed any of you na’vi with.

"Miles?" You hadn’t heard anyone call Spider that in years, often you forgot that his preferred nickname wasn’t his given name. Your brows furrow, searching Spider’s face for any sign that he knew how this uniltìrantokx knew his name. You found nothing in his expression but disgust.

"Nobody calls me that."

"I'll be damned. I figured they sent you back to earth."

"You can't put babies in cryo dipshit." The colonel signals for Spider to be restrained again and presses a hand to the comm around his throat.

"Iron sky, blue on actual. We're standing by for extraction. Over. Be advised, we're bringing in high value prisoners."

"Heads up, three minutes."

Your tail sways nervously behind you as the colonel announces the latest time frame. With each announcement, as they had the five of you lined up held securely ready for extract, you became less sure the Jake would make it to you in time. Your wrists were tied, the soldier holding onto you had one hand on your queue, another on his gun and you knew that you had failed to protect your family. Would they take you to their city? Separate you and hide you behind their metal walls where Jake and Neytiri could not find you?

Your ears twitch. The familiar hoot echoing throughout the trees, a look shared with Tuk confirming that she had heard it to. Their mother was here. Your adjust your stance, getting ready for further signal from the Tsakarem. Kiri utters a soft prayer from where she is held behind you and you hear her groan in pain before all hell breaks loose. 

“Contact rear!”

You’re yanked back by your queue as the dreamwalker holding you turns to fire his weapon, the pain splitting through your skull as you try to keep your balance without your hands to help you. The soldier that had hold of Kiri and Spider is dead on the ground at your feet, an arrow protruding from his head.

“Lo’ak!” Neytiri calls to her son from her hiding spot and you lose him and Tuk in a puff of yellow smoke. You wasted no time in ensuring your own escape by sinking your teeth into the arm that held you, releasing your hold once your mouth filled with blood and his grip went slack.

“Kä!” You cry out to Spider and Kiri as you run towards them, pushing them away from the gunfire and into the forest. Your escape is hindered when Kiri is yanked back by her braid, only for a moment before, her mother’s arrow loosing from the trees impales the demon and you move ahead again.

Adrenaline pounds through your veins and you run through the forest, the copper taste on your tongue threatening to bring your stomach contents up. But you don’t have time for that, you have to run, you have to get away to make sure you don’t leave your mother alone. To make sure that Kiri and Spider get home safely and find Tuk and Lo’ak and know that they’re okay.

The heat hits your back before you realise there’s been an explosion, the shock is enough to knock you off your feet and you don’t even realise that you were not the only one affected until you hear Kiri calling out for Spider.

Neytiri finds you, pulling a resistant Kiri away from the edge Spider had fell from. You hear her call your name, urging you to follow as she drags her daughter away, but you don’t really hear her. Not as you scramble to the edge and see your friends weakened form being lifted from the ground by the colonel.

You’re pulled from the ground before you can even make your move to climb down, strong arms wrapping around your waist as they tug you away from the edge. You cry out, kicking and scratching, doing anything you can to release yourself from your captor until his voice rumbles in your eyes.

“Stop Tìyawn!”

“Let me go!” You demand of him, he can’t do this to you. He isn’t this cruel. He can’t make you watch as they take your Spider away. “Please.” You beg as the dam breaks, your tears flowing freely, salt mixing in with copper as they reach the corners of your mouth. His hold only gets tighter, arms wrapping around your shoulder to still your movements.

“There’s nothing you can do for him, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He whispers in your ear and lowers you both to the ground, releasing his hold on your shoulders as he reaches for his knife and unbinds your wrists. You know he speaks the truth as you watch the aircraft ascend, taking away any hope of getting to Spider.

taglist: @lili-of-the-dream @arminsgfloll @aliceantalus @afro-hispwriter @syulangg @strongestangel @jjkclub @grxcisxhy-wp @cl0esblogg @thehalalboy @avatarmasterlistblog @violet-19999 @itzgabz22 @zeysartzone @justasimps-blog, @samistars @randxmthxughts@zetianzz,@emery-333,@pixieverse,@theycallmesia,@iwantjaketosullyme,@amalaaaa11,@yetanotherattemptatanaccount,@mashiromochi,@aspen-sprout,@spicymayyo,@athenalikethegoddess,@daniinhell,@trippyoverrt,@bellaiscool

[beenovel]

My Nonfiction Books!

Key:

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🍄 - to be read

🌿 - personal favorite

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I did not include my kindle books, just physical ones

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Fashion - Smithsonian

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Pantone on Fashion - Leatrice Eiseman & E. P. Cutler

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Pirateology - Dugald Steer

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The Fashion Book - Marie Vendittelli

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Redouté’s Fabulous Flowers - Pierre-Josephe Redouté

The Book of Flowers - Pierre-Josephe Redouté 🌿

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Guac Is Extra But So Am I, The Reluctant Adult’s Handbook - Sarah Solomon

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Bad Girls Throughout History - Ann Shen

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The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Teens - Sean Covey

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101 Things I Learned In Fashion School - Alfredo Cabera with Matthew Fredrick

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Easy French - Myrna Bell 🍄

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Blackthorne’s Botanical Magic - Amy Blackthorn

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The Mood Guide to Fabric and Fashion

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Psych’s Guide to Crimefighting for the Totally Underqualified - Shawn Spencer, Burton Guster, & Chad Gervich

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Wanderlust - Andi Eaton

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50 States 5000 Ideas - National Geographic

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The Lazy Genius Way - Kendra Adachi

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Think Happy - Karen Salmansohn

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Every Moment Holy, Volume 1 - Douglas Kaine McKelvey 🌿

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Joy In Every Moment - Tzivia Gover

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The Little Book of Sloth Philosophy - Jennifer McCartney 🌿

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The Most Beautiful Villages of Greece - Mark Ottaway 🌿

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The Way Things Work - David Macaulay 🌿

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Celtic Prayers From Iona - J. Phillip Newell

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The Feelings Book - American Girl

Making Money - American Girl

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India Style - Alexandra Bonfante-Warren 🌿 (@claraofthepen I think you’d like this one)

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Mythology - Sweet Water Press 🌿

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The Everything Guide to Cognitive Behavioral Therapy - Ellen Bowers, PhD

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Booze and Vinyl - André and Tenaya Darlington 🌿

Movie Night Menus - André and Tenaya Darlington 🌿

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Stories in the Stars - Susanna Hislop

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Webster’s Thesaurus for Students

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Where’s My Stuff - Samantha Moss

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Tags: @messiambrandybuck @gremlinfaemess @dat-pan-dwarf @thewhiteladyofrohan @lady-latte @idle-thyme @lothloriien @kumqu4t

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[deathbydyingpod]

Hey OW, I was wondering, is there a place in Crestfall where you like to be, when you can't quite get the words for an obituary right? A place that brings them right out of you?

Hello @firstinthedeck. Congratulations on getting into the deck so early.

Why of course. A storyteller must always have a place of gentle inspiration. An Obituary Writer such as myself gets writer’s block just as much as the next writer. 

Which is why I visit the grave of the deceased I’m writing about. There’s something in the air, something in the crackled curve of stone and proliferating swirls of moss. Their story is somewhere between the start of their life and this final resting place.

Everywhere and nowhere. Ephemera and always.

If that doesn’t work I usually go to the thesaurus. There are some pretty neat words in there.

[churchyardsale]

“Does it make a sound?”

We sound above the voices, the trees

echo and rustle us like their leaves, green

as a forest fire. Our yells beat out birds, are heard

over the mosses’ slim language, a thesaurus

of soft things, of dirt. We are the dirt, the clay,

the loam sprouting forth our noises, inhuman,

perhaps, but heard all the same as branches

crashing down in an empty wood.

[cuntess-carmilla]

I've never listened to a single Florence and the Machine song and I don't want to after how obnoxious their fans can be and how used I am to nerds acting like this or that musician is an orgasmic experience for the soul but turns out they just have some lukewarm sad lyrics that use words like "angel" or "moss" or some Thesaurus shit with slow, soft, flat ass musicality and a slight echo to it that they swear counts as atmosphere. No thanks.

[ladybugsfanfics]

You’re angelic | Loki x reader

Pairing: Loki x reader

Style: One Shot

WC: 1653

Warnings:  mainly just insecurity over acne/acne scars. 

Summary: requested by @marvelouslymightymia: “I was wondering if you’d write a fic where Loki and the reader are super close and both like each other but are oblivious & the reader has acne/acne scars on her back and is super insecure. Loki (because he’s infatuated) realizes she always covers herself (even in summer) and he confronts her and she gets really anxious and finally she shows him her back and he compares her spots to stars & her back a galaxy & Milky Way. Eventually Loki confesses, reader confesses & first kiss fluff. (+I❤️U)”

A/N: this request broke my heart and also healed it again because I had such a ride writing it. This isn’t something I’ve struggled with as an insecurity myself but I do have acne on my back and such so I tried to put my feelings off it into this and I hope it’s what you wante <3 and since I couldn’t find a gif that really fit, please accept Tom’s Loki love ;P

If you wanna be added to my taglist, please let me know ^_^

Hot air runs over your legs, brushes across your hands and tickles your cheeks. Sweat trickles down your back, making your top cling to your back. But instead of pulling off your jacket, you drag it closer around you. The hot summer air has everyone else walking around in shorts and bikini tops. You, on the other hand, continue with jeans, and sweaters and hooded jackets. 

Sometimes, you wish you were like those other girls running around. Their confidence oozes from them, making boys (and girls) glance in their direction admiringly. More than once, you’ve caught your best friend doing the same. More than once, your gut has churned at the sight and one of the strings holding your heart in place has snapped. More than once, you feel the green color of envy color in the crevices of your face, showing more and more with each time.

Nevertheless, showing skin isn’t something you enjoy. It’s not perfect like everyone else’s. Scars litter your back, acne pops up everywhere and your skin is rough to the touch. The opposite of every girl you see as you walk outside. 

Another beautiful girl runs past. A huge smile on her face and beautiful curly black hair that flows around her. Her skin looks smooth as silk, a deep brown that you stare at with envy. Compared to your own marked skin, hers look like it’s been bathed in the fountain of youth. You can’t take your eyes off of her, and as you continue to look after the beautiful girl, your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach. 

As she fades from view, you glance beside you to your best friend. His deep green eyes look after the girl. Your heart sinks further (if that’s even possible) and you try to hold back a sigh. 

Loki hears it and turns to you. A worried crease appears between his brows. “Something wrong?” he asks. 

You shake your head, try for a smile but know it isn’t fooling him. “No, nothing.” With a deep heave, you start walking again. “Do you want to do something?” you ask. 

The male follows after you. He let the crease fall, having tired of trying to pull information out of you long ago. “Are we not doing something now?” he asks and quirks a brow. 

You smile at him and shake your head. “Well, we’re walking, but I wanna do something. I don’t know what.”

“It is rather hot, would you care for a bath?” He smiles at you. “In the ocean?”

Your breath hitches. He’s never asked that before, has always been a gentleman about certain things. Traditional roles of men and women. But, now he’s asking, and how do you tell him no without telling him why? Especially without telling him he can’t see your back because you love him and would be too scared to know what he thinks?

But you don’t have to tell. 

“Or don’t you want to?” He tries for a gentle smile. “I have noticed you don’t wear less clothing during the summer, despite the hot weather. Is something bothering you?”

He’s noticed.

Something inside you swells at the fact that he notices those things. Something else clutches to a tight rope about to rip apart, where you’ll fall down into a dark place you will never be able to get up from. The voices in your head wants you to tell him, not tell him, tell him, not. 

You shake your head. “No, nothing.” But you don’t sound convincing. 

He places a hand on your upper arm. The touch burns through the fabric of your jacket. Your eyes dart from it and into his eyes. His look searching, worried and confused. “Are you sure?” he asks.

Your heart jumps into your throat. It pounds, loud and threateningly. You’re almost certain he can feel it through the touch on your arm. “Ye- yeah,” you say, voice shaking. 

Loki rolls his eyes, but there’s something warm in how he does it. He isn’t making fun of you, or thinking you’re stupid. Rather, through it, he shows something that has your heart pound harder, faster. Your skin burns stronger, brighter. Your gut churns louder, more painful. 

“Follow me,” he says and moves his hand from your arm. He takes your hand in his and laces your fingers together. Electricity shoots up through your arm. Your breathing hitches, continuously shakes as he drags you along. 

Eventually, he stops by the entrance to a garden. He pulls you through what looks like an opening into a whole other world. Green vines curls around a gate, white lines shine through, but the green is the prominent color.  A few white flowers shoot out here and there, giving the green a contrast. 

He drags you further inside. Green of every shade surrounds you. Hints of blue, red, white and purple shoot out every now and then, but it’s the range of green that has your attention. The forest green of the trees that rise into the blue sky, the light yellowish tint from lime, the moss green that grows on stones in every direction. Every shade mixes in with a brownish hue, with the dark grey of tree trunks, and with the colors from the few flowers that pop up. 

Loki stops after you’ve gone almost entirely in. He stops you by a small pond. Translucent water splash against the little shore, show off the ground underneath and the living creatures within. 

You look at Loki as he gestures for you to sit down on the grass. “Trust me,” he says, and you do. You sit down on the grass. He sits down next to you, hand still laced with yours. 

Carefully, he unlatches your fingers. A question crosses his face as his hands land on your shoulder and he pushes back the jacket you’re wearing. Your heart pounds in your chest, your breathing getting more ragged as he pushes it further. You try to let him, for a few agonizing seconds he manages to push down the jacket, but your breathing becomes ragged. The thoughts inside your head swirl with newfound energy. 

You give him an apologetic smile as you take his hands away and drag the jacket back into place. “I’m sorry,” you say. 

Loki smiles. “Don’t be,” he says. “Never be sorry for your insecurities.”

A tear slides down your cheek. He wipes it away with a smooth finger. 

“But please, talk to me?” he says. 

You press your lips together and look down into your lap. His gaze feels heavy as it rests on you, but you try not to let it push you. “I’m…” Your voice wavers, breaks and falls away. “I.. I’m not…”

He doesn’t say anything, but he tilts your head up with a finger. The look in his eyes has more tears run down your cheeks. You smile at him. 

“I’ll show you.” The whisper comes out nearly breathless, but your voice doesn’t waver. You turn around, your back facing him and slowly take off your jacket. Of course, you wear a t-shirt underneath, but the scars starts at your shoulders. Acne comes everywhere, and yours starts at about the same place as the t-shirt. Just that has your heart beat faster, pound against your ribcage. But you continue. A voice inside your head telling you it’s okay, it’ll be okay. 

You wring off your t-shirt and throw it off to the side. Chill air breathes down your back and for an instant you regret the decision. 

But a pair of smooth long fingers starts to trail over your back. He drags you closer, almost into his lap and you release a breath you didn’t know you held. His fingers drags across your back. Marking lines between every scar, every little mark across your back. 

“You look beautiful,” he whispers. 

You turn your head, and meet his gaze for a second. He smiles and you sigh. “Really?”

He nods. “Your back is a galaxy, littered with beautiful starts in every form and size. Constellations mark your skin.” His fingers drag new lines, lines you recognize as constellations that fill Earth’s sky during the night. “You’ve been blessed, darling. Not everyone has stars covering their body, or manifest to such a beautiful personality.”

You turn around fully, not even thinking about the fact that you’re torso is almost naked. Wide-eyes stare at Loki. He cups your face, wiping away the tears that has fallen. “You’re beautiful. Inside and out. Radiant like the stars, marvelous like the galaxies, and absolutely gorgeous just for being you.”

You sniff. “Really?” 

“Darling,” he says and leans in closer, “you’re angelic.” His lips brush yours, a small touch. You smile at him, look deep into his eyes. 

“How many words like that do you have?” you ask, a thankful and teasing smile on your lips. Tears still prickle your eyes, but they’ve turned happy. 

Loki smiles back. “Oh, I got a whole thesaurus.” He takes a deep breath. “Deep thoughts that are alluring to every man or woman within a mile radius. An appealing taste for fine things. Charming smile that pairs perfectly with a cute nose and dazzling eyes. A delicate touch and a delightful heart full of love. Elegant when needed and with exquisite taste. A fascinating affinity for care, and a graceful way of moving clumsily. As lovely as a person could possibly be. Magnificent in your own nature, and absolutely stunning.”

You shake your head with a smile. “Silver-tongue is for sure.”

He kisses your cheek. “Let’s save the rest for another time.” 

“Okay,” you say, “but there’s one thing I need to say first.” Loki raises a brow, but doesn’t say anything. “You are divine and I am crazy about you.”

A laugh escapes his lips. He only leans in closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “And I you, darling.”

permanent tags: @devilbat @adefectivedetective

[soren-bleu-kun]

Talking about moss gets rid of boring people right at the start and then you can talk nicely with someone about random shit and be good :p Also its more question times, whooo - If you had to have a quirk, what quirk do you think you would have based on your peronality and things you like (instead of just picking a power that sounds nice try to think deeper abt which one is compatible) ^-^

If I had a Quirk... probably something like Thesaurus. Any word I use, I automatically have several backup words that could work. Something that would come in handy. 

On a random note, I do have an OC with @zashis-voice-box for a Quirk that is pretty great, but I don’t think we’d ever share him. 

[blumains]

Pine siskin

Interact with nature, relax and build memories that last a lifetime by conveniently ordering from. Perky-Pet® and K-Feeders wild bird products are trusted brands to bird lovers everywhere. is the top destination to find quality Wild Bird Feeders and Accessories. Pine Siskins may have two broods during a breeding season. Once hatched, the Pine Siskin babies will become fledglings in 14-15 days. The siskin that Todorovi found was one of 896 banded at Foreman’s Branch in fall of. They showed up in flocks of dozens to hundreds, appearing as far south as the Gulf of Mexico and as far east as Bermuda. This devotion will continue for the first few days after the eggs hatch. The fall and winter of 2020 into 2021 brought an exceptional irruption of winter finches across North America, especially Pine Siskins. A North American finch (Spinus pinus) having streaked, brownish plumage. Also, listen for a distinctive, harsh 'watch-winding' call (also likened to the sound of slowly tearing a sheet of paper in two) amidst their constant flock twitters. The female Pine Siskin sits on the hidden nest, having lain between 2-6 greenish blue eggs that are flecked with small brown spots.ĭuring the 13 day incubation time, the male Pine Siskin will feed the female who only leaves the nest for a few moments at a time. Also found in: Thesaurus, Acronyms, Wikipedia. Spot Pine Siskins clinging to the ends of conifer branches, even upside down, to feed at conesor look for an exceptionally streaky, small-billed finch at your feeder. The Pine Siskins winter visits to the United States occur mainly in years when the seed crop has failed in the boreal forests. These birds often show up at birdfeeders in the winter months in the northern regions of the. It is delicately lined with feathers, moss, fur and other soft materials. The Pine Siskins live in the conifer forests of North America. When agitated, these birds react aggressively with a head forward threat display, possibly raising feathers on the head or opening the bill. Pine siskins can be confused with American goldfinch. It has yellow highlights at the tips of the tail feathers and along the wings. The belly is whitish with heavy dark streaks. It has a pale body with a heavily-streaked head, back, wings and tail. The plate or saucer-shaped nest of the Pine Siskin is constructed of twigs, leaves, grass, lichen and other similar items. Pine siskins are agile, quick fliers that travel in both large and small flocks and can frequently be found in mixed flocks with American goldfinches and lesser goldfinches. This bird is smaller than the house sparrow, with a sharply pointed, slender bill.

[the-light-finds-its-way]

1. Lazarus wants a full name. He doesn’t have a last name, and struggles to create one. He believes the Traveler will gift it to him in due time, but he waits for that day. Eagerly. Lonely.

2. Strangers notice that Lazarus is Jovian first and foremost. The tentacles coming from his face are unmissable, and passerbys can’t help but recognize this creature of seclusion and Darkness.

3. Lazarus is very sociable when around other Warlocks, especially Asher Mir and Ikora. He seems like a perfectly normal guy when you talk to him, but once Laz is alone, he’s silent, lonely, clearly struggling, and even his Ghost worries about him.

4. Lazarus would be flustered, blushing, stammering, and never able to complete a sentence.

5. There’s no way to tell when Laz is lying. He’s an excellent liar, to the point Spider fears him, and doesn’t exactly know what to believe comes out of this man’s mouth. He thinks he’s the best liar, until Laz comes sauntering into the lair. But Lazarus only uses his lying powers for the good of things, never the bad.

6. Lazarus smells of moss and cavern-esque musk. He’s like an ancient cave, walking, looming, always there tempting you to explore it, but you’re too scared to at the same time.

7. Lazarus’s hair is very long, reaching almost his feet. It’s wavy, black as night, and thin and silken.

8. He doesn’t have jewelry, unless you consider the Warlock Bond to be jewelry. His is made of pure Light, he was revived with it, and never let it go. It helps makes the Light less painful to wield.

9. There’s no phrase or word Lazarus overuses. He’s a walking thesaurus, with an immense vocabulary, and he’ll show that off to whoever, whenever.

10. A weird quality Lazarus has is his tendrils are always warm. They’re embracing, like they’re longing for a hug, and a comforting one at that, but they never reach anything or anyone. All are too afraid of him.

11. Lazarus looks very nice in greys. Light, dark, medium, you name it, he looks dashing in it!!

12. Lazarus shows his affection by hugging a lot. Physical contact is his love language, and he’ll always make sure you know that if you’re comfortable with it. If you’re not, then he instead, will verbally express he loves you and cares about you, but without using the term “love”. He’s afraid to love someone, platonically or romantically, as he’s afraid to lose them.

13. Lazarus makes very infrequent eye contact when talking with people. The most he can bear is quick glances to the eyes for a fraction of a second, before it becomes too much to look at.

14. Lazarus is unsure what traits he’s inherited from his parents. He’d like to know, he’d like to meet his family, but he can’t. He knows it’s forbidden as a Guardian.

15. His greatest flaw is his fear of loss, and his greatest asset is his selflessness. In a sense, they’re very related because Laz likes to give and give, but he can’t bear to lose those he gives to.

16. Laz is unsure of his childhood, as no Guardian has memories of their past, but his assumption that he came from wealth gives him a great insight into the poor, and makes it so he wants to spend time with them and help their efforts much.

✧ OC Asks! ✧

I compiled a short list of some questions that I hadn’t seen yet to help you (and me) have some fun while developing OCs. Feel free to answer these yourself, or ask someone else!

1. How does your OC feel about their full name?

2. What do strangers notice about them first?

3. How does their social personality differ from how they act when they’re alone?

4. How do they act around a crush?

5. Do they have a “tell” for when they’re lying?

6. What do they smell like?

7. What is their hair texture like?

8. How much jewelry do they wear, and do they have a favorite or distinguishing piece?

9. Do they have a word or phrase that they tend to overuse?

10. What is a weird quality that they have (ie their hands are always cold, they’re always hungry, they snort when they laugh, etc)?

11. What color do they look strikingly good in?

12. How do they show affection to someone they love?

13. Do they make strong/frequent eye contact when they talk to someone?

14. What attributes do they have that are inherited from their parents or shared with their siblings/other relatives?

15. Are their greatest flaw and their greatest strength related and in what way? (ie very caring and helpful but a doormat, or very observant and shrewd but often paranoid)

16. How has their childhood affected the way they view an aspect of their life (people, education, society, themselves, etc)?

And that’s all! Remember to reblog with your answers, I’m genuinely curious to hear about other people’s characters/writing processes!

[syn4k]

For the “anonymous ask meme” thing. You are something wonderful, something profound that is hard to put into words, only weave together impressions and fragments to try and frame the feeling with words because there isn’t a word I know that captures someone like you. I’d need to read a goddamn thesaurus to even begin to find something, and that is meant in the best way possible. So forgive these vaguely coherent rambles and impressions

Apricity. Shades of yellow, dandelions in the lawn, stubborn but bright. When I think of you I see sea foam and embers and the warmth of a hearth and laughter warm and bright feelings nestled in your chest. Ebullient. You are both safety and adrenaline, the kind you find in trusted friends who shriek with laughter as you go racing together down the street with laughter trailing behind. You are summer, tree houses and green forests and running laughing down trails lined with moss and ferns. Vivacious. You are the sun, something bright and gold and warm. You are a universe, a nebula a stellar nursery you are poetry given form with stardust in your veins and something profound. You are a very human sort of divinity. You are thoughts and feelings and a story called man and that is something wonderful.

You’re my friend. And I care you very much. I love the words you say, be they silly or something that shakes you to the core. I think you’re very strong, and I honestly think you’re amazing. I don’t think there’s anyone else like you, exactly as you are, and I want to appreciate you so much. Sorry for the kinda pretentious rambling that is trying to get words to work right, I think you’re fantastic, and genuinely, I hope you have a nice day.

e

[darkhymns-fic]

Poetry Isn’t Your Strong Suit

Lloyd's feelings for Colette could no longer be denied, but how else could he express them to her than just through second-rate necklaces?  

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel, Genis Sage, Raine Sage Rating: G Mirror Links: AO3, FF.net Notes: Someone showed me a prompt and I ran with it.

Lloyd knew that he liked Colette ever since he was little, but it was only at thirteen years old that he was finally able to put his feelings for her into words.

Kind of.

Colette had sat at lunch alone when he first saw her, hair so bright that it reminded him of the polished metals his dad would use to craft. After that, his young mind then began to process other things; the way her voice lifted whenever she saw Noishe at the village entrance, how her white dress stood out in the classroom against the brown oak of the walls, and the day she held his hand when she brought him to her grandmother, hoping to share with him the baked cookies her family had made.

There were other girls in the class that he thought were also pretty, especially Professor Raine and her silver hair. But before he could join her fan club with the other boys, she had yelled at him loudly in front of everyone for sleeping during a lesson, and then gave him extra math assignments as punishment. The way she had shouted had been so frightening, which took away any pretty shine Lloyd once had for her.

Colette never shouted – sometimes she barely said a thing at all, and it took a few days for Lloyd to have her speak to him beyond simple polite greetings. After that, she would make faces at the math questions he showed her, and always marveled at the tiny little carvings he drew on the school desk (until Professor Raine found out and had him sit on the floor for the rest of that week). And when she smiled – when she really smiled, and not the kind she showed to adults from the Church or nodded with while in class – it made him happy. How her teeth would show, how it stretched her cheeks, and how bright her eyes would become, so much so that he tried to do all he could to keep them shining.

There would be many girls around with pretty hair, but no one smiled like Colette. On her last birthday, she had smiled so much, holding the necklace he made for her, shaped like an uneven star. It didn’t seem to matter to her that it wasn’t as good as the work his Dad would do. She had held it tightly between her fingers, and the feelings that he had been building for her in his chest, suddenly filled him to the point of overflowing. Something that made his heart beat fast, that nearly made him reach for her hands again until he held it back.

Lloyd wanted to tell her how he felt, but he was never very good at words, and…. he was afraid of saying so to her face. He then asked the smartest person he knew for help – his eight-year old best friend.

“You want to write what?” Genis asked. Both boys were seated before the small pond in front of Genis’ home. There was a tiny mound of pebbles placed between them, each trying their hand at skipping stones. Lloyd had the stronger arm to flick the stone straight past the pond’s perimeter, while Genis just lopped his own straight into the water.

“Just… like, a letter.” Lloyd didn’t look at Genis, keeping his eyes on the water and suddenly feeling very, very self-conscious about the whole thing. “For Colette. I want to write something for her. And I think I need your help doing it.”

He didn’t have to look to know Genis was frowning. “Sis says that your handwriting’s really bad.”

Lloyd started. “She’s not supposed to tell you that!”

“Sis tells me everything! And I’ve looked at your homework enough to know that already.” Genis continued their game, throwing another stone, once again smacking into the center of the pond. “I mean, I guess Colette might still be able to read it. What did you want to write her? Are you going away somewhere?”

“Um, no,” Lloyd said, confused. “Why?”

“People send letters to others when they’re far away, dummy. But you see Colette every day, so I don’t see why you need to? If you want to tell her something, just tell her!”

“I can’t… um…” Lloyd messed up his aim, the stone going off course to the left. “I can’t really say it out loud. Writing it just… seems easier... And you’re good at all that word stuff!”

A pause. “Just tell her you like her already.”

Lloyd’s stone hit right into the moss-covered fence, missing the pond completely. “How did you know?!” he asked, in awe of Genis’ insurmountable knowledge.

“Lloyd, after so long hanging out with you, how could I not know?” Genis finally succeeded in skipping a stone, hitting three splashes before it sunk. “Also, sis told me.”

Lloyd decided to be a little sulky at this, bringing his knees to his chin and staring ahead. “Jerk.”

Still, that was one hurdle overcome, and it gave the boy an opening that he took advantage of before it went away.

“You should just write my letter for me!”

“What?” Genis cried. “I’m not doing that!”

“Well, you owe it to me for being a jerk!”

“How was I a jerk?!”

Lloyd stood up, hand still clasping a pebble. “For saying my handwriting is dumb!”

Genis followed suit, his young face turning a light shade of red. “When did you ever care about that? And it’s true anyway! Besides, me writing your love letter for Colette is super weird!”

Lloyd stuttered out, “It- it’s not a love letter! And don’t say that so loud!”

“Oh, come on! Everyone already knows!”

“No, they don’t!” Lloyd countered, but struggled to think of a follow-up. It took him a full five seconds, fists clenched as he wracked his brain for something good to say. “And what do you know? You’re… only eight after all!”

Genis rolled his eyes. “That’s so lame.” With that, said eight-year old then turned around and lopped numerous pebbles into the lake, which shocked Lloyd to his core.

“That’s cheating! You can’t do that!”

“It’s my pond! So, it’s not!” Genis finished by crossing his arms, standing tall with a smug smile. That stance sparked a competitive beast within Lloyd, one that always seemed to come out whenever they played games together.

“Oh yeah?” He wound up his arm, aiming it at the pond again. “Check this out then!”

“Boys!” A shout reverberated from the house behind them. Raine had both hands on her hips, staring daggers at the children. “Please quiet down while I’m working. You two have been yelling the whole afternoon.”

Raine’s interruption was sudden. Her shout especially threw Lloyd off balance. Just when he was about to throw the stone, he wobbled and threw it at a completely opposite direction – toward Raine’s head.

“Ow! Lloyd!”

Lloyd had never run out of a place so fast.

Genis had come by his home the next day, lugging a giant textbook in his arms, and saying no words about his sister. He dropped it on Lloyd’s worktable, making the structure rattle from the weight. “That’s a thesaurus,” Genis said to Lloyd’s befuddled expression. “To help you find good words for your letter to Colette.”

Lloyd looked blankly at the book. “…Do I have to read all of it?”

“No, just find the page of the word you want to say, but better. It’s in alphabetical order.” Genis then raised an eyebrow. “You… do know your alphabet, right?”

“I’m not that dumb!”

“I’m just making sure!”

The book was as thick as one of his dad’s arms. Lloyd was wondering just how exactly Genis was able to make it through the long trek in the forest while carrying that around. He was good at magic, but shouldn’t he need at least one hand free to do any of that…?

Genis answered his unspoken question. “Sis came with me. She’s just outside.”

“Oh.” Lloyd grew nervous. “Um, is she…”

“She’s fine, though she’s got a nasty bump on her head.”

Lloyd was already not looking forward to Monday.

“Anyway, just use this so you can write your love letter to Colette. I even bookmarked the pages with the words you might want. Like ‘nice’, and ‘pretty’, and ‘the’…”

“I told you, it’s not a love letter!” That sounded so uncool! “But, um, thanks,” he said in a more somber tone.

Genis smirked. “Don’t think too hard on it anyway. I’d help, but Raine wants to try out a new recipe today and I have to make sure she doesn’t melt our cooking pot again.”

Lloyd had intense sympathies for his friend just then. “Sorry.”

Before Genis turned to go, he said, “If you really don’t like what you wrote, I guess I could try writing your letter for you. It’ll be really weird, but only if your letter is that bad. You’d have to rewrite it in your handwriting though. Colette would at least recognize that it wasn’t your writing for sure.”

Lloyd was tempted to jump at the chance. Since Genis let him copy his homework all the time, how was this any different? But then he thought about it, and about Colette’s smile. Is that something Genis would even notice?

“Thanks, Genis,” he said simply, still mulling over his thoughts, barely noticing when his friend finally left the room.

After that, Lloyd put all his willpower into just trying to open the humongous book. He immediately regretted this decision. He already had to write. Why did he need to read, too? Couldn’t he just copy one of those dumb love poems that the Professor made them read for literature class and be done with it?! Not that it was a love poem to begin with!

Lloyd sat at his desk, eyes glazing over the pages, idly noticing the bookmarks that Genis had placed. Why did he want to write this so bad? When he could barely write an essay to save his life, and his grade?

Colette had been so busy with her Church duties lately. She left class early to attend even more lessons, walking a far stretch of land to the temple. Despite how long Lloyd would wait for her, hours after school was already over, the sky would start to darken once she returned. So little time left together before he had to march back home with a whining Noishe. Colette would always apologize on those days, her hands unconsciously touching the necklace he made for her. If only he could have made a better one, if only he could say something that would make her magically stop apologizing and thinking everything was her fault.

He hoped that this letter would make her happy at least, if he couldn’t do all that. He wanted her to smile without fear, and he wanted her to cry whenever she wanted. There were tears in her eyes when he and Genis found her on her birthday, seated on the grass, away from the village. But she had wiped them away before they got close. Lloyd wondered how often she held those tears back. He wanted to tell her that she could cry in front of him if she needed to.

There were too many things that he wanted to say. He dug his fingers through his hair and pulled at them in frustration. “Argh, why does writing have to be hard?”

But like when he made her the necklace, he decided to push through. His skills may not be the best, but he could at least try! He searched for a piece of paper and pen, both so dusty from their lack of use. “Okay! I’ll do it!” he shouted to no one in particular.

It was the first time Lloyd ever pulled an all-nighter.

Lloyd could barely think straight the next morning.

The problem with getting little sleep was that it made his journey to Iselia a bit harder. Luckily, no monsters attacked him this time, and Noishe was more than willing to guide the boy. He was so tired that he was nearly falling asleep atop the dog. Colette, who liked to greet Lloyd everyday (and his cute doggy!) was waiting by the village entrance for him. She immediately noticed the bags under his eyes.

“Lloyd, you look so sleepy,” she commented with worry.

He smiled at her tiredly. “I’m okay, just… had to do chores and junk.”

She smiled back, going over to pat Noishe’s head, scratching behind his big ears and laughing as she did so. Her shoulder brushed past Lloyd, just against the inside pocket of his jacket.

The letter was in there.

Colette didn’t seem to have noticed it. “Ready to go?” she asked him, already starting on their way to the schoolhouse.

This was the time to give it to her. His hands still ached from holding the pen for hours. Bunches of balled up paper littered his room, which would result in an angry Dirk later for not cleaning up. All he had to do was hand her the paper he held close to his chest and tell her what he felt. He had done it so easily with the necklace, despite how much his heart trembled. But the way she was looking at him, so expectant, suddenly froze Lloyd’s limbs.

“Uh…” he started, throat all dry. Noishe sneezed behind him, making him jump. “Um, uh, y-yeah! Let’s go!”

Ah, damn it.

Colette was already leading the way as Lloyd followed her. He could call out and stop her at any time, but his hands were shaking. He had worked so hard on this! Just give it to her!

His numerous chances completely vanished once they finally walked into the classroom. Immediately, he was greeted to Raine’s face – and the small bandage on her head.

“Good morning, everyone,” Raine said as she was seated at her big desk. Sharp eyes latched onto Lloyd quickly. “Good morning, Lloyd. Glad you could join us.”

Wow, that bump really was big! Lloyd winced at the sight, shifting nervously on his feet. “Sorry about… um..” Why could he suddenly not talk today?

“It’s fine. Go take your seat. And Colette, you don’t need to be late yourself just because Lloyd is, too.”

“I- I know! I’m sorry.”

Lloyd watched forlornly as Colette rushed far to her seat, all the way on the other side of the classroom. He had missed his chance…

“Lloyd.”

“Uh, yeah! Sorry!”

It was normal for him to barely pay attention in class, but never before had his mind buzzed so much as it did now. Lloyd’s desk was shifted all the way to the right wall, ever since the ‘desk carving’ incident where Professor Raine thought it best that his acts of vandalism would not be spurred on by a gleeful audience (ie: Colette). Lloyd shifted every so often, unable to take sitting there for six hours until he could finally give it to Colette… but then, didn’t she have to go to the temple later for her Chosen stuff? Argh, he was never going to get it to her then!

Lloyd glanced at the blackboard ahead and saw Raine writing down some math equations. So boring! He knew Colette didn’t like math that much either. Sometimes, he would pass her notes while in class, usually with badly-drawn pictures of dogs (he could carve well enough, but drawing wasn’t his strong suit). But now she was rows away, so that was a bust. Maybe he could have handed her the letter then…

A brilliant idea lit up Lloyd’s mind.

“So, we will be going over the basics once more.” A collective sigh from most in the classroom. “Yes, I know most of you have this down by now, but this will be a good refresher. As well as help catch up those who are behind.”

A furious crinkling of paper whispered from Lloyd’s desk, but luckily Raine’s voice was louder, overpowering any other sound. Genis heard it however, turning around to spy at his friend who was bent over his desk. He was folding up something. Was he making those paper cranes again? Lloyd knew he could just do that during art class, didn’t he?

“Now, from the beginning. When you have one apple, combined with another apple…”

But Genis had never seen Lloyd work so hard on those things before. Being around two rows ahead of Lloyd, he couldn’t see very well, but strained his neck trying to anyway.

“Obviously, it amounts to two apples. This only increases the number of said apples, and not, as some would say, their apparent strength. Numbers can denote different values, and they are not equivalent for all situations.”

Lloyd sat up straight suddenly and seemed to smile at his own handiwork. It was a simple paper plane, though one miles better than what Genis could ever make. Then Lloyd turned to his left, one where Genis knew Colette was sitting.

That was how he was going to deliver his love letter?!

“Ms. Raine,” spoke up one student, a girl with thick glasses, who sat just ahead of the young Chosen. “Would it be alright if I can open the window? It’s getting very humid.”

Lloyd didn’t notice Genis’ open-mouthed stare. This was the best thing he ever thought up! He didn’t have to wait for who knows how long to give this to her. That and he wouldn’t need to just stand there awkwardly while she read it either.

He paid no attention to what was happening up front.

“Alright, Laura. You can do so. Now, let’s review fractions.”

Lloyd calculated the arc of his flight, and then flew his paper plane with careful force. Not like skipping stones, but he was usually better at this. The plane circled just above Colette’s head.

Then the window opened.

The breeze was a bit sudden, ruffling the pages of some open books. Colette brushed back some loose strands over her ear to keep them from flying in her face.

She never noticed the plane above suddenly change direction.

“Aw man!”

Lloyd’s cry of dismay was a bit loud, attracting numerous eyes. The paper plane continued to fly drunkenly above the ceiling, buffeted by light winds before it finally decided to settle on a flat surface with a less than graceful landing.

And it did so on top of Raine’s desk.

Raine looked to it, then back to Lloyd. “What’s this, Lloyd?”

The boy went very pale. Wow, this… did not go as planned at all.

The kids in the classroom then started to voice their own theories on the mysterious paper.

“Is it those doggy drawings again?”

“I bet it’s a gross picture of Ms. Raine!”

“No, it’s a love letter to Ms. Raine!”

“He can’t do that! He’s not in the club!”

Raine ignored all the mutterings and went to pick up the paper. “Well, if this is so important that you needed to interrupt our lesson, Lloyd, then I suppose you won’t mind if I share this with the rest of the class.”

“Wait!” Lloyd shouted. He got so frantic that he jumped right onto his desk, flailing his arms. “Don’t look! That’s not-!”

“Lloyd Irving, get down!

Raine already unfolded the paper plane, not checking if Lloyd heeded her words. He didn’t, standing stock still as she read aloud.

“Roses are red, violets are blue, out of a million people, I chose you…”

Genis slapped his forehead. “You started off with that?!”

“I – I was stuck on the first sentence, okay?” Lloyd yelled.

Raine continued, her voice completely stripped of all emotion.

“Please take my hand, and also know, that whatever you say, I will like the…” Raine squinted. “More? Moist? Oh, it’s ‘most.’” She sighed. “Lloyd, your handwriting has improved, but only slightly…”

The other students laughed, pointing at the boy who was still standing tall on his desk. He quickly scampered back down, but Raine continued to read. Did she know no mercy?!

“The rest doesn’t rhyme, but I want to say, I really like you and want to see you smile. But if you want to cry, that’s okay, too. You are…” Raine squinted her eyes again, though this time in confusion than out of any reading difficulty. “The superlative lassie with the prevalent aortic pump that myself comprehend of.” Silence followed shortly after.

“Wow, and it started off so romantic, too,” a student critiqued aloud.

Genis turned to Lloyd. “Why.”

“I was using the thesaurus like you said to! I wanted to sound all smart!”

“You could’ve just said heart!”

There was apparently more, as Raine’s eyes scanned the lower parts of the letter. But then she folded it up, deciding enough was enough. “Lloyd, while I am flattered you feel that way about me, please don’t throw your proclamations of love around in the classroom. Someone could lose an eye.”

The kids laughed, shouting popular love rhymes as Lloyd looked down, his face red. Though a few remained pointedly silent; the boys of Professor Raine’s club, muttering vengeance for Lloyd taking their beloved’s attention, Genis who was still wrapping his head around it all, and Colette, her eyes still that bright blue. Lloyd had sneaked a quick glance at her, and immediately felt like complete crud.

“Now, I appreciate a man that can transcribe his thoughts neatly. So, we will be going back to our handwriting lessons, Lloyd, after school.”

“Now he gets private lessons too? Come on!”

Unlike the other boys, Lloyd was not so thrilled. This was just another punishment, with even less time he would have with Colette. He looked back to the girl, but her eyes were forward again as Raine restarted her lesson. He hoped he hadn’t messed anything up.

Next time, he was just sticking with jewelry.

Genis couldn’t help but feel bad about the entire thing.

The day dragged on, Raine’s lessons already erasing the previous incident with little impact, except to Lloyd’s pride. The boy had tried to sneak away when class ended, but not before Raine called out to him.

“Now, Lloyd. If you really want to see me smile, you will do these extra lessons for me.”

Most of the class had already left, Colette earlier than most, as she once again had gone off early for Temple training. Only Genis straggled, as he always did to talk with his sister. He watched as Lloyd sulked, walking up to the front of the class.

“You know that wasn’t meant for you,” Lloyd mumbled, still embarrassed.

Raine’s face betrayed no surprise. Instead, she spoke, “Of course. I saw her name on it, no matter how sloppily written it was. And I was there when Genis decided to hand you our thesaurus, after all.” Then, her voice turned a fraction softer, preceding her words with a sigh. “I suggest you tell her your feelings in a more discreet manner, preferably not during class time.”

The boy had no defense to that. “Fine. Sorry.”

Genis wondered then if he really should have written the letter himself.

Lloyd was already morosely writing out sentences on the chalkboard once Genis left, the excuse given to his sister that he would start making her dinner. Despite being only eight, he was a fast learner when it came to cooking (and most other things too, of course). Besides, when one lived with Raine, learning to cook was a necessity.

Instead, he went down the path that led to the temple, where the shore was outstretched. He wasn’t really allowed to go out by himself, but his window of opportunity was short! He had to hurry before Raine would finally leave the schoolhouse.

He barely turned the corner to go outside the village before bumping into someone.

“Genis! I’m sorry!”

Colette had landed on her back, looking up at the young boy with apologetic eyes. Genis remained standing, looking down at her with some bewilderment.

“You know, Lloyd has a point. You really do apologize too much!” He reached for her hand, trying to pull her up as much as his little body was able to. Colette mostly got up through her own strength, but she thanked him all the same.

“Hey, Colette, I actually wanted to tell you something. Is now a good time?”

“Oh, of course!” she answered, hands clasped politely. No priests were with her now, not even her grandmother. This was probably the first time Genis had ever seen her walk by herself from the temple. “Grandmother had to finish up some things,” she said to the question in his eyes. “And they say it’s good training if I walk around this place by myself more often. So that I can prepare for my journey!”

She said this with such positivity that, for a moment, Genis saw something in her eyes. But it vanished so fast. Perhaps it hadn’t been that important.

“It’s about Lloyd and his letter, from today.”

“The letter he wrote to Professor Raine?” She smiled again. “She is really pretty though.”

“But that was for you!”

Colette paused, hands still clasped before her. Genis couldn’t read her face. He decided to just explain further.

“Lloyd wanted to write how he felt about you, but he’s so thick-headed and just didn’t give it to you like any normal person would. He even asked me for help and everything. So, all those things about red roses and your smile and…” A sigh, so much like his sister’s. “Aortic pumps, were for you. This is so weird for me to talking about, but Lloyd’s my friend and I just thought you should know!”

Colette remained silent. Genis then wondered if maybe this was the worst thing he could’ve done for his friend actually, but not like the other options were much better! “You don’t have to tell Lloyd or anything if you don’t like him back. I don’t think he’s going to be writing anymore love letters anytime soon.”

“I do, though.”

Very soft, a breath, one that was swallowed up by the ocean’s waves from far off. Even Genis’ nimble hearing could barely make out a sound.

“I do like him. A lot. So much… I’m sorry.”

Genis considered. “And you’re apologizing… why?”

Colette shook her head, though kept on her smile. It was wider, showing a bit of teeth, and her cheeks stretched enough to create dimples.

“I’m really glad all those things were for me. I’m so happy.”

This worked out even better than Genis had hoped for. He really was smart! “Great! Then you can tell him too and be all happy together.”

That smile faltered. Colette looked off to the side, where her home was. The sky was painted with hues of orange and gold, inviting a certain sleepy air to the world. “I, well, I can’t.” She looked like she would say more, but instead just shrugged.

Genis already had to cut short his self-praises. “Huh? Wait, why can’t you tell him?”

 “I can’t.” She repeated. Then a shaking of her head. “I can’t.”

Genis blinked owlishly. Everything that had suddenly made sense to the smartest kid in class just as abruptly didn’t at all. “What? I don’t get it. If you like Lloyd, too, then why not…”

Colette smiled, with closed lips, and her cheeks as unstrained as possible.

“I don’t want him hurt, that’s all. So, keep this a secret between us, okay?” Hands fiddled before her, clasped together so tightly. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, well… okay.” Genis frowned, then just let out a tired breath. “I really don’t get you older kids though. Is this how I’ll be later?”

Colette giggled. “You’ll be great, I think!” She pressed her hands down her dress, addressing any invisible wrinkles. “Um, is Lloyd still in the village? I was hoping to see him after, but my training always lasts really late now.”

“He’s getting tutoring from sis, and suffering.”

“Oh no! Poor Lloyd.”

“I think it’s going to be done soon though. This is usually the time she gets hungry.” Then Genis flinched. “Argh, I have to start making dinner!” Before he rushed off, he said to Colette, “I bet Lloyd would be happy to see you!”

It was the last thing he could do for his friend, despite all this weirdness about feelings and secrets. He was glad to see that Colette nodded to that idea.

“I’ll go see him right now!”

“Great! I’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

While he rushed through Iselia, already catching Colette going through the school doors, Genis really had to wonder. Maybe this was what love was about, after all?

But what do I know, he thought to himself, pushing all the questions aside. I’m only eight years old, after all.

[singingflames]

The Definition of Debonair (Supernatural)

Summary: During their search for Lucifer, Castiel and Crowley seek answers from a lair of nymphs. There’s only one way to deal with nymphs. Word Count: 1200+ Warnings: Mentioned nudity (hello, nymphs) A/N: This is my submissions for the Seasons Fan Book at @spnshortstories. 

“Why me?” Castiel grumbled into his earpiece. In their search for Lucifer, they’d visited many places, but this… he sighed and looked around. This was beyond his comfort level. He gazed at the mansion gates and the flourishing vegetation visible through the bars and draped over the wall. Despite the chill wind and the dusting of snow, the trees and shrubbery were inexplicably green and vibrant.

“You don't listen very well, do you, darling?” Crowley’s smooth voice answered in his ear. “Trust me, I would love nothing more than to be in your shoes, entering a den of nymphs. But, sadly, the lovely ladies don’t care for demons. And no human can resist their charms long enough to get any information. So, what we need is a fine, handsome fellow who is neither demon nor human. Enter, you.”

“Why would they talk to me?” Castiel grimaced. Nymphs weren’t known for casually sharing knowledge.

“They’re creatures of the most hedonistic desires. Something I understand quite well.” Crowley chuckled. “Satisfy those desires, and they will happily tell you anything.”

“I am distinctly uncomfortable with this.”

Crowley sighed, the soft sound barely audible over the wind. “All you need do is flirt with the dearies. Charm them up. Be suave. Debonair.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Stupid.”

“Preferably not.”

A sudden gust tore down the street, throwing loose snow about. A lone soda can rattled across the pavement. The angel tightened his jacket about him, more from habit than any need of comfort. The winter weather did not bother him. Across the way, the bountiful vegetation seemed similarly unaffected. Certainly, the nymphs would not want their precious plants to perish, but there must be a more subtle way for them to exist? Perhaps farther south, in a warmer climate, or…

“Are you still standing there, wings?” Crowley’s voice over the earpiece startled him. “Chop, chop. Things to do, nymphs to seduce, Lucifer to find. Remember?”

“This is ridiculous.” Hunching his shoulders, Castiel moved to the gate. Latched to the side was a buzzer, complete with camera and speaker. He pressed the button.

A few moments later, a melodious feminine voice emerged from the speaker. “Yes?”

Castiel opened his mouth and realized, in his flustered state, he hadn't prepared a cover story. “Um. Can I come in?”

“My,” Crowley cut in, “that was smooth.”

The woman hummed. “My my, an angel. A cute one, too.”

“I'm not sure I qualify as ‘cute’. I've seen others-”

“Don't argue, idiot!” He flinched at the demon’s sudden outburst, his hand moving up to rub his ear. Crowley continued, “Trust me, you're beautiful. Now, go and try not to bullock this up.”

Over the gate’s speaker, Castiel heard giggles. “We’d love to meet you, sweetie. Come on in, out of the cold.”

He muttered his thanks and opened the gate, ignoring Crowley’s snort of disbelief. Inside, the temperature climbed several degrees, although the frigid breeze still blew over him. Glancing around the garden, Castiel noticed several flowers, their petals tipped in frost - brilliant blue scilla siberica and vivid yellow forsythia suspensa amongst others - blooming both out of season and thousands of miles away from their native soil. Nymphs loved their flora.

Crowley’s voice interrupted his musing. “You know, given the ladies’ reputation, there’s a fair chance you’ll get lucky in there.”

“Good. We could use a break in our search.”

“Must I preface my statements with, ‘This is a sexual innuendo,’ or will you ever catch on? Honestly, that was an easy one.”

“Have you considered limiting your use of innuendos?” Castiel asked.

“No.”

Castiel shook his head. As he approached the manor’s moss-covered oak door, he schooled his features to a neutral expression. What had Crowley suggested? Seducing the nymphs? How did he do that? He couldn’t see himself employing any of Dean’s methods - not well at any rate - and he didn’t have any experience of his own to draw from.

The door opened.

Two exquisite women stood within. Naked. Silky hair flowed down their bare shoulders - one radiant scarlet, the other deep obsidian - that did nothing to cover their state of undress.

Castiel coughed. “Um.”

“Well, hello.” Their eyes traveled over him. The redhead licked her lips. Neither seemed to notice the bitter wind.

“Um.”

Crowley cut in over the radio, “Say something. I don’t care what. Just speak!”

The nymphs giggled, looking between each other.

Castiel cleared his throat. “Hi.”

“Hey,” the nymphs responded, in unison.

“Aren't you the definition of debonair,” Crowley said.

“Hi,” Castiel repeated, swallowing.

Redhead blew him a kiss, then leaned in and intertwined her arm with Darkhair.

Castiel’s gaze slid aside. “Hi.”

“Pigeon,” Crowley interrupted with a sigh, “expand your vocabulary. Please?”

Darkhair beckoned him forward with one languid finger. Redhead eyed him through her lashes, teeth pulling at her lip.

Castiel scratched the back of his neck. “Hello.”

“Not an improvement. I said expand your vocabulary, not use a thesaurus,” Crowley said.

“What’s that? Do you hear something?” Redhead said, stepping out into the snow.

“Bugger all,” Crowley muttered.

“Yes,” Darkhair answered. She strode forward, uncaring of the weather against her bare flesh. She ran her hands up Castiel’s lapels. Her fingers curled up either side of his face, nails tracing his chin to his ears. “Tell me, sweet angel, do you hear voices?”

“Um.”

Darkhair plucked the earpiece from Castiel’s ear and tossed it aside. “Come, scrumptious one. Let’s go inside and warm up.”

Castiel pushed the gates open, coattails fluttering against his legs. As soon as he cleared the barrier, Crowley materialized.

“That was barely an hour. I'd thought angels would have more stamina.”

“What?” Castiel asked, eyebrows pinched together.

Crowley continued as if Castiel hadn't spoken. “So, how many of the lovely ladies were in residence?”

“I met with seven, although there may well have been more I didn't see.”

“Seven? Nice.” Crowley smirked. “How did it go?”

Castiel sighed. “They didn't know anything. They barely knew about the first time Lucifer escaped the Cage. Certainly nothing about our current situation.”

“Ah. Straight to business, was it?”

“Not really.” Castiel tilted his head, squinting. “The trick with nymphs is not to ask direct questions when you want information. They asked about my family, so I brought up my big brothers and asked what they’d heard of all four of them. Surprisingly little, it turns out.”

“So you, what, talked? With nymphs?”

“That was the plan, yes? They seemed quite eager to learn about me.”

“Pet, they were buttering you up.” At Castiel’s confused look, Crowley continued. “It’s a common flirtatious technique. Humans are masters of it. The individual asks meaningless, inane questions about the person they’re attracted to: their family, their job, what have you. They don’t care about any of that drivel, just the end game.” The corners of Crowley’s mouth turned up in a suggestive smile. “So, whatever did you regale the dears with?”

“They asked about life as an angel. I told them about our daily routines: our exercises, sparring, patrols, contemplation, meditation-”

“Utterly fascinating. Truly.” Crowley rolled his eyes. “Let me see if I have this right. You had seven - seven! - gorgeous women, known for their voracious sexual appetites and you… discussed meditation?”

“Among other things.”

“And what happened after this riveting conversation?”

Castiel’s gaze drifted aside. “They fell asleep.”

“Well done, mate.”

Tagging: @spnshortstories, @roxy-davenport, @ilostmyshoe-79 (Unfortunately, I lost my tag list, so my apologies if I didn’t tag you and you wished to be!)

Second A/N: This story has a bittersweet place in my heart. I finished it while my husband was still in the hospital and we believed he would recover. He passed away and I haven’t been able to bring myself to truly write since. 

[punk-in-docs]

Loving The Handsome Duke of Chatsworth, Chapter 11

TITLE: Loving The Handsome Duke of Chatsworth.      

CHAPTER NO: Chapter Eleven

SYNOPSIS: Tom Hiddleston AU Love story - Set in the Victorian Era… Circa 1858 to be precise…                                                                                  

AUTHOR: @punk-in-docs   

AO3 LINK: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4108306?view_full_work=true

“Elizabeth, Mrs Sharpe will throw a cantankerous paroxysm of the most gargantuan proportions if she knew where we are. She said you were to given strict instructions as to remain indoors all day…” Felicity pointed out.

Elizabeth huffed, head held high as she walked ahead of her sister down the tarmac path. She had elected to get herself out of doors to get some fresh air in Hyde Park, bringing her Sister along as society dictated she must, and because Felicity was too argumentative to be refused on such an outing to the park. Unfortunately. And even more annoyingly her sister’s words were of some irritating truth. Mrs Sharpe was inisted last night, as to her fainting episode into Mr Carlton’s arms, and her stepmother had declared – with ultimate authority and final conviction on the matter - that she was to remain in the front parlour all day. Close to her bed or a sofa for if she felt faintness overwhelm her again. Elizabeth felt she could not point out that fresh air would do her bored ‘injured’ state wonders.

“Have you been exploring the thesaurus in Father’s study again?”

Elizabeth asked her sister curiously as she skipped to catch up to her behind her striding gait. What such words as ‘cantankerous’ and ‘paroxysm’ were words that deserved to come out of the mouth of a most silly and unstudious sixteen year old? Anyway, never the matter…

She leant her head down to sniff at the intoxicatingly sweet roses she had procured from a street vender on their way here. She remembers blushing as he let her have them for ten shillings rather than the half crown they were usually priced at. ‘beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady’ he had remarked. She had smiled sweetly, and insisted on pressing an extra shilling into his beefy hand for his troubles, to which he awarded her a wide grin, with one tooth missing from his upper jaw. He took his flat cap off to her, declaring she was as kind as she was pretty, too.

She had then paid no heed to how after they walked away, Libby cradling the paper wrapped crimson roses to her chest, and that Felicity had scoffed. “uhh, I declare there is not one man in London who does not fancy you, Elizabeth..” with a cheeky smile that she was famous for.

Because Elizabeth had then rolled her eyes and given her one of her finest looks of discernable irascability…

She daren’t exclaim that she agreed with her sister. Of course, she was dressed in one of her less finer gowns, she’d admit. Her rose pink coloured silk, with a dark blue decorated bowler hat on her head, and a long Navy velvet jacket over such, she had also put in the pearl droplet earrings that Mrs Sharpe had given her as a present for her 18th birthday. Her hair loosely coiffed up, as she had decided to do it herself this morning, not bothering to fetch Nessie. Already as she was walking along, she felt some curls come free from the hold in the pins. She didn’t look overly striking today, she had only swept on a light layer of cold cream, not having bothered with rouge on her cheeks. She didn’t mind her pale ness sometimes. She was still a little shaken from last night, she could tell, every now and then her hands would tremble. And it wouldn’t do to also exclaim that she had knotted a light silk blue scarf about her neck to cover it, so as Mrs Sharpe would not see her bruises caused by Mr Burkes rough assualting hands.

What was worse though, was that Sir Thomas had seen them. And would doubtless ask her questions as to how she got them. And she’d have to give him the awful truth…

He had declared he would call upon her at noon tomorrow, and it was twenty too twelve, now. She was walking fast as she was able, there was a hideous looking black sky towering over London in foggy grey clouds, threatening to unleash a storm of bitterly cold rain upon the city.

She and Felicity were cutting through a heavily wooded part of the park to get home faster. Her reveries inside her own fanciful head were cut short when she heard a low rumble of thunder roll across the sky like a deep clashing distraction pulling her from her own thoughts with the deepest sense of dread.

“I think we’d better be hasty Felicity, If we want to outrun the storm…”

Elizabeth said, her eyes to the sky. She turned about to her side as she spoke, where her sister had been walking alongside her a mere moment’s previously. But Elizabeth’s stomach dropped to her feet like a penny sinking into a fountain. She wasn’t there. She’d gone.

“Felicity?”

She cried louder in horror and shock, spinning wildy around. There was no one else within distance whom she could see. No one else had been near them. They had passed some ladies and one gentleman earlier. But there had been no one since. They were sensible enough to ensure they didn’t have to risk getting caught in the storm… she thought to herself.

 She had been foolish enough to have the forethought to think she could avoid it also… Perhaps she should have listened to Mrs Sharpes wise advice and stayed indoors..

“Don’t get your bloomers in a twist Elizabeth. I’m up here..”

Came Felicity’s disjointed voice from somewhere above her sister’s head, among the tall trees.

Libby craned her head upwards, to find that, of course, she could see a flash of her sister’s powder pink gown up high in a farwaway tree, Felicity had decided to climb a tree, among all things. Sometimes it didn’t leave her wondering if her kid sister wasn’t half parented by a gang of apes.

“Get down, this instance, you idiot.”

Elizabeth called up to her, walking over to the tree that was perched precariously on part of the woods that carved away into a steep bank. Felicity ought have care how she came down, one step too far and she’d topple down the long steeped bank below them. And it didn’t look pleasant at the bottom, Elizabeth fancied as she peered down. Full of muck, sharp rocks and leaves to cushion ones fall. She didn’t wish for her sister to tumble down there for everything in the world…

The tree she had elected to climb up was wide and had enough of a branch to ensure that her sister had a good foothold. But it was a horse chestnut tree, if Libby wasn’t mistaken. The dark beige bark was slimy with moss and various green fungi. It made Elizabeth’s stomach lurch nervously to think what would happen if Felicity’s foothold slipped. Heavens, it made her quite sick thinking about it.

“I hope you and the Duke don’t sire children. If that’s how you choose to talk to your own baby sister, I shudder to think how you’ll address your own little ones.…”

Felicity mocked, stepping across from one branch to another, holding ones located higher up in the tree with her hands.

Elizabeth’s head twisted back around to glance at the sky, the black clouds seemed angrier now, more full of stormy rain to unleash down on them with vicious fury. And they were gliding closer in their direction too. But what made her look was that another loud clash of thunder shook the sky, a flash of terrible lightning striking Elizabeth’s blood to run cold beforehand. And indeed, her worst fears were confirmed.

A single big fat, ice cold raindrop landed on her cheek. Bursting across her skin and rolling away down her cheek. And many more thudded down heavily to the ground surrounding her after it. It appears they did not have such good fortune as to avoid the storm after all.

“Felicity. Come down, it’s started raining, you’ll get drenched…”

Elizabeth called up, it had only been raining for a few seconds, and already the heavy drops that had battered down on her had trickled down the back of her coat and her silken pink collar, making her dreadfully cold, her back felt half soaked through already.

A shaky worried gasp escaped from Elizabeth’s lips as another strong fleet of wind and rain washed over her, accompanied by a rather severe lash of bright white lightning, and a deep boom of thunder. What made her so uneasy, was that it sounded right above them, in the very park they were walking through.

“Felicity, come down, NOW!..”

Elizabeth called, urgently. Her tone was one of worry and not-to-be-trifled-with command.

Felicity said naught but moved to adhere to her sister’s request. Holding onto one branch as she moved her feet onto a sturdier looking one. She had only been up the tree for no longer than a couple of moment’s, yet she was already soaked through. Her brown curls plastered to her neck, skin dripping wet and her gown felt sodden and heavy. Clinging to her legs. She didn’t like to do as she was told, especially not by her bossy and always right elder sister, but right then, she really did want to come down. Whether as instructed, or by her own will. She didn’t care. She wanted to go home now.

Little did she know, that the branch she was stepping down onto, however, was not as sturdy as it looked.

Felicity felt a sickening lurch of terror grip her innards, as her strong foothold suddenly felt like it would send her tumbling from the tree. The branch was starting to break away from the tree under her slight weight.

 “Elizabeth!”

Felicity cried in terror. Her back thudding against the tree as she wrapped her arms back about it for dear life. Coppery eyes wide with terror as another flash of lightning lit up the sky, and angry thunder proceeded it.

Elizabeth felt sick, but she knew she had to try and help her sister.

The flowers she cradled closer to her shoulder, leaning up to the tree as she reached on tiptoes and held out one gloved hand, stretching her body up to try and reach Felicity.

“Slide down and give me your hand…”

Elizabeth urged slowly, Felicity would never forget the look that was on her sister’s face right then. Most people when in a similar state of panic would look wild, and frenzied. Aside from the slight wideness of her big baby doll blue eyes, she looked composed and serene as she looked up to help. Her red curls had dropped down with the weight of the rain, as it trickled off the brim of her hat, sticking tendrils of her red hair to the side of her neck and her face.

That was before she had an idea, in order to stop Felicity’s shoes slipping on the tree, she shucked off her coat and laid it at her sister’s feet. Meaning that now, she had virtually no defence against the unrelentless heavy spattering rain. As she slid her coat off, she had to try and dissaude her teeth from clacking together, her silk gown now sodden, sticking to her skin, making her icily cold.

“Lay that across the branch, you won’t slip that way..”

She insisted, calling loudly over the wind and thunder.

Felicity nodded. Eyes wide, and trembling with cold and terror. Shuffling the coat about under her feet. But it appears, not fannning it wide enough. Her flimsy slippers still managed to catch a small patch of slippy green moss that her sister’s coat didn’t cloak.

Felicity screamed as her foot was plunged down into thin air as she slipped, her leg kicking out to steady herself, but this was not wise, as the thing she caught her foot on, was, in fact the loose branch which now swung away from the tree.

Felicty couldn’t even spare the precious second to scream in warning to her sister.

Where Elizabeth had turned to look at a thrash of thunder and lightning that shook the ground, her head was turned away, so she didn’t see the cumbersome branch swing her way until it was far too late…

Felicity would also never forget the sickening thud as the heavy trees branch met with the front of Elizabeth’s forehead.

Felicity could only scream in helplessness as Libby was thrown clean off her feet, her lithe body hurtled far down the steep bank, away from Felicity’s sight. All she could now see was the scattered burst of rosepetals strewn across the leafy floor, leading like a hideous trail to where her sister had fallen. The branch had also swept her hat clean from her head. That too now lay forgotten on the woods floor.

 “LIBBY!”

Felicity yelled.

She couldn’t tell whether tears or rain were cascading down her face now, but all she knows is, that she had to try and help her sister. She slid the rest of the way out of the tree, tugging the coat with her, placing it over herself to try and keep herself as dry as she could. The coat was sodden too. She landed with a thud onto the ground, not caring that her dress was now streaked with mud and bits of undergrowth as she landed by falling onto her front.

When she scrambled up, she could see that her hem was six inches deep in muck, and her ankle throbbed so painfully that she almost couldn’t walk on it. But nonetheless, she staggered down over the lip of the pit Libby had gone down, nearly tumbling head over heels, it was so steep, as she ran through the pelting rain down to Elizabeth. Trying not to tread on the huge navy swathes of her sister’s soggy coat that was much too big for her.

She was able to see her sister’s form lay several metres below her, rested at the bottom of the steep banked pit. Her body looked broken and fragmented, she lay on her side, facing away from Felicity, her red hair tangled and most of it thrown free from her pins, the red curls now matted with dirt and stray leaves. Her clothes too, were mussed and covered in dirt and wet mud, her gown looked sodden to the touch. Felicity let out a sob as she got to her sister, placing her hands to her sisters back, shaking her to try and wake her up.

“Elizabeth, please, wake up…”

She sobbed, stroking red hairs away that had been thrown into her pale face, stuck there by the rain. Felicity’s small muddy hands, from where she landed flat to the ground out of the tree, left a smudge of dirt across Libby’s pale cheek.

 “Elizabeth please..”

Felicity shook harder. Nudging her shoulder now with both hands, shaking her more furiously in attempts to wake her. But it was no use. Every new shake just confirmed her fears, that her sister was just limp under her attentions. Head rolling about unresponsive on her neck. Looking like she was deep and sound asleep.

Felicity wiped a hand down her face. She had to leave her to go and get help. It was dangerous, but otherwise, if she just left her here, she could die. How had such a simple walk in the park turned to this horrific catastrophe?

She tried to move her sister, seeing if she could maybe carry her. But it was no use, her sister wasn’t heavy at all. But the fact that she was dressed in a now soaked through gown of silk, and all the heavy underskirts would mean she was of no weight that a slight sixteen year old could manage on their own.

“Elizabeth, I’ll go home, I’ll go and get help!”

She spoke to her sister speaking loudly through the rain and thunder, she didn’t care if she could hear her or not. She sobbed through her words, taking one last tearful glance at her big sister, as if she never would again, before tearing herself away and running in the quickest direction that would lead her right home as fast as she was able.

She tore through the woods as fast as her spindly legs would carry her. Not stopping even when she tripped and stumbled, falling over to land with her lungs winded, she just scrambled up, sobbing and carried on running. She didn’t even flinch as she ran full pelt through the trees, and one spindly branch carved a deep searing scratch across her cheek. She wiped away the tear of blood and continued to run, hair sailing out behind her, lungs pounding as much as her slippered feet were. But she didn’t care. She had to get help.

Elizabeth’s life depended on it.

Little did the youngest Farrow Miss know, but there was a spectator to the little heartrending happenstance during the rain and thunder. He sat far away, watching from horseback as the whole thing unfolded, the tree branch hitting Elizabeth, Felicity stumbling from the tree, landing awkwardy, no doubt injuring her leg as she now limped to attend her sister, before running away, presumably to fetch help, he had seen it all. He was cutting through the park to avoid the storm when he saw them both, there was no mistaking that Eldest Miss Farrow’s red hair from even a mile off. He had watched over her with those dark brown eyes, rimmed with a slight tinge of green, looking over it all from under the brim of his hat. Face stony and unresponsive. And then, Marcus Burke turned his horse about, and galloped away in the opposite direction as quickly as he had come.

  It wasn’t up to him to care…

@echantedbytwh @wolfsmom1 @damageditem let me know if anyone wants untagging, etc,… :) x

[aquamarinedaydreams]

Innovation and Modernization

Innovation is a buzzword. It reveals up in the pages of scholarly journals, popular magazines, and also global records; in advertisements as well as advertising slogans; and also on thousands of Web websites. At last matter, Amazon equipped more than 78,000 publications that reviewed Modernization. The Harvard Business Review has published numerous write-ups on technology innovation that an unique quantity was released on the theme in 2001. Innovation is an intricate term defining a complicated set of actions and end results. It’s about originalities, yet actual modernization entails a lot more than that. Defining technology innovation is a valuable exercise. Creating a shared vocabulary is a crucial action in reviewing, understanding, and also raising this powerful suggestion so that we start to comprehend technology as a process that can be replicated. Innovation and Modernization is partially about brand-new concepts. That’s only the thesaurus interpretation. A real technology is greater than an originality. It’s a pressure for modification. As Harvard Business School Professor Rosabeth Moss Kanter discusses: The ideal modernization can be mass created, adopted by customers in other settings, as well as sustained by extra financiers … new expertise as well as abilities will stem from tehnology innovation. Innovation and Modernization is likewise partly concerning creation. Creators have actually long been celebrated as brave characters. In the United States, innovators are considered quintessentially American. Books and gallery exhibits recount the tales of Thomas Edison, the Wright siblings, Eli Whitney, as well as the several modernizers whose breakthroughs have actually formed history and changed culture. Also our very own Information Age has actually spawned innovations in areas varying from technology to medicine to interactions, creating a new hall of heroes. The background of innovation often tends to illustrate creators as those who, with brilliant and determination, transform an originality right into a viable item.

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