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sachirobabe · 5 months ago

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Chapter 8

Kuroo Tetsurou x reader

Wc: 3202

Summary: You, a dedicated member of the girls' volleyball team, find an unexpected connection with Kuroo Tetsurou. Igniting a bond over shared passions and stolen moments, love blossoms on the court; all because you met him at a captains meeting.

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Taglist: @merlucide, @lemurzsquad , @02shuuu, @michakune , @ivy-taylorsversion , @scinclaitnoir , @v-e-r-t21 , @bakugouswaif , @siheez

"You sure you don't want to come with?" You sigh into your phone, currently on a call with Himari.

"Nuh uh, no way." You can imagine she's shaking her head quickly, "I'm not going to ruin your date." She squeals.

"We're doing homework." You say, but a part of you is a little nervous to go. You've hung out with him before, but for some reason you're finding yourself caring about what you wear to meet up with him.

"It's a start. Trust me, I'm so rooting for you both." She says happily. "Text me when you're home so we can debrief." She squeals again and hung up.

You frown at your phone and set it down, looking through your closet to find something to wear. Do you wear something comfortable? Cute? Causal? It was pretty warm, as it was later in may, heading to June and July.

You decide on a casual comfy outfit, seeing no wrong in it. You checked your appearance last minute and take a deep breath before waving to your parents goodbye.

As you walk to the agreed destination, you text him that you're on your way. He sees your message as he's sitting at a table, he's been waiting for you. He was so nervous that he left extra early.

The sun beamed down on you, making you sweat a little and in need of a drink. You enter the library and your eyes meet his, you're smiling. A bit too much as you catch yourself excited to do homework with him.

"Hey." You quietly say, "I hope you weren't waiting too long?"

He shook his head, "Not at all." He lied, there's no way he's telling you that he was an hour early. "I got you a drink..I figured since it's warm out you'd be thirsty—or you like to sip on something as you work." He nervously says.

You think it's cute that you can see a hint of pink on his cheeks, why? You're not so sure about that. You can't possibly be thinking he likes you like that, right?

"Thank you, that's so nice of you." You smile and take the iced drink, sipping on it and enjoy the flavor he bought you.

He nods and sips his own drink, trying to calm himself down. He almost chokes on his drink as he spots a few of his teammates in disguise behind a book shelf. He glares at them, specifically Yaku. He just knows this was his idea.

His eyes look at you quickly and is less tense as you haven't even noticed them. You're looking through your backpack and finding a few worksheets. He makes up an excuse that he's going to try and find a book.

You buy it and he gets up and walks quickly over to his teammates. "What the fuck are you guys doing here?!" He whispers, careful not to make too much noise or draw any unwanted attention.

Yaku, Yamamoto, and Lev all wore some shitty disguise. One that consisted of sunglasses and hats—which was stupid in Kuroo's opinion, who wears sunglasses inside?

"It was his idea." Yamamoto and Lev point accusatory fingers at Yaku.

"Oh fuck you guys." Yaku sighs.

"What're you guys doing?! What if she sees you?" Kuroo panicked.

"Relax. I just had to see you weren't lying." Yaku says and crosses his arms.

"Yaku said I could learn a thing or two by coming." Lev says, throwing the libero under the bus again.

"And why are you here?" Kuroo rolls his eyes at the other twos excuses.

"Someone has to be the responsible one." Yamamoto proudly says, but Kuroo was not buying it. None of them were capable of that right now. "Okay fine. Yaku said he'd buy me food."

"Dude?!" Yaku looks at him, "Well, now you're not getting it."

"I said this was a bad idea, for the record." Yamamoto says, as if that was going to make him look more innocent. "And you're still buying me food."

"Guys, please leave. If she sees you guys—in these shitty disguises, she won't want to hangout with me again." Kuroo whines, grasping at anything to get his teammates to leave.

"Bro, relax." Yaku says, "We won't get noticed."

"And what if I did this to you while you're with the girl you like?" Kuroo flips the situation onto him.

"Yaku can't get girls." Lev says and Yaku kicks him, Yamamoto held his mouth to not laugh loudly.

Kuroo's mind was filled with worry, he'd laugh at that joke later. "Yaku, I can't be embarrassed. I'm already nervous as is." He admits.

Yaku senses his captains worries and sighs, "Okay fine. We'll leave, but I just wanted to make sure you weren't lying. I can't stand the fact that you have a girlfriend before me." He glares.

"Oh god, thank you." Kuroo breathes out a huge breath of relief. "I've already taken too long, hurry up before she sees you." The three nod and Kuroo acts casual as he walks back up to the table.

"You didn't find your book?" You ask quietly and look up from your worksheet.

He looks at you confused, but then realizes that was the lie he told you. "Oh—yeah, no. Couldn't find it." He takes a long sip of his drink, watching his teammates pretend they're in an action movie as they leave the library.

The workers all looked at them like they were crazy. He's glad you didn't look behind you, otherwise he probably would've died from embarrassment.

Kuroo takes out his homework and works on it quietly in front of you. After a little you take a mental break, putting away two out of three papers into folders and into your bag.

"You look focused." You smile, he thinks his entire face is red as he feels you stare at him.

"Coach Mori assigns a lot of homework." He chuckles, "How's it going for you?

"Good, I just need to take a break." You say and stretch, "Otherwise I think my brain will explode."

"Oh, I'm sure you're okay." Kuroo laughs. "Miss smarty pants." He teases.

You playfully rolled your eyes, "Ha ha. Very funny."

"You think I'm lyin'?" He quirks an eyebrow, his homework long forgotten about.

You shake your head and chuckle quietly, wary of others studying nearby. "I know I'm smart, way smarter than you." You tease a little, finding the small banter amusing.

He laughs a little too loud and gets a look from the librarian, he smiles widely at you and the two of you quietly chuckle. "You're going to get us kicked out." He says quietly.

"Me? You're the one who laughs loud." You shake your head.

He wants to tell you that he laughs loud like this when he's with you, nobody else can make him feel this way. But, he's taking baby steps right now, he can barely ask you to hangout without turning bright red.

"Hey, you wanna get out of here?" He speaks up after a few seconds.

You raise an eyebrow at him, "I thought we were supposed to be studious?" Your actions are the opposite of your words as you begin putting away your things.

He grins and throws his things into his bag, he stands up and pushes his chair in, waiting for you to finish up and follow him.

"Where are we going?" You ask, finally not having to keep your voice down.

He thinks for a moment, walking beside you. "Do you like ice cream?"

"Of course." You nod and smile.

"I know a place." He says and leads the way, "Kenma and I have been going here since we were kids."

"Himari and I have a spot like that too." You say, keeping up with his long legs.

"Yeah?" He says interested, "What is it?"

"Bowling." You chuckle, "You know that old place deeper in town?"

He hums, "Yeah, haven't been there since I was little. It's still running?"

"Himari and I practically keep the place going." Your laugh was beautiful to him, he needs to hear more of it. "Last time we went was for her birthday, right before school started."

"So, does that mean you're like a pro?" He smiles, thinking he could potentially beat you.

"I'm not bad, but definitely not the best." You see the competitive glint in his eyes, "We mostly go for the curly fries and milkshakes."

He shakes his head softly, "I found the ice cream place the first time I asked Kenma to play volleyball with me." He smiles at the memory, "I practically forced him, so I offered to buy him a cone if he played with me."

"So you bribed him into playing volleyball?" You raised an eyebrow at him and he chuckles.

"I guess so. I would ask him to play a lot, so he and I quickly became regulars at the shop." His eyes leave yours momentarily as he opens the shop door for you.

You thank him, the bell ringing and an older woman looks up from her magazine. "Is that you, Tetsurou?" She pushes up her glasses and smiles warmly at him.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Yuki." Kuroo smiles back at her.

"My oh my, you've grown." She chuckles and closes her magazine.

"Maybe just a little." He chuckles and scratches his neck, "but it's only been 2 weeks."

"2 weeks too long, dear." She says and finally takes notice of you, "And you've even brought your girlfriend, how cute." She claps her hands together.

You think your heart just stopped beating for a second, your mouth opens to deny or say anything, but a part of you kind of liked it.

Kuroo felt his face heat up, he had been telling her about his struggles to talk to you for years. "Oh, we're just—"

"What can I get you two?" She interrupts him, liking the way he blushes at you.

"Don't—uh don't mind her." Kuroo turns to you, "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. It's okay." You chuckle, noticing how his face was more pink than normal. "I've never been here before, what would you recommend?" You ask and walk closer to Mrs. Yuki.

"Well, all of our ice cream is homemade." She smiles warmly, she can see why Kuroo had taken a liking to you. "I'd be happy to let you sample any flavors you'd like."

You smile widely at and thank her. You take a few minutes to read the labels on the tubs, you tried a few flavors. They were all delicious, her ice cream was nothing you've ever tasted before.

"I'll do a scoop of strawberry, please." You say and throw away the little spoon of the sample. She nods and takes her scooper, she gets a heavy ball and puts it in a waffle cone.

You grab it and wait for Kuroo to order, wanting to treat him.

"I'll do my usual scoop of matcha." He tells her, his face is still pink from earlier. She goes to put it in the register, you weren't given a chance to go up because he beat you to it.

"Hey!" You protest, "I said—"

"Too slow." He grins and pays for both of your treats.

"I said next time was on me. Let me pay you back." You go to reach for your wallet and he stops you and shakes his head.

"I invited you here." He smiles, your breath is caught in your throat at his smile, you've always known he was cute, but this was different. He was more than cute.

"Fine, but next time—"

"Eat your ice cream." He says and bumps your elbow on purpose, making your ice cream smudge onto your lips. He laughs, knowing exactly what he did. Mrs. Yuki hands him a napkin and he hands it to you.

"You're so funny, Kuroo Tetsurou." You playfully glare at him and wipe your mouth.

"You kids enjoy." Mrs. Yuki smiles, she can feel her face hurt from watching the two of you. She's happy to see Kuroo so happy.

Kuroo continues to laugh as he leads you outside to the tables. "Eat your ice cream." You do the same thing to him, he licks his lips and smiles.

"How mean." He says and wipes his face as well with his own napkin.

"You did it first!" You laugh and eat your ice cream, watching the green leave his face and onto his napkin.

"It's good, right?" Kuroo asks, seeing your eyes light up at the treat.

"Way too good." You chuckle, "I won't be able to eat store bought ice cream anymore."

"Welcome to my world." He laughs. "She's practically my second mom." He says, looking inside the shop for a moment.

"She's very sweet." You nod, "How long has she worked here for?"

"Her whole life, I think." Kuroo says, "Her father bought the store for her when she was young."

"It's a cute shop. I can't believe I've never came here before." You bit into your waffle cone.

"Yeah, I help her out from time to time." His tongue savors the flavor he got, "She needs help moving her batches sometimes."

"That's nice of you," You smile. "Thank you, by the way. For the ice cream."

He shakes his head, "No problem."

"But for real. Next time is on me." You warn him with a finger pointing at him and he only grins. Already knowing that would never happen, but he goes along with it for now.

You sit for hours there just talking to him, he made you smile a lot. You're trying so hard to keep your mind straight and focused on prelims, but being out with him was just so much fun.

It wouldn't hurt to keep this going, would it? You're still focused during practices and games, that's not changing.

Kuroo looks at his phone for the time and sighs, "It's getting a little late." He notices the sun setting, he looks at your features, appreciating how well the sun hit you right now. He almost wants to sneak a picture, but he doesn't want to seem creepy, he just wishes he could capture this moment forever.

"Yeah, we should start heading back." You say and throw away your napkin.

"I'll walk 'ya." He offered.

"You sure? I swear I thought your house was in the opposite direction." You say.

"Nonsense. I'll just take the long way." He chuckles and you give in, it was hard not to, especially since you didn't want it to end. "Don't want you to get kidnapped." He jokes.

You rolled your eyes, "I'd come back to haunt you."

"Oh, I'm honored." He laughs. "I had a lot of fun with you." He side eyes you for a reaction, you're smiling when he finishes his sentence and that's a win in his book.

"I did too." You say truthfully, you didn't even want to go home. "Who knew? That the nekoma boys volleyball captain was kinda cool?"

"Just kinda cool?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Don't push it." You joke and he laughs along. "I wasn't able to get very close with the other captains, so I'm really happy I got to know you more, Kuroo."

"Tetsurou. You can call me Tetsurou." His face gets hot.

You nod, "Tetsurou." He almost falls to the floor as a pile of putty after hearing his name leave your lips. "Today was fun." You say again, getting his attention, he was still smiling widely.

"We should do this again—if you want to of course, I-I don't want to force you unless you were just being nice—"

"I'd like that." You smile, cutting off his rambling and he lets out a grateful sigh.

"Great. Sounds good." He chuckles, telling himself to calm down.

"Actually..my parents leave tomorrow for a work trip," You gained a little more confidence to ask him to hang out, "And I have this cookie recipe I've been wanting to try, if you'd like to come over and bake with me?"

He feels his heart thump loudly against his chest, he's elated that you're the one who asked him to hang out again. He didn't want to feel like he was being too pushy or persistent. "I'd like that." His face hurts from how hard he's smiled all day with you.

"Great, so again tomorrow? At like noon?" You ask to confirm, looking at your house.

"Yeah, I'll be here." He nods. "Have a good rest of your night, Y/n."

"You too, Tetsurou." You give him a small wave and he thinks you look adorable. Once you're inside your room you're fumbling for your phone to call Himari to come over asap.

"Yeah? Wait—woah, slow down, slow down." Himari laughs on the other end.

"Wait! Don't go yet, he's walking past your house right now." You say as you look out your bedroom window. "Okay okay, come now." You say after he rounds the corner and off to his house.

Himari greets your parents as she walks by, seeing them pack up their car. She runs to your room and barges through the door. "Spill." She smiles ecstatically.

You go on about how you did homework at the library and then got ice cream, basically just giving her the rundown. "And then, I asked him to come over tomorrow after my parents leave to bake cookies." You finish, hiding your face.

"No. Way. You, Y/n L/n, invited a cute boy over." Her jaw drops, before all of this you hadn't been super boy crazy, you had two boyfriends before, but it obviously didn't go on for more than a couple of months.

"I know! I don't know why I did it." You say uncontrollably smiling.

"You like him. You so do." Himari grins, "Don't give me that bullshit about how you don't." She raises her palm to your face.

"I don't." You deny, but you can't stop thinking about him. He gave you butterflies. "We are just friends."

"Wait till Mori hears this now." Himari laughs, "She's going to have a talk with you.”

You groan, "No. She won't. Because this isn't going anywhere."

"Then why are you so excited to tell me about what happened? And why you invited him over?" She catches you in a lie.

You frown and didn't answer her for a minute, "So what? This'll probably fizzle out and go away in a few weeks."

Himari raises an eyebrow, "Sure." She pretends to go along with it. The rest of the night, you and Himari spent the night together, watching shows and eating popcorn.

Kuroo had the dopiest smile on his face as he got home, he can't even say in words how happy and excited he is. He calls Kenma and yaps for an hour about you.

Kenma doesn't even acknowledge his babbling, he focuses on his pc as he games, but he can't help his curious mind about how you've gotten his best friend smitten for almost three years. It brings a small smile to his face, this means Kuroo will leave him alone so he can game more.

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megabuild · 1 year ago

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would you be down to summarize the podcast ep briefly ?<-guy who sucks at podcasts

i had clipped some stuff for the first part already so i'll add them in!

bdubs cites steve carrell as an early inspo, because the office was popular at the time he started making videos; he also talks about watching looney tunes as a kid and says his delivery as a character is similar to daffy duck

(impulse also cites bdubs as an inspo of his own, goes as far as to say he mimicked him in some early videos)

skizz talks about bdubs' delivery and acting being part of the reason people assume the life series is scripted. they also have a nice acknowledgement of the problems that come with planning and scripting.

bdubs mentions seananners, coestar and his brother pungence as some of the first people he saw playing minecraft.

impulse say that in bdubs' first video he promises to become one of the best minecraft builders there is. bdubs gets very humble and mentions again that he's not good with compliments.

bdubs says he draws now but before minecraft had basically no creative talent, outside of music, which he had to work hard at. skizz goes on an insane tangent about his high school girlfriend drawing a pointillism piece of a lion that seamlessly transitioned into sean connery halfway across the page. i had to rewind this part a few times because i kept losing track of what the fuck he was talking about

bdubs initially kept being a youtuber a secret from his wife, who he was still dating at the time, and planned to give it up when he got married and become a contractor full time. however, when he told her about it, she encouraged him and was the person who suggested he take it full time; bdubs himself says that since it was a family business, he would never had given it up without her encouragement.

impulse talks about meeting the mindcrackers as a fan, and how bdubs took the time to speak properly to every kid at his table and give them autographs, to the point where the building actually closed up and he still had people waiting- so he took them all out and did more autographs and meets in the parking lot

they talk about beau the trucker, his streamer persona, and how that came about (it was generikb's idea). bdubs said part of the reason he switched to streaming at that time was because content creation is a 24/7 job and it was putting strain onto his wife who was struggling to take care of their two children. i can't really summarise this well as it's a personal anecdote but it begins at about 38 minutes in. he also mentioned he was very nervous about singing on stream.

this leads into them talking about the "dark moments" and valleys in the career of a youtuber, where bdubs discusses the death of his daughter ivy rose; again, i don't feel comfortable summarising this, but it's a very touching discussion of how he couldn't imagine making content again but decided he didn't want people to associate her with him not making videos anymore. it starts at around 52 minutes in.

that brings them up to him coming back to hermitcraft season 6, where the video ends! bdubs promises to talk about his onlyfans in the next episode.

#wasp #asks #child death #< very briefly mentioned #sorry you said brief. but i have autism

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fedorah-the-explorah · 1 year ago

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fan fiction ideaaaaaaaaaa! ❤️

Shadowsan has to trust chief with his life during a caper, and Carmen knows that it’s like the only way to save some sort of artifact or something like that, but she doesn’t trust chief whatsoever, due to the trauma that cheif did kill Carmen’s biological father, so Carm is like super scared and worried for Dadowsan.

I just thought it was a good idea, something that could be used later on for you, but it’s like your choice if you actually want chief to make a mistake and then something happens to shadowsan, and then Carmen is like super pissed…….like dangerously pissed………but it’s totally up to you if you want to make it a happy ending or a sad ending lol 😘😘😘

your amazing and tysm for all you do for this fandom, your pretty awesome and I see ur stuff all the time, you are a writing genius pretty much lolll ❤️

Omg stop it, I'll cry right now-- that was such a kind thing to say about my writing. It really made my day ❤️

Anyways, here ya go! It's not very long and I'm not sure it's quite what you had in mind, but I'm happy with it. This takes place post series.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was a light stepper, but that's never meant much to him. He raised her from infancy; he knew her presence well.

"Are you going to lurk there all day," he asked, "Or are you going to say hello?"

He turned around, abandoning the task of polishing his newly--and legally-- acquired swords. Carmen glanced at him wordlessly, contributing nothing. She was sullen as stared down at the hotel room's desk, absently running her fingers along the surface. Her lips were slightly pursed and her eyebrows were drawn. He recognized the look well, and seeing it, he may as well have been picked up by the scruff and placed back in time twelve years.

Black Sheep had never been much of a reticent child, but when she wanted something she knew they wouldn't allow, she took her time to work up the will to ask. She would become silent and broody, and Shadowsan always found it amusing how transparent children could be.

"Is there something you want?"

She glared down at the desk, fingers drawing still. He folded his hands behind his back as he waited on her.

"...Let me come with you." She said.

"No."

"Shadowsan."

"You are in no condition," He said, nodding to her arm in a cast. "How did that even happen?"

"I don't want to talk about it." She muttered.

He hummed and made a mental note to ask Player about it later.

"I thought you were out of the game," She said, "What changed?"

He looked at her, eyebrows raised. "I could ask the same of you. Why are you here, Carmen?"

She snorted. "I'm only partly retired. You know I can't sit still."

He considered this. He nodded.

"Point."

"Why are you doing this, Shadowsan? What happened to living a normal life?"

"This operation hits close to home. Various museums around the country have been the targets of often violent robberies. ACME Intel indicates that Matsumoto could be next."

"'Could be,' huh? Give me and Player two hours and we'll get you definite answers."

He frowned at her, eyes narrowing.

"What is this about, child?"

"I'm not a child." She muttered.

He rolled his eyes. "Forgive an old man for his habits."

She turned away from him.

"Carmen."

She stared at the floor, shoulders held stiffly with tension.

He pressed again. "What is bothering you?"

She huffed. "It's just..."

She trailed off, her fists clenching as she spun back around.

"...Why do you have to work with her?!"

He blinked, somewhat taken aback. That's what this was about? She'd come all the way to Japan just to plead with him against working with ACME's chief...? He thought her issue with the Chief had been long resolved, was there something he was missing?

"I mean, what's it even about? Chief doesn't do field work! That's weird! And why couldn't you have partnered with literally anyone else? Fuck! You, Zack, and Ivy have tons of experience working together. You could have worked with Jules, or Devineaux, or even Zari! I don't trust it."

He grunted. "I would not work with that French idiot even if my life depended on it."

"Why her?"

He hummed. "I imagine it has to do with me being ex-VILE. It would make sense if she wanted to make sure of my allegiances herself."

"That's ridiculous. She has both Zack and Ivy's word. If she trusts them then she should trust you."

"ACME's chief is a cautious woman."

"Oh, really. Wasn't very cautious of her when she pulled a gun on my father."

Oh.

Okay. He understood now.

"Are you worried she's going to..?"

She hugged herself, suddenly looking very unsure of herself.

"No... Yes. Maybe... I don't know. Just let me come with you..?"

He sighed heavily and approached her. He put a hand on her shoulder and waited for her to look at him.

"I will be fine," He assured her, "I've been in and out of this game for a long time. Even if she does try anything-- which I know she won't-- I am perfectly capable of defending myself."

"I know, but--"

"--Have you been doing okay?"

"...What?"

"Have you been doing okay? You know I am happy to have you here, but I must admit that I'm worried about you. You flew all the way here, and for what? To accuse a woman you yourself have worked with of plotting something insidious? It's uncharitable, and I hate to say it, but incredibly irrational."

She pulled away from him.

"I'm fine." She insisted, "God, you and Player sound exactly alike."

"Player is an intelligent young man."

She rolled her eyes. "Alright, fine, whatever. Maybe I'm being unfair, but you'll have to excuse me if I trust a little less after all the shit I've been through."

She swallowed harshly and swiped at her eyes. He watched her silently, a dull ache in his throat and a stabbing desire in his heart to vanish anything that troubled her.

"Perhaps I should move closer to you, I--"

"What? No. Shadowsan, that's-- No. You're finally back with your brother, you don't have to--"

"--I don't have a responsibility to Hideo, Carmen. You're like a daughter to me, and if you're struggling--"

"--I'm not struggling."

"It's okay if you are."

"Well, I'm not. And it's fine. I have Player. You don't have to uproot your entire life for me."

He smiled ruefully. Of course she wouldn't understand, it wasn't her job to.

Back in the beginning, years and years ago, he'd never been one to care much about anything. Life had not been kind to him, and so he was not kind to others. But it was in those early days, the first few sleepless nights before the nannies showed up, that he found himself actually concerned about somebody else. Holding the child, wishing desperately that she would just go the fuck to sleep, he came to reckon with his role in her life. He had, completely and irrevocably, changed the course of her entire life. She was his responsibility, and it wasn't about him anymore. Anything he'd ever do would have to be for her. This was the burden he shouldered.

(he'd choose this burden time and time again.)

"I uprooted your entire life, are you sure you don't want to return the favor?"

She snorted, a small smile that she tried to fight gracing her lips.

"I want you to reconnect with your brother."

"And I want to make sure you're happy."

"I am happy, Shadowsan. I just... have a lot going on." Her voice sort of hitched at the end, and ouch. It pained him to see her like this.

She shuffled closer to him and he recognized the action for what it was. Even as a child, she could never bring herself to ask for affection. She'd just kind of follow you around and stare up at you and wait until you got the message. The other three never quite caught on-- or, they did, and they opted to ignore her. Then there was Coach Brunt, and that was just... Ugh.

Understanding her need, he took her and held her close. She threw her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder.

"I've just been so... weird lately."

"It's understandable after all you've been through."

"I can barely relax."

He had no good response to that. He pet her hair instead.

"I don't want to lose you."

"I know."

"...I um. You know that I love you, right?"

He smiled softly, quiet content spreading warm in his chest. He kissed the crown of her head.

"I know. I love you too."o

#carmen sandiego 2019 #carmen sandiego netflix #carmen sandiego #shadowsan #dadowsan #carmen sandiego fanfic #she broke her arm by falling off a roof to get a frisbee for one of the kids #she got distracted by another kid trying to climb onto the roof and whoopsie dasies #someone learned a valuable lesson about not doing stupid shit in front of children #but also now the kids know not to climb on the fucking roof lmao #okay i said i was happy with it but then i reread it and #blehhhh #not my best work but yolo #my tumblr exclusives are just like that #'s what happens when you write something in one sitting

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ijustkindalikebooks · 8 months ago

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This month has been so stressful, the last two weeks has been so ugh and books have been an escape (and if you're disabled and live in the UK, we are treated terribly in a system that makes you seem like a bad person for being unable to do things, things you probably would want to do and it sucks). My anxiety has been out of control so finding places to go in books has been a rescue this month.

This month I've read 38 books that cover novels, poetry, manga and novellas finally that really have given me new places for my mind to wander and ways to keep me up that aren't 'oh my god what if the government hates me?' - Enjoy the reviews.

Blue Exorcist Vol. 9 & 11 by Kazue Kato - A manga i've been trying to keep up with so much more recently, Blue Exorcist tells the story of Rin who finds out he is the son of Satan when his father figure gets murdered by his father, leading him to New Cross Academy, a school for exorcists. Volume 9 is the end of the first ARC and I feel 11 is the beginning of the next one as we see Rin have growth in his powers and then really becoming part of a team. Konekamaru is one of my favourite characters and has so much growth in 11, and I just really loved reading this, this month. I highly recommend it.

Orange & Pink Sunset by Ivy L James - You can find a review of this book on my blog, so I won't dwell on writing too much on this however I really enjoyed this collection. There's a real sensuality and a deep feeling to this collection that makes for lovely reading and I want to read from this author. Highly recommend looking it up and taking in some of James' work.

The Apothecary Diaries Vol. 2 by Natsu Hyuuga & Nekukurage - Another fantastic manga series (but also manwha) The Apothecary Diaries follows Maomao as she becomes part of the King's Court with her impressive ability to make medicines and aphrodisiacs. It's a hyped series and for a reason with fantastic characters, fast plots and an art style that I wish I could emulate (I wish I could draw so bad, and yes I know practice). I am currently waiting for number three to be available at my library and I can't wait to continue with this series.

As Long As The Lemon Trees Grow by Zoulfa Katouh- A beautiful story about the decisions we make in horrific situations, this book tells the story of Salama as she figures out her life, love and health in war-torn Syria. If you want to be emotionally devastated, this is the book for you, incredibly written with turns that leave you breathless and ending that leaves you dropping back on your bed emotionally spent, I'm slightly concerned for all the friends who made me read this book to be honest.

Enter Ghost by Isabel Hammad - Set in Palestine as we follow Sonia as she returns to her family after a painful romantic dalliance, Enter Ghost sees her find herself again thanks to a performance of Shakespeare. Beautifull written and crafted from beginning to end, Enter Ghost gives you a new perspective on how we react to the world we live and what it means to be under regimes where one life holds more value than others by power of passport. A timely novel that I'd recommend to everyone right now.

What have you been reading this month? I always loved to hear what you're reading.

I hope you had an enchanting April and your May is wonderful!

Vee xo.

#booklr #books #bookblr #fiction #managa #literary fiction #young adult #book reviews #book review #reading #books and reading

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zelcii · 5 months ago

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№1 SWITCHED: THE IVY 5.6K WORDS

cw; tmr, gay-ness (clint and jeff), female oc, the maze runner, long shit, disgustingly detailed, probably boring, no lovey-lovey yet, NOT PROOFREAD, a mix of book-canon/movie-canon/claire-canon elements, cursing, kinda slow-paced

sum; The Maze could be cold and unforgiving, but she can't help but heed a calling that speaks to her from within. It draws her in with a whisper of hope and determination, urging her to confront the darkness and uncover the secrets buried in its depths.

a/n; this is shittier than my first draft, i fear. but ive really been procrastinating writing this after i lost the first one. what to do. this one did end up being around 1.6K words longer than the first so, ur welcs. if theres anything u guys want me to clear up from my interpretation, i can post an faq after theres enough questions. sorry for the slow slow slow pace but u can expect even slower updates—i am so sorry—since school is starting. watch me priotitise whatever this is and not write anything else for months :)))

Contents, Next

Steady, metallic clangs echoed down the long concrete tunnel, almost like the drumbeat of a death march.

The girl lay with her knees against her chest, eyes shut tight, willing herself to ‘wake up’ because she had to be in some horrible dream. She woke up roughly fifteen minutes ago, gasping for air as she coughed out cool water from her lungs with pressing urgency. The water, a remnant of some nightmarish ordeal she had no memory of.

For a while, her blood ran cold. Her heart pounding in her chest, her breaths quick and shallow, as if she'd ran a mile. Her bones felt hollow and brittle as she stretched herself out on the floor.

Darkness swallowed her whole. Whether her eyes were open or closed made no difference and all she could see was black. She could feel the void against her skin, seeping into her and making a home deep in her stomach.

It was silent except for the roll of wheels beneath her and the scrape of metal above. The air was thick. The smell of rusted iron stung her nose, making it scrunch it up. Then confusion set in. She realised she couldn't feel the crinkle of her nose or the furrow of her eyebrows. In fact, she couldn't even feel the tight grip of her hands against her arms.

"Nick..?" Her voice trailed off as she called out into the dark. The name echoed off the tunnel walls, growing softer and more distant as it travelled further away, until it faded into silence. The word slipped past her lips with a tender familiarity, even though she couldn't recall ever knowing anyone named Nick. “Help…” She waited for a response. None came.

For a moment, she felt cold and numb, a chilling sensation that seemed to seep into her very bones. She instinctively brought her hands up to rub warmth onto her arms, but as her fingers brushed against her skin, she realised she couldn't feel the contact either. The familiar texture of her own touch was absent, making her blood run cold.

It was as if a thin barrier existed between her fingers and her skin, preventing any sensation from passing through. The strange numbness made her feel more alone in the darkness, making her question if she was really even there at all.

Then her mind went blank, a whirlpool of confusion and disorientation sweeping away any rational thoughts that could have cleared her head. She sat with a vacant look in her eyes, trying to make sense of her surroundings as she called out every now and then.

The cold, dark silence pressed in. She was scared. Isolated. Lost.

The darkness felt alive, closing in around her, suffocating and cold. Her breath quickened, echoing unnaturally in the void. Every time she tried to call out, her voice would yell back at her before getting swallowed by the emptiness.

“Hello?” she whispered, her voice trembling. The response was again nothing but the eerie quiet, pressing down like a weight on her chest. Her heart beat louder, each jump a desperate drum against the invasive silence.

“Please…” she murmured, her voice breaking. The plea felt hollow and helpless. The shadows creeped in on her in ways that made her skin crawl, their shapes twisting, morphing, moving. She rubbed her arms, trying to stave off the creeping chill, but it was once again useless. The cold seeped into her bones, gnawing away at her sanity.

“Nick…?” she called out one last time, her breaths shaking. There was no answer, no reassuring voice or warm presence to comfort her. She was utterly alone. Panic began to bubble up, her mind flooding with fraughtful, disturbing thoughts. Where was she? Why couldn’t she remember anything? What the fuck was going on? The questions swirled around her head, a chaotic storm that she couldn't escape.

In a desperate attempt to feel something—anything—she raised her trembling hand to her mouth and bit down hard on her thumb.

She awaited a sharp sting. She felt nothing.

“What the fuck…” Panic surged through her as she heard the unsettling crunch of bone, flesh, and nail between her teeth. She bit down even harder, desperate to break through the numbness, but it was in vain.

Overwhelmed, she stumbled backward into a wooden mass, whimpering as she cradled her hand with her tears streaming down her face.

Slowly, she noticed a warm, sticky feeling spreading down her hand. “Oh, shit.” She hissed.

First, she felt her blood running down her hand. Then a sharp pain shot through her arm, eliciting from her a strained, painful moan.

She could imagine the blood trickling from her thumb, flowing down her arm, and staining her skin before pooling in her palm. The image was both horrifying and surreal—she knew she should've been frightened or appalled, but all she felt was a strange emptiness. Her fear grew deeper.

She curled into herself, cradling her injured thumb as she cried out a series of curses.

The pain in her thumb never subsided, though her senses slowly returned, starting from her hands and spreading to the tips of her ears in curious waves.

Her lungs itched from within, a sensation no amount of coughing could relieve. Then an ache began to throb at the back of her head. She could feel the sting of meshed metal digging into her sides and biting into her skin.

It reminded her of the sting she'd feel sitting in a grocery cart, wheels rolling beneath her as her mother pushed her down long, endless aisles. The memory was a comforting thought, the gentle roll of the wheels beneath her were now similar and reassuring. But that comfort quickly faded as she tried to recall details about her mother, and her family, and what she looked like. She shivered when her mind could only flood with blank faces, devoid of features.

Overall, she felt disturbingly incomplete. A sensation eerily similar to the one you’d feel after getting robbed.

The last thing to fill her senses was the soft cluck of chickens from a nearby corner. Fear churned in her empty stomach, feuling her doubts and resentment. She had no recollection of anything before the rust, the darkness, and the persistent pain in her arm, leaving her with a deep sense of disconnection and cruel emptiness.

The girl woke up feeling damp, her hair sticking to her skin with water lodged in her throat. She was in a cage, moving slowly down a long corridor. The sound of harsh metal grated in her ears, echoing like a tram inching along tracks in the midst of a bustling city.

As the cage came to a sudden stop, a dim light filtered into her space. Faint glimmers danced over her surroundings. She was lured into a cold vent that led to even colder heights. She forced herself to look down, counting the inches to measure her rise. The floor faded into the darkness, eventually disappearing from sight. In a moment of desperation, she spat out and listened, waiting for the sound of the splat.

1…

2…

3…

The fall was far.

She sat paralyzed in the middle of the cage. Her hands kept to herself, hugging herself in the dark, afraid that if she let her arms stray too far, she'd end up losing them. The tip of her nose was cold and the clothes against her skin were heavy. Nothing but the clucking of chickens and the pain in her hand to keep her company.

In the dim light, she scanned her surroundings and spotted dozens of boxes and barrels encircling her. Each one was labelled with the letters W, I, C, K, E, and D.

Above her, bright red lights flickered ominously, casting a taunting glow. Below her, she was too scared to look.

For what felt like hours, she sat in the rising cage, alone with her thoughts.

“Please let this be a dream…” As she racked her mind for any kind of explanation, she made a list though she could only recall what had already happened just moments ago. She was cold, she was alone, she was scared. But who was she?

A sudden jolt of the cage made her gasp, and she tightened her grip on herself, sending a sharp pang up her arm. The girl winced.

The sound of metal ticking and rattling sent a chill through her spine. Though she knew she was alone, she couldn't shake the creeping feeling that something was watching her from behind. Finding a way out of the cage quickly became more important than curling up pathetically on the floor.

She mustered up all her strength to stand. Her knees wobbled, and a rush of blood blurred and blackened her vision before she could see again. She stumbled around in the limited space, moving unsteadily toward a corner of crates. She picked one up, careful to avoid her injured thumb, though her blood stained the wood as she touched it. She shook it gently, listening for the contents. The only sound was the rattle of small beads shifting around inside—nothing that could help her.

Regardless, she pried at the lid, her thin nails clawed desperately at the wood in a weak attempt to throw it open.

“Shit,” she breathed, the sound of fast whirring gears and the loud sway of the cage daring her to continue, echoing off the walls and breathing cold whispers behind her ears. Bright lights washed over her in nearly blinding rings as they passed. The force of the cage's ascent felt heavy on the soles of her feet. The girl's eyes began to water. She let out defeated huffs.

When she finally managed to pry the lid open, she found an assortment of seed packets, gardening gloves, and a sharp, iron hand trowel wedged between mismatched rags.

Then the cage halted to a stop. Now those cold, red lights stared directly above her in front of large, metal walls. The whirling of gears was replaced with the whirling of sirens, and the crates and barrels—along with the girl—jumped at the jolt of the cage, willing her to lose balance and fall flat on her back. Quickly, backed away from the wooden boxes, leaving a trail of red in her wake.

A whine escaped her tightly pressed lips. Her eyes welled up, and she trembled.

“Oh, fuck fuck fuck…” The tightness in her chest made her feel as if the air had thickened, and the sting behind her eyes made her feel like she was on the verge of exploding.

Panicked and distraught, she glanced over at the cloth draped over the chickens' cage. Her eyes darted between the fabric and a cluster of steel barrels. As a last-ditch resort, the girl yanked the cloth free and carried it over to the barrels. A few chickens followed, clambering out to join her. Their cage was open, but of course, hers remained locked shut.

Frantically, she shoved a few barrels around and huddled behind them in a corner. “C’mon, c'mon…” She draped the large cloth over herself and the containers, creating a makeshift hideaway to shield herself from the doors above her.

The menacing glare of the red lights suddenly flashed green, seeping through the thin walls of her makeshift hideaway. It seemed to follow her wherever she went. Her joints ached as the stress of the hour, her muscles tense, and her heart calling out desperately for her mother.

Her mind ran rampant with a variety of worst-case scenarios, imagining every horrible thing that could have been waiting for her behind the large metal doors. She grew anxious at the though of what terrible things might happen if she were to be found out. The girl hugged the hand trowel close to her chest and kept her eyes shut. She felt a cold sweat on her skin. Her mouth ran dry.

The doors above her began to creak open.

Through the cracks between the barrels, she watched warm rays of raw daylight flood into the cage before being blocked by a crowd of antsy shadows. Soft murmurs drifted down, mingling with the scattered clucks of the chickens.

She listened as a few voices started shouting, their tones laced with confusion. They were expecting her.

Crouching with her head between her knees, she repeatedly begged in her mind for the crowd to leave. She prayed for the doors to close and for the elevator to take her back down to solid ground.

“Day one, Greenie!" A boy yelled excitedly to nobody in particular, "Rise and shine!"

The cage shook as two boys jumped in with her. She swallowed hard, her eyes widening in fear. Her heart froze when she realised they would start looking for her. If she could sink into her skin, she would have, but there was nowhere to hide now.

"You've far too much energy considering we've been at this for a while," Another poked, smiling up at the other.

"And we've gotta do this quick if we wanna have a bonfire, right?" The first boy said in a near whine. "Come on out, Greenie. Let's get you out of here."

The two chatted with each other as they looked around the cage, yelling occasionally at the others above them. One of the boys—the second to jump in—spoke with an accent. There was a twist in his words that the girl couldn't quite place. He was also quite tall.

The boy with the accent ran his hands through his tousled blond hair as he spotted a bloodied box with its lid off. He wore long, baggy pants that hung low on his hips, paired with dusty white shoes that seemed to have seen better days.

He called the first boy over. He looked familiar to the girl, but not familiar enough to feel comfortable around him. This boy’s shoes were stained deeply with grass and soil. His dark hair was cut short and dishevelled, fanning over his vivid green eyes. They held a look of mischief and curiosity.

Her gut churned and her heart beat out of her chest. Every sound around her seemed louder than usual. Each creak under heavy steps or rustle of dirty feathers sending a jolt of pain and panic through her. Her breath came in shallow, rapid gasps though she tried to stay as quiet as possible. She was terrified that any noise would end up giving her away.

"D'ya see anythin', Nickkk?" a boy called out, his tone loud and bored. The sound of the name made the girl's face scrunch up in confusion, her lips pursed, feeling uneasy. Nick was the name she had called out earlier in the darkness, a name that had felt familiar for reasons she still couldn't grasp. It unsettled her.

"Nope." Nick bent down to pick up a hen, tucking it under his arm before handing it off to another boy that he called Gally.

Then suddenly, the blond cursed under his breath. As he reached down for another box or a hen, his eyes caught sight of a staggerd trail of red leading to a corner stacked with barrels. Her heart sank as her wide-eyed gaze met his warm brown eyes. She quickly pressed her hands against her mouth as her eyes widened, stifling a wince as a sharp pain shot up her arm. The blond looked up at Nick before turning his attention back to the barrels.

Her fear had set in as she sat in deep silence, pleading with the boy to turn around and leave her alone. The blond's eyes narrowed as he scanned the area, suspicious but unsure. He hesitated, sensing something amiss. Deciding not to let it go, he unknowingly held her gaze.

“Hey, Greenie? Are y'alright there?” The blond boy spoke soft and slow, inching closer to her hideaway. He called out, whispering. “Nick, look at this…” He pointed down at the trail he'd noticed and the girl held her breath.

Nick, who had been watching the scene with growing curiosity, uncrossed his arms and approached.

If she hadn't known better, she would've chosen to lash out. She would've grabbed her sorry excuse of a weapon and fought the boys before her. It felt like a heavy weight was pressing down on her shoulders, making it hard to breathe. Tears welled up behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. The stress was suffocating, and being unable to relieve it left her feeling utterly helpless.

"Are– are you hurt?" The blond's voice was soft as he spoke. Worry was evident in his eyes when the Greenie didn't respond. "I'm Newt, you're safe here," he assured. The girl refused to believe him.

"Hey, it's alright, we aren't gonna hurt ya," Nick said. His hands rose in mock surrender. Newt caught this and rolled his eyes, slipping out a sly remark, calling him stupid. Nick ignored him. He spoke loud and slow, enunciating every vowel sound as if the girl was a wild animal. "My name is Niiiickkkk. A-aand this, is Newwtttt. Whaaat is yooouuurrr naaame?”

Newt hit him upside the head.

They couldn't see much behind the barrels, but they spoke to her as if they could. It made it hard for the girl to swallow. She gripped the trowel tightened. What made it worse were the taunting comments from the other boys outside.

"Is he scared or something?"

"Maybe he needs some encouragement?"

"Dude, that's like, blood."

"No shit, shank."

“Talk about chicken, hahahaha… okay, fuck you guys too."

Newt froze for a moment. He looked down at his feet, behind the rusted mesh wires, then he looked at Nick, nudging his head towards the boys above. Nick rolled his eyes and stood up. He told the boys to get back to work, dismissing anyone who whined or protested against him.

The girl watched them and wondered why they assumed that she was a ‘he’. She didn't feel like a ‘he’. She looked down at herself then back up at the boys. ‘Definitely not a 'he'…’ she thought.

With the boys gone, Newt asked, "Is that better?"

The girl nodded, thinking he could see her, given the space between barrels. From the other side of the barrels, they could tell that the 'boy' was quite young, with unusually long brown hair and a round face. 'He' looked to be no older than fifteen, a year younger than both Newt and Nick.

Newt offered her a soft smile, though she could see the hesitation in his eyes. His gaze briefly flickered towards the blood on the floor and then back to her, causing his smile to waver.

Each time they asked, the girl refused to come out. So, for what felt like an hour, Nick sat in front of her with his legs crossed like a kindergartener, grinning widely as he talked about a place called 'The Glade.' He explained their developing system of government, proudly naming it the Glade's 'Nickstem.'

Meanwhile, Newt rolled his eyes and continued unloading the lift, clearly unimpressed by Nick's self-proclaimed leadership. "No one calls it actually that," He whispered.

As Nick chatted, his grin never leaving, most of the boys gradually lost interest and wandered away, letting more light into ‘The Box,’ as they called it. By the time Nick started talking about the Med-hut, only three boys were left besides Nick and Newt. She learned their names were Alby, Fry, and Gally.

“Y'know, I can tell you more about the whole place once we're all outta here, Greenie,” Nick said, running a hand through his hair. “We've got a lot of shit to do. Do you have any questions?”

"Why am I here?" She spoke, voice low and raw, breaking when she tried to sound threatening. “A-and don't try anything funny; I've got a shovel.”

She, along with the others, was startled by the sound of her voice. Earlier, she had no intention of confirming her presence, but there was something about the boy in front of her that made her feel it was alright to speak up. Something about his eyes, or the way he rambled, suggested it was safe to let her guard down a little.

"Who are you?" She asked, speaking louder this time. She didn't want to come out yet. To her, leaving the Box meant leaving her safety. "Am I dead?"

"No, of course not," Nick said boredly. "Not unless this is hell.."

"What—?"

"Forget him." Newt quickly dismissed, hitting Nick in the shoulder and shooting him a glare. He stood up to lean against one of the walls. "Listen, we can wait all day, Mate. But you won't be getting much of your answers here." He spoke softly, though there was a sharp edge in his tone that told the girl that he'd rather be somewhere else.

The girl took her time studying at the boys, then the cage, and then her thumb, before slowly letting the cloth fall to the floor. She peeked over the barrels, eyeing Nick and Newt, as well as the three others watching from above. They all stared at her with expressions ranging from horror to confusion. They all exchanged fearful glances, but chose to say nothing. The girl's grip tightened around the garden trowel in her hand, the splintered wood pressing into her skin, offering her a small sense of control.

"A-alright," Nick stuttered. He sat up straighter and cleared his throat, his shoulders tense. "Sorry—you're—are you a fucking girl!?"

"Why? Should... I not be?"

"No, you really shouldn't," Newt whispered, words defensive. He was quick to answer. He seemed just about as panicked as Nick sounded. His mouth hung slightly agape and suddenly, he couldn't figure out where to put his hands. His eyes darted around the most, refusing to look at the girl.

"Why?" The girl stood up, her eyes narrowed as she stared them down. The boys finally got a proper look at her, their eyes a bit invasive as they looked her up and down, then up again. She tensed, feeling exposed under their gaze. The sun stung the top of her head, and the boys in front of her just stared, almost like they'd never seen a girl before.

Once she finally stepped out of the Box, she was met with the sight of around twenty boys milling about. Some stopped to stare, their eyes curious and confused, while others barely spared her a glance, mumbling words of disbelief. There was not a girl in sight.

The sun seemed to sit soundly in the middle of the sky, hovering over the tops of tall cement walls. The borders towering over everything around them, lush leaves of ivy climbing all the way to the top where they met the sun. As she looked around she could spot a forest with a lineup of four and a half huts, then a large mess of wooden planks that hovered over a variety of differently coloured hammocks.

"What the hell is this place..."

"This is the Glade, Girl Bean." Nick stood with his hands on his hips like a proud father. "Let's try this again—My name's Nick, and that there is Newt.”

“Do you remember your name? Maybe anything about how you got here?”

The girl looked around before her mind ran blank. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't remember any specific details about herself. Fear slowly welled up inside her once again, mingling with a deep-seated sadness that made her knees wobble. She felt helpless.

“No… no, no, no— why can't…” She looked up at the brunette then down at her thumb and her bloodied clothes. She spoke between rushed pants, tearing up as she looked at the boy with wise eyes, her voice getting higher. “Why can't I remember anything?”

"Hey, hey, hey. It's all good, alright?" The boy looked at her with his lips pressed together, clearly not knowing what to do. "You'll get it back in a day or two. Most of us did."

"We've all been through this, love," Newt said from below, hoisting up all the barrels and boxes with a few of the other boys. "We know exactly how you feel."

For the next hour or so, the girl spent her time in the Med-hut with Nick and another boy from the Box that he called Alby. As they talked, a tall, pudgy boy named Clint carefully wrapped her injured thumb in clean bandages. Nick explained the workings of the Glade again with his usual enthusiasm.

"Every morning, at the ass crack of dawn, the doors you see on each side of the Glade opens up," Nick said, pointing towards the towering grey walls. "Runners—like Alby and I—head into the Maze and try to find a way out. Then, at sunset, they close back up, and whatever's in there, stays in there. That includes Gladers.”

The girl's curiosity was piqued. Her eyes lingered on the tops of the large walls, curiosity and amusement written all over her face. "How do I become a Runner?" she asked, her gaze fixed on the cold, imposing concrete.

Clint, who was still bandaging her thumb, glanced up nervously. "Trust me when I say this, dude– uh, girl—you don't wanna go in there. Like, ever." He had a tendency to stutter as he spoke.

The girl's eyes narrowed. "What? I can so handle it!" she exclaimed, an edge in her voice.

Nick placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. "We aren't saying you can't, Girl Bean," he teased. "But, just so you know; Clint ran once, than soiled his jorts claimin' he saw some big-ass monster thing."

Clint flushed, muttering under his breath, "Don't gotta tell 'er my life story, Nick..."

Jeff, another boy in the Med-hut, chuckled at Clint's embarrassment. He sat closer to the door, rearranging an assortment of different coloured liquids. Alby, however, took on a more encouraging tone. "If you really wanna give it a go, you're free to join us next week," he said, offering the girl a kind smile. She returned it, feeling a surge of determination with a thrill of fear at the thought of entering the Maze.

“But!" Nick shouted, shooting a glare at Alby. "There's a reason why we've only got five Runners–"

"Yeah, but that's only 'cause of Clint's ghost stories," Jeff teased, a smirk tugging at his lips as he playfully ruffled Clint's already messy hair. Clint flushed. “You don't gotta worry about ‘em grievers much. They're only ever out at night.”

"Grievers?"

"Yeah, big-ass spider-lookin' slimy shits," Clint shuddered, biting his lip as he recalled the memory. His eyes flickered with unease, and he nervously scratched the back of his neck. "I saw them the very first time I ran. Took it as a sign that I wasn't meant for the Maze..."

"But again, they really only come out at night," Alby reassured her with a smile. Nick shook his head in disapproval, clearly not amused by Alby's attempt to downplay the danger. "No reason not to try it out."

"But I swear, I saw something, dude—ugh, girl!" he stammered, groaning as he hid his face in his hands, a blush crept up to the tips of his ears.

As they left the Med-hut, Nick, Alby, and the girl stepped into the open expanse of the Glade. The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden hue over everything. Gladers were busy setting up for the evening's festivities; a large pile of wood was being stacked in the centre of the open area, and several boys were already tending to a barbecue.

Nick glanced back at the girl and grinned. "You're gonna love tonight," he said, a skip in his step.

"Yeah, it's Greenie Night," Alby added, walking alongside them. He looked at the girl and chuckled. "It's basically your welcome party."

The girl raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Greenie Night? What's that?"

Nick smirked, swinging an arm over her shoulders and leading her over to a group of boys. "Every time a Greenie—like you—shows up, we throw a fun little shindig. We light a bonfire, fight, eat, and try to make you greenies feel at home... well, as much as you can in a place like this."

Alby nodded, watching as a group of boys carefully arranged a circle of stones around a pit of sand. "It's our way of makin’ sure everyone knows they're part of the Glade.

"It can get pretty lonely down here. A Greenie Night every month helps break the ice, gets everyone talking. And it helps the others realise that all we really have in here is each other.”

The girl smiled, feeling a bit of the tension she hadn't realised she'd been carrying begin to ease. "Sounds nice. So, you guys had one of these for each of you?"

Nick laughed. “Alby and I didn't get one–actually, we didn't start ‘em ‘til George,” he said, waving at a rather stocky boy with dirty blond hair and a great amount of freckles. “He was a mess when he got here. The others just thought it'd be nice, y'know?” A grin tugged on the brunet's lips. Alby gave him a knowing look.

Alby continued, “I was a total wreck my first night, thought for sure I was gonna hate it here. Betcha if I had a bonfire, I would've gotten my act together quicker.”

“Imagine bein' the first guy thrown in here—lonely little Gladers, cowering under the tree tops, tryin’ to ignore the fearful shrieks of the Maze…!” Nick slung his arm around Alby, nudging him playfully and yelling dramatically.

“Yeah, yeah. Think she gets it,” Alby grinned, looking at the girl. "It's one of the few times we can just chill, without worrying about the world or anything else. We can just be… well—kids."

"Alby and I are part of the older batch of kids in the Glade. Sixteen," Nick explained. "But there are kids younger who've been here longer than us. I heard about a boy from before I came. Ran straight into the Maze and never came out."

"Are you two like, in charge?" The girl asked.

"Nah, we don't really have all that in the Nickstem," Nick smirked, leading the group towards one of the Doors. "It's more of a... mutual respect for each other. We work as a community, everything we do is for the good of the other Gladers."

“We've only got two rules in the Glade,” Alby began. “One, never, under any circumstances, are you allowed to hurt another Glader. And two, play your part, do your job, and do it well.”

“So… communism?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

As they continued walking, they passed by a group of boys setting up a long table with food and drinks. The air was filled with the smell of roasting meat and fresh bread. The girl noticed the boys were laughing and joking around, a stark contrast to the murmurs she'd heard from the Box.

Nick gestured towards the bonfire, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Tonight, we eat, we drink, and maybe if you're lucky, you'll get your name back," he said, flashing a playful wink. The long grass was beginning to dance under their feet, the wind picking up across the Glade and creating a cool, comforting breeze as the sun began to sink.

Alby chuckled, clapping Nick on the back. "Don't get worked up if you don't, though," he added, smiling reassuringly at the girl. He glanced around at the bustling activity, where boys were setting up makeshift seating areas with logs and crates. Others were busy bringing out different sized pans and buckets. "Sometimes it takes a while for you to remember. It’s all about what ends up feeling right, like—nobody calls me Albert.”

The Glade danced under the warm light of the sun. The three watched as boy's started running out of the Maze in pairs before the Doors slowly began to shut. She let her fingers trace the rough grooves of the concrete, running her hand down the leaves of the lush green vines.

The stone rumbled beneath her touch as the girl imagined the labyrinth shifting, passages reconfiguring and creatures moving through the many twisted corridors that she could only imagine. Each subtle vibration felt like a pulse under her touch, a reminder that the Maze was alive, always changing, always challenging.

She had to crane her neck up to catch a glimpse of the towering walls, their sheer height dwarfing her and the others. As she stared up, a desire to run through the network of winding paths carving itself deep into her soul. Her heart pounded at the thought, begging to run in.

Her newfound yearning to explore every nook and cranny of the Maze grew stronger the longer she stared at its walls. The ivy that crawled over and above the walls fascinated her, each tendril seeming to mock the barriers that left the Gladers feeling trapped.

It reached out, unaware and unaffected by the dangers on the other side. She decided right then that that was what she wanted for her life in the Glade—to survive on both sides of the walls, just like the ivy.

"Ivy..." The word felt familiar as it slipped past her lips in a careful whisper, much like Nick's name. But she quickly dismissed the thought, focusing instead on the thrill of what lay beyond the walls. She imagined herself running through the Maze, outsmarting its lies and discovering its hidden truths. The idea of what freedom it could hold calling to her with an unmatched intensity.

A gust of wind blew through her hair, the Glades whispers running through her as she gripped a stubborn vine. She could hear the Maze calling to her.

With a gasp, she spun around to look at Nick. His eyes had narrowed as he listened to her whisper to herself, catching onto a rather familiar word. He watched her expression change; her eyes widening, a smile slowly creeping onto her face as she spoke a little louder.

"Lori…"

Contents, Next

lori, as in, florence nightingale.

thanks,

claire.

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shiningdesignersreflections · 8 months ago

Text

Chapter 2: Seeking and Waiting

Narrated by the design.

Yexiao: I think I've seen flowers like this before... but where?

Narrator: I hear a clear voice, but it's distant. Darkness surrounds me, and I cannot see anything.

Yexiao: Something is missing.

Narrator: The voice seems to be speaking to me, but also seems to be muttering to itself.

Yexiao: Perhaps something special? A spring morning, the first shaft of light breaking through the rain, or maybe something else...

Narrator: The voice is pleasant, but I can't understand what she is saying. I don't know what spring is, or rain, or sunshine.

Narrator: Following her murmuring and the rasp of a pencil, I gradually take form.

Narrator: It's the sound of a pencil moving across the paper, and something warm causes my soul to wake up.

Narrator: Bathing in the warmth of brilliant lights, I open up my eyes.

Yexiao: Although I'm still not done, at least there's progress.

Narrator: I see her scribble some letters at the bottom of the draft.

Narrator: Yexiao.

Narrator: Her name.

Narrator: I can see her, and feel the gentle touch of her pencil, but I can't communicate with her.

Narrator: I'm an unfinished draft, and without her final touches, I am not a complete soul.

Choose either "So you could only look at her?" or "Why wouldn't Yexiao let you finish the drawing?"

If "look," ...

You: So you could only watch her?

Narrator: We were together for a long time... although it was probably short for her.

If "finish," ...

You: Why didn't Yexiao finish drawing you?

Narrator: Yexiao always felt that "something was missing," and I waited, waited for her to finish me.

Narrator: Yexiao brought me to many places, and I was a silent traveler accompanying her.

Narrator: I had no sense of time, but Yexiao always seemed to have a lot of time, and never rushed our travels.

Narrator: We left Cloudcrest, passing through the luxurious Zither River and Azureink by the sea, where the sky was always gray.

Yexiao: Is it here? It should be, I think?

Narrator: Yexiao gets lost often, and was almost sent back to Cloudcrest by the police because of this.

Narrator: It seems like the roads in reality don't match with the map in her mind, so she relies on her intuitions.

Narrator: That day, walking along a small stream, Yexiao got lost again.

Narrator: This world has many streams like this, clear, gentle, dancing through the forests and fields.

Narrator: But perhaps this stream was unique, since Yexiao found what she was looking for by following this path.

Narrator: The stream leads to an abandoned village. The years had eaten away at the buildings for at least a century.

Narrator: At first, Yexiao can only stare at the deserted village.

Narrator: She walks into the town, stepping on fallen leaves, and as if pulled along by a string, walks into a courtyard.

Narrator: The ropes of a swing lay rotten among blossoming flowers that billow petals in the wind.

Narrator: Spring, morning, after a bout of rain. The first ray of sunlight shines down. It's all perfect.

Yexiao: So that's what it is. It's here.

Narrator: Yexiao pushes open a dusty door. The design of the room is strange yet simple, and a teacup rests on a table.

Narrator: The furniture rests undisturbed, as if in one moment there were people living here, and in the next moment they were gone.

Narrator: Yexiao dusts the table, puts down her drawing board, and lays me out again.

Yexiao: After searching for so long, I can finally continue.

Narrator: Her voice was always calm, gentle and clear. She was determined to complete me.

Yexiao: Just a little more.

Narrator: Perhaps because I had travelled with her for too long, I grew tired and fell deep into sleep.

Narrator: I dreamt of something, perhaps, if designs could dream.

Narrator: I dreamed of when the village was still not abandoned, irises blooming, ivies snaking across the walls like a designer drawing.

Narrator: Rain had just fallen, and the stone road is still wet. If there were a smell to morning dew, then it must be sweet.

Narrator: From the window wafts the aroma of somebody making steamed buns.

Narrator: A girl plays on a swing set in the courtyard. She extends her feet at the height of the swing, and retracts them when going back.

Narrator: She wears ancient clothing, little bells tied to her ankle. When the swing goes up, the bells ring in response.

Narrator: Ring, ring.

Narrator: The girl is happy. She smiles as brilliantly as the sunlight that shines down on her.

Woman's Voice: Yexiao, time for breakfast!

Missy: Alright, I'm coming!

Narrator: The girl stumbles off the swing onto the ground. She sits for a while before picking herself up and running into the room.

Missy: What are we having today? Dumplings? Steamed buns?

Narrator: I hear voices from the house.

Missy: Oh, meat buns.

Missy: Are we having hot pot tonight?

Missy: Meeps, time to wake up Meeps...

Narrator: Are these memories that Yexiao had forgotten? Are they coming back to her now?

Narrator: I don't know how much time has passed when I wake up, and when I do, I'm back in Cloudcrest.

Narrator: Yexiao isn't home, and the room is dark.

Narrator: And so I wait. I waited quietly in that room for almost as long as Yexiao had travelled.

Narrator: Finally, I hear the door open, sunlight pouring into the dark room.

Yexiao: *cough* It's dusty.

Narrator: It's Yexiao, she's back. She picks me up from the table.

Yexiao: This drawing looks familiar, when did I draw it? I don't think it's finished.

Narrator: She forgets again. She forgets me, and probably forgets those memories she struggled to get past.

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

#yexiao #shining nikki #chapter 2 #transcript #sr designer #seeking and waiting #drawing #design #travel #memory #flowers #incomplete

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legends-of-time · 10 months ago

Text

The Journey of Living at Downton

Chapter 27: March 1922

Masterlist

Tom and Emma have begun planning for their son's christening. Robert has shown his displeasure at the idea of Michael being Catholic. Emma supposes that Robert was able to get his head around the idea of Ivy being Catholic but the idea of being aware that a Catholic ceremony is going on, has bothered him. Emma is irritated by all this Catholic Vs. Protestant. They're both Christians.

Emma watches as Cora beams at her two grandchildren from where she sits in the corner of the Nursery as George rolls on the floor next to his cousin Sybbie who plays with her toys with Ivy. Emma has been cooing down to Michael who babbles at her from where he lies on the bed she sits on. She likes taking these opportunities to be away from all the hustle and bustle of the house and take time with the children as she's still going through her postpartum struggles.

The two women have been talking about the letter Emma had received today from Gwen. She was thrilled to hear from Gwen and even more pleased to hear that Gwen has gotten married though they've kept it quiet because his mother's ill, but she hopes she can introduce him to all of them soon. Gemma had told Emma that Anna had suggested they send Gwen a card with them all signing it. Cora had asked Emma to send her congratulations.

Other than her post-birth struggles and baptism arguments, the only thing that is troubling her at the moment is Edna or Miss Braithwaite. Thankfully Emma hasn't had to interact with the lady's maid as her duties don't require her to be wandering around the house like her job as a housemaid had done.

Emma swallows nervously as she thinks of the next topic she wants to bring up. "Tom and I," Emma begins, drawing Cora's attention, "were wondering if you'd be Michael's godmother."

Cora seems hesitant, but Emma can see she looks touched. "Am I allowed to be?"

"As long as at least one of them is Catholic." Emma reassures her. "Tom has invited his brother. Mary and Edith met him at our wedding."

"The one from Liverpool with the car company that offered Tom a job?" Cora questions.

"That's him." Emma affirms. "We've asked him to be Michael's godfather. His other brother Owen and his sister Ellen were Ivy's godparents."

"So, he'll be coming?"

Emma nods. "Tom thinks he should stay in the Village."

Cora looks appalled. "We can't have that!"

Emma winces, not wanting to addendum her. "He's a bit worried though."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you remember how Violet and Robert lectured Tom about not wearing the proper clothes to dinner when we first returned and not having a morning suit for Mary's wedding?" Emma asks. "He's worried how everyone will be towards Kieran."

Cora frowns and says nothing.

"Don't be angry." Emma says. "Kieran will come, he'll wear a perfectly fine suit and it'll all be all right."

"Have Tom give me the address and I'll write to him personally and say he's more than welcome to stay." Cora tells her.

Emma is still unsure but nods knowing she won't be able to fight her on this.

——

After hearing about him and a couple of weeks after giving birth, Emma had, while taking walks into the Village with her husband and children, decided to visit Mr Grigg at Crawley House and has been doing it ever since along with Mrs Hughes without the children and Tom though she often brings the children along as it seems to cheat him up.

Emma waits with Mrs Hughes at the bottom of the stairs when she hears a door open and Dr Clarkson calls, "Goodbye, Mr Grigg."

"Thank you, Doctor." Mr Grigg replies.

Dr Clarkson comes walking down the stairs, where Mrs Hughes and Emma stand waiting for him.

"All he needs to put him right is some paid work." He reassures them. Emma is glad to hear that he has been continuing to improve.

"It's hard for a healthy young man to find a job these days, never mind poor old Mr Grigg." Mrs Hughes reminds him as they all walk to the door.

"I know." Dr Clarkson replies and turns to the maid, who hands him his coat to say a brief thank you before speaking to Emma and Mrs Hughes again. "But Mrs Crawley has things in hand." He puts his coat on. "My guess is that you knew what you were doing, bringing him here."

Mrs Hughes has a slight innocent smile but Emma knows she doesn't mean it.

They are interrupted by Isobel calling from upstairs, "Emma? Mrs Hughes? Won't you come up?"

——

Emma and Mrs Hughes enter Mr Grigg's guest bedroom. The man moves to rise from his chair as they walk in. Isobel stands next to him.

"Oh, don't get up for us." Emma says hurriedly as he lets out a couple of coughs.

Mr Grigg still holds himself up from his chair, hovering. "What news of Charlie?"

"Mr Carson is still very busy," Mrs Hughes lies. Mr Grigg looks disappointed and eases himself back into his chair.

Mrs Hughes continues, "but he sends his best wishes." That's another thing, Mr Carson had made it very clear he wants nothing to do with his old business partner and friend.

Mr Grigg looks at her false smile doubtfully. "Does he? How did he phrase that exactly?"

Mrs Hughes splutters. "Well, he... he said to tell you–"

"He didn't say nothing, did he?"

"That's the thing with Mr Carson." Emma says pityingly. "He doesn't remember the days you spent together with any great nostalgia."

"He thinks it were all my fault... but it weren't." Mr Grigg says despondently.

"Meaning what?" Mrs Hughes questions.

"Never mind." He dismisses. "But it weren't my fault."

There's something very tragic going on, but neither of the women know what he's talking about.

——

Emma is surprised to hear that Violet and Isobel have been invited to dinner so suddenly as usually these things are planned in advance.

She sits on the settee next to Rose and Edith in the Drawing room. Mary stands in front of them holding what apparently is a letter from Matthew. Isobel stands in front of her daughter-in-law with Robert lingering behind her. Violet sits on one of the chairs next to them while Cora, Tom and Billy stand behind Mary.

"I don't understand. Did Matthew leave instructions after all?" Isobel questions. Emma glances between them hopefully.

"He left a letter." Robert corrects.

"He wrote it before we went to Scotland." Mary explains.

Isobel looks shocked and takes a seat in the chair next to her. "Well, where has it been?"

"Concealed in a book. They only dropped it off today." Robert informs them. Cora takes a seat in another chair and looks expectingly at her eldest daughter like the rest of them are.

Mary looks shaken and frightened and hands the letter to Robert. "Papa, you read it." She takes a seat next to Emma causing the three on the settee to shuffle up a bit.

Robert begins reading from the letter, "'My darling Mary, we are off to Duneagle in the morning and I have suddenly realised that I've never made a will or anything like one, which seems pretty feeble for a lawyer, and you being pregnant makes it even more irresponsible.'"

Violet nods sagely. "Hm, I'm afraid I have to agree with that." Emma's lips quirk slightly at her comment. She watches how Isobel is listening eagerly to Robert's every word.

"'I'll do it properly when I get back and tear this up before you ever see it, but I'll feel easier that I've recorded on paper that I wish you to be my sole heiress.'"

"What?" Edith murmurs in surprise. Emma has to agree with her. She wasn't expecting this or maybe she should have considering this is Matthew.

"'I cannot know if our baby is a boy or a girl. But I do know it will be a baby, if anything happens to me before I've drawn up a will, and so you must take charge.'" The whole family is listening intently, all of them very moved. "And now I shall sign this and get off home for dinner with you.'" Mary starts to cry and Emma herself has to press her lips together to stop the tears. "'What a lovely, lovely thought. Matthew.'" Emma and Violet both reach out a hand to comfort Mary.

"Now you see why I didn't want to read it." Mary sobs.

"But surely it must be legal, or do there have to be witnesses?" Isobel asks earnestly.

"But it was witnessed, by two of his clients, which is why no one in the office knew it existed." Mary tells them.

Which begs the question of how Matthew compelled two random clients to sit there and watch him write this private letter, instead of letting them go home and using his clerks as witnesses instead. And it also begs the question that if Matthew had the time to write these lines and two witnesses at hand, why did he not write a proper last will and testament straight away?

"Then it's settled." Tom declares.

"Nothing is settled." Robert corrects. "This is why I wanted Murray to check it first. Whatever Matthew's intentions, it is not a will."

Emma is disappointed at his words.

——

The family is at dinner. Emma sits between Rose and Edith. Mr Carson serves the wine while Alfred and Jimmy wait at the table, offering trays of food.

"I don't exactly know why, but I feel very happy that Matthew's been allowed a last word." Cora announces from between Isobel and Mary.

"I agree, more than I can say." Isobel says warmly.

"I knew he'd have a sensible plan." Edith comments.

"Yes, he wasn't the sort not to have things sorted." Emma adds.

Emma sees on Edith's right, Robert grumbling to his mother and the woman admonishing him back. She grits her teeth in annoyance at the man. The christening, now this.

"I'm sure Tom hopes you intend to get stuck in." Billy says to Mary from between Violet and Tom. Emma turns to take her food from the tray offered by Jimmy.

"I want the right to an opinion. I shall be content with that." Mary says modestly.

"You already have a right to an opinion." Robert reassures her, not looking as he takes food from the tray Alfred offers. Emma narrows her eyes at him.

"Do I? Good."

"Most certainly you do." Her father says cheerfully. "In fact, there's a question of using empty farmyards as new sources of revenue. I'd like to know what you feel about that."

Mary's expression drops. Everyone at the table is watching. "Well, I'd have to think about it—"

Robert rattles on, talking over her, "Crop rotation? Livestock versus cereals? Or indeed the whole matter of the tax. There are lots of things I would like your opinion on."

Mary, admiringly, stands her ground though looks a bit shaken. "I assume you're trying to make some sort of point?" She pointedly asks her father. Emma purses her lips in irritation as Alfred brings his tray next to her for her to grab her food.

"He's trying to show that a woman's place is in the home." Cora answers next to her, giving her husband a sharp look.

"But she knows a lot about Matthew's plans." Tom interrupts. "That has value for me." Emma smiles warmly at her husband's declaration. "Mrs Crawley, what do you think?"

"I'm afraid I'm on Mary's side, Robert, if sides there must be." Isobel replies.

"There are no sides, not at all." Robert corrects her. Emma thinks he almost looks like a petulant child not getting his way. He turns to Mary. "I'm pleased if you're pleased. I'm just saying you have some work to do. That is, if the letter turns out to be valid."

"Which you very much hope it is not." Violet remarks. Robert looks very caught out.

——

Mrs Hughes, Emma and Isobel stand facing each other in Mrs Hughes' Sitting room. It seems Isobel had been working on finding more work for Mr Grigg.

"You wrote to the Opera House in Belfast? That was enterprising." Mrs Hughes compliments.

"I wrote to a great many theatres." Isobel explains. "But the manager at the Opera House wrote back. It seems they're in need of a stage door keeper. They'd chosen one but he dropped out. He asks Mr Grigg to consider it."

"Well, that's good to hear." Emma says.

"It is."

Mrs Hughes hesitates for a moment before speaking, "I heard about Mr Matthew's letter. I hope it wasn't too upsetting."

Isobel is tearful as she speaks, "As a matter of fact, it was a relief. I felt so happy that he'd finally been heard. But judging by tonight's dinner, it may prove a heavy mantle for Lady Mary."

Emma huffs. "The only thing that'll make it difficult is her father's attitude."

——

Emma is changing for bed, pottering around the bedroom while her husband sits under the sheets reading, already dressed for bed. He's gone to bed earlier while Emma had been in the Nursery feeding Michael, who had woken up and was hungry. They are discussing what happened at dinner.

"We need to show Mary we are all on her side." Emma says as she takes off her jewellery. Nothing as elaborate as the upper case would wear but more middle class earning jewellery. "I don't want her father knocking her confidence."

"He likes Downton being under his control again." Tom points out, not looking up from his book.

Emma rolls her eyes and huffs as she slips on her pyjamas, a top and bottoms that are similar to Rose's as the young girl has encouraged Emma to get a couple of sets, after having slipped off her clothes. "I know. But surely, he must realise that he can't do it on his own otherwise he'll go back to his stupid ways."

"Mary won't allow it." Tom reassures her. He puts the book on the side table, probably realising his wife wants to speak with him and won't be ignored. "She's a stubborn one."

Emma crawls into bed next to him and slumps against his side as Tom automatically wraps an arm around her. "All the Crawley sisters are or were..." She becomes sad and tearful at the thought of the Crawley sister that's no longer with them. Tom squeezes her closer to him to comfort her.

——

Edith has once again gone to London. Plans seem to be going ahead. Edith has told Emma about Gregson's plan to become a German citizen. Emma is anxious about how this will all end though she had suggested to Edith that she should invite Gregson to the house party at Downton that's being hosted next month.

Anna hands Emma the card that will be sent to Gwen to sign, which Emma happily does. It's funny thinking back to the old days of her, Anna, Gwen and Gemma being a proper little group.

Anna herself has been pulled into chaperoning Rose to a thé Dansant in York. It seems more of a working class thing but Emma knows Anna will keep Rose in line if anything happens.

Emma knows they need to make sure that Mary learns more about the estate if she's going to own half of it (as Emma hopes) or at least have a say so she goes to Violet as she knows the woman will help her in the quest. Emma sends a message to the Dower house and the woman responds and they come up with a plan to get Tom to help Mary learn.

Emma and Mary get invited over to the Dower House and so as Tom though he is delayed due to work. Violet sits in her chair while Emma and Mary sit on the settee next to her. The three women are in the middle of a conversation when the door opens to admit Mr Spratt, the butler.

"Mr Branson, Your Ladyship." Emma sees her husband hurriedly dart into the Drawing room they sit in looking a bit flustered and out of breath in his rustic land agent's suit and boots. Mr Spratt closes the door and leaves.

"Sorry if I'm late. I had to call on old Fairclough at Roundhills." Tom apologises.

"You're not at all late." Violet says kindly. She waves him to a chair opposite her, on the other side of the settee and she turns Mary as he sits. "Now I asked Branson to come here because I have an idea."

Mary closes her eyes in annoyance briefly while Emma purses her lips in irritation. "Granny, you must call him Tom." The former tells her grandmother.

Violet is honestly surprised. "I thought I could call him Branson again, now that he's the agent."

"Well, you can't!" Mary admonishes her. Emma's irritation turns to amusement as she watches the duo.

"I don't mind." Tom quickly interrupts with a level of awkwardness.

Violet chuckles. "No. I see I'm beaten. But oh, how I sympathise with King Canute." Emma and Tom share amused grins.

"Now what is this idea?" Mary asks bringing them back to why they're here.

"Your grandmother and I was thinking how now that either you or your baby son own half of Downton, you should have a say in running it." Emma explains.

"It's just what you need." Violet adds.

"But didn't last night's dinner disabuse you of that scheme?" Mary wonders dejectedly. Her father's tirade had clearly gotten to her.

"Well, that's the point." Violet says. "We want er..."

"Tom."

"...Tom to be your instructor."

"What?" Tom blurts out in pleasant surprise. He looks to Emma who gives him a look that says "well, who else are we going to ask?" and he seems quite touched.

"Well, take Mary, you know, on your rounds. Let her learn the farmers' difficulties." Violet explains. "Hmm... Explain the... crops and the live-, the livestock." She has no idea what exactly is involved but at least she knows that it will matter to them. "You know, let her see the problems facing the estate." Tom looks quite willing. Mary looks sceptical.

"And are we to do all this without telling Papa? Isn't that rather underhand?" Mary questions. Despite her words, Emma sees a slight smile creeping up on Mary's face.

"There can be too much truth in any relationship." Violet says sagely.

Mary and Tom exchange a look. Tom is still grinning. It's settled. Later on in the day, Emma sees Mary and Tom off in the car.

——

Tom is pleased when he and Mary return from looking at the estate making Emma hopeful. Edith is late getting back from London so Gemma simply goes to see if Emma has everything she needs but really it's time for the two of them to have a gossip.

"Edna and Thomas?" Emma repeats in alarm. Gemma has just told her that the duo have been whispering and hanging out with one another (she hadn't used the word 'hanging out' but that's basically what was said).

"Mr Barrow and Miss Braithwaite." Gemma corrects.

Emma rolls her eyes. "I can call Miss Braithwaite what I want and Thomas doesn't care what I call him."

"He would let you." Gemma grins and Emma does a smug look back, knowing Gemma knows she's joking. "Though I'm concerned what either of them are getting out of it. You know Mr Barrow's scheming ways and how Miss Braithwaite was last time."

"I know." Emma frowns. "Perhaps it won't last. You saw how Miss O'Brien and Thomas got."

"True."

God Thomas. What are you up to?

——

Cora, Robert, Mary, Violet, Tom, Emma and Billy wait for Edith to arrive as they sit in the Drawing room before dinner. Robert leans on the fireplace with Isis lounging on the floor behind him as he talks to his wife who sits in a chair next to him. Emma sits on the settee talking to Tom and Billy who stand next to her. Mary sits at the other end of the settee talking to her grandmother who sits in a chair next to her.

The door opens and finally, Edith hurries into the room. Emma is 'horrified' to see she hasn't dressed for dinner. Heaven above.

"Ah, here she is." Emma remarks as she hurries in.

"Ah, darling." Cora utters.

Violet and Edith exchange a kiss in greeting.

"Are you only just back?" Robert asks his daughter.

"We sat forever outside Peterborough. We never found out why." Edith kisses Robert, too. "Shall I change?" She asks as she walks over to kiss her mother in greeting too.

"No, don't bother. It's only us." Cora reassures her.

"And who are we to warrant any courtesy?" Violet comments sarcastically to Mary and Emma.

"Don't be difficult, Granny." Mary warns her with a smile. Edith sits in the chair next to her grandmother.

"Where's Rose? Have we lost her?" Robert asks. He almost sounds like he wishes the answer was yes. The door opens and Rose comes in.

"I'm so sorry I'm late." She apologises.

"Never mind, never mind."

She takes a seat with Mary and Emma. Robert remains standing by the fireplace. He's clearly about to make an important announcement.

"Now I've got you all here, and before Carson comes in, I have something to say. I had a letter today from Murray..." He begins.

Mr Carson walks in and clears his throat. Apparently, dinner is getting cold. Robert holds out a hand to stop him.

"Wait just a moment while I finish." He speaks.

"Shall I leave, My Lord?" Mr Carson asks.

"No. You might as well hear this." Mr Carson closes the door behind him and stands dutifully next to it. "Murray has taken Matthew's letter to various authorities and their conclusion is that it demonstrates testamentary intention."

"What's that?" Emma asks.

"It means that the writer intended the document to serve as a will." Robert replies. Emma stares at him in disbelief. Has it really happened?

"So, the bequest stands?" Violet questions. Emma can't blame her for checking to be sure.

"Yes. Mary owns half the estate." Violet sighs in relief and pats Mary's arm.

"That sounds like a very good result." Tom remarks.

"And now we should go in to dinner before Mrs Patmore blows a gasket." Robert reminds them. Emma internally snorts when she thinks of the times Mrs Patmore has done so.

They all get up. Mr Carson opens the door for them. Cora squeezes Robert's hand as she walks past him, acknowledging the brave face he's putting on this. Tom, Robert and Mary linger but not for too long before joining them.

——

Mrs Crawley and Mr Griggs, the latter in respectable clothes and carrying a suitcase, ascend the stairs from the underpass to the platform at the Railway Station with Emma, Mrs Hughes and Dr Clarkson following. They look along the platform, but apart from the station guard, there is no one else there. Emma sighs in disappointment at the fact that Mr Carson hasn't turned up after all. The train pulls into the station and halts. It is then that through the steam, Mr Carson comes walking towards them and tips his hat to the ladies.

"Good morning, Carson." Isobel greets, looking as if she's trying to contain her excitement.

"I hope I'm not in the way." Mr Carson says, seemingly trying to keep his usual proper demeanour.

"Not a bit." Emma quickly replies. "You remember Mr Grigg." She doesn't ask it as a question as that would be silly.

Mr Grigg walks towards Mr Carson. "Hello, Charlie. Good of you to come."

The two men turn and walk along the platform together, leaving the other four behind.

"I'm delighted but I'm not surprised." Isobel declares as they watch the two up ahead walk and talk.

"Aren't you? Because I'm astonished." Mrs Hughes mutters.

They begin walking slowly behind the men to give them privacy. Soon the station master calls, "All aboard!"

"I am sorry to interrupt," Isobel says having caught up with them with Dr Clarkson, Mrs Hughes and Emma lingering behind her, "but I think you must get aboard."

Mr Grigg opens the door of a third class carriage, then turns to shake her hand. "I can't tell you how grateful I am, Mrs Crawley."

"Very good luck."

"Thank you." He makes a move to get in, then turns back to Mr Carson. "I doubt we'll meet again, but can we shake on it? We've known some ups and downs together, it's true, but if this is goodbye... let's part as friends, eh?"

Mr Carson removing his glove and shaking his hand, says, "All right. I wish you well."

"Likewise, Charlie." He gets in and closes the door. Mr Carson locks it after him, and the train starts moving out of the station.

The butler turns to the woman standing next to him. "Mrs Crawley, I should be grateful if you would let me know any expense you have been put to on Mr Griggs' behalf during his stay with you."

"Oh, no. That's completely unnecessary—" Isobel insists.

"I should be grateful." Mr Carson cuts her off pointedly. Emma can see how much this means to him.

"Very well, Carson, I shall do that." So does Isobel it seems.

He tips his hat to her as the train rounds the corner and disappears from view. "Good day to you."

He walks away, past Isobel and also past Emma, Mrs Hughes and Dr Clarkson. Mrs Hughes hurries after him.

——

One week later.

"Why are you so nervous?" Emma asks as she sits in the armchair of their room nursing Michael and watching her husband fidgeting as he paces from one end of the room to the other. Ivy plays with some toys on the floor. "It's only Kieran. You're acting as if the King and Queen are coming for the christening."

"Maybe we shouldn't have invited him here." Tom blurts out.

Emma rolls her eyes. "Tom, don't be stupid!"

Tom walks over to the bed, sits down and puts his head in his hands. "I mean, maybe we should have arranged for the christening in Liverpool, near where Kieran lives. That way we'd have been out of sight and out of mind as we would have been in Dublin, and Lord Grantham would have less reason to complain or drop hints here and there that we're not doing right by Michael and Ivy."

"His thinking regarding a Catholic upbringing is backward – that's obvious." Emma admits with a sigh. "But I can see that he genuinely cares about Ivy and Michael, almost as if they're his grandchildren along with Sybbie and George. We can embrace that and ignore the rest."

Tom huffs a laugh; he looks up at her with a slight smile. "Never would have imagined the Earl of Grantham caring about my children."

"Stranger things have happened."

"I'd beg to differ." Tom remarks.

"Will you come over here please?" Emma asks Tom quietly.

Tom kneels in front of the armchair and watches Michael nurse. He seems to relax as he watches his son.

Emma runs her fingers through his hair. "Everything is going to be all right. Kieran gets on well with everyone."

Tom rolls his eyes. "He gets along well with people he likes, and you know well he's not inclined to like anyone in this house, certainly not above stairs."

"Maybe Robert will win him over with his range of alcohol." Emma half jokes with a grin.

Tom snorts. "Lord Grantham and my brother getting along. That'll be a sight."

As if on cue, there is a knock on the door. Ivy perks up in interest and wobbly pulls herself up causing Tom to stand quickly and hold her hand. Emma takes a nursing cloth and drapes it over herself and Michael. Seeing that Emma is ready, Tom opens the door, with a toddling Ivy, to see Alfred on the other side.

"Hello, Sir, I apologise for the intrusion, but Mr. Branson is here." He speaks.

Tom's eyes go wide. "Already! He said he was coming on the evening train."

Emma laughs. "Thank you, Alfred. We'll be down to the Hall in a moment."

Alfred shifts on his feet, looking uncomfortable. "Actually, he's in the downstairs. I told him he could come up, when he came in through the servants' door, but he refused. Not that he's been rude or anything. In fact, he's giving everyone a bit of a laugh."

"That's Kieran." Emma says, unable to stop herself from smiling, imagining the scene he might be making downstairs and the redness of Mr Carson's complexion in the face of it.

Tom, on the other hand, drops his head back in exasperation, making both Alfred and Emma laugh. "Dear God, why does he like making things difficult." With a sigh, he turns to Emma, "Take your time finishing with Michael. I'll go get him sorted out."

——

Emma leaves Ivy and Michael with the Nanny and is reaching the servant entrance when Tom, Mary and Kieran appear at the top of the stairs. Mary must've gone with Tom as a backup.

"Kieran! It's so lovely to see you again! And with so much for us all to celebrate." Emma greets him with a grin.

Kieran leans down to kiss Emma and offers a genuine smile. "Well, I don't know about myself but you certainly do. How are the two little rascals?"

"Looking forward to meeting their uncle." Emma says warmly.

After stepping away from Kieran's embrace, she notices the continued tension in Tom's shoulders and Mary's tight lipped smile.

Emma knows that dwelling on what had obviously been an awkward scene downstairs would just make things worse so she takes Kieran by the arm.

"There'll be time for a tour later, though I doubt there's much of interest to you here in the gloomy old house, so how about we go meet Ivy and Michael?"

——

The conversation is awkward with Kieran. Emma honestly thought they would have found this sort of thing easier with her, Tom and Billy but Kieran is a different breed.

"So!" Mary interjects from her father's left, eager to move the subject to safer waters than what Kieran does for a living and the environment of Liverpool, which caused Robert to make comments about how Tom was going to drag his family to such a place. "Who's coming to the christening?"

"All of us, I expect," Cora says quickly, hoping, like Mary, to squelch further awkwardness.

"Oh, yes." Violet agrees. "If Emma and Branson- Tom want me to."

Tom smiles. "We would be honoured."

"Robert, are you coming?" Billy asks, gingerly from next to his mother-in-law.

Robert sighs. "I don't know that Tom and Emma want me there."

"How can you say that, Robert?" Emma replies from the other end.

"And anyway," Robert continues, "I wouldn't know what to do. All that crossing and bobbing up and down. I went to a mass once in Rome. It was more like a gymnastic display."

Kieran laughs but soon realises no one else is. Tom scratches his forehead, likely amused at his brother's antics.

"I'm sure even born and bred Catholics are guilty of find it all rather tiresome." Emma argues. "But you should come."

"Why? What difference would it make?" Robert asks carelessly.

"I want you there." Emma says. "Michael's going to be brought up in your house for the foreseeable future and will be close with your grandchildren and will likely love you like a grandfather and will want you there as well."

"Will you argue with that?" Cora asks with a smirk.

"If you think it's so important." Robert sniffs as if he isn't touched but Emma can see he is as he looks at her.

She smiles. "I do."

——

On Sunday, Mr Michael Kieran Branson is baptised into the Catholic faith at St. Wilfred's Catholic Church in Ripon.

——

A/N: Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

#downton abbey

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twistedisciple · 2 years ago

Text

Cuts You Up [Griss & Caeldori]

@venalier

had they been that desperate for substituting faculty? or was this man a reforming bandit under supervision of the church, and this class section his first test of responsibility? caeldori hadn't calculated for having to watch the instructor today too, but it's exactly what she does, furrowed brow tracking the bare-chested man as he stalks in a lazy circle towards the training implements and appears to deem them unworthy. it's just her luck, really. or maybe, put another way, there was a chance they'd done this knowing that she'd be in charge. was that arrogant of her to hope for? she'd certainly proven herself capable of handling misfits in the past. whoever this was intended to be a test for, or if it was intended to be at all, she watches as he whips the rest of the class into action as barbarically as he'd greeted her. it works, sure, but the look on his face as he watches them scramble to avoid his fury unsettles her. ( something about it... doesn't seem like just the average bandit. ) as if sensing her scrutiny, he turns on her next with a now deceptively placid look she knows better than to trust. " ... all right. there's a beginning part that i should do to honor the blade and the teacher, but in the interest of time, i can skip that for now." one hand settles on the weapon at her hip, just under the guard. even apparently satisfied, there's a hunger in the way he eyes her that she can't trace — is it how he always looks? the energy about him feels a little different from a moment ago when he'd seemed almost bored listening to her recount the itinerary. she'll worry about it after. all her focus has to be on a demonstration if she wants to give a good one. "please step back. the training weapons are wood, but i was taught using a blunted sword, so that's what i'll be using. it's not sharp, but it could still hurt if you're in the way." acknowledging and ignoring the few pairs of eyes that've drifted in their direction upon sensing something about to happen, caeldori brings her other hand to the iaito's bound hilt and takes a preemptive step back before settling her stance and shifting her focus to her breathing. years of instruction, the aroma of the particular kind of grass and loam that surrounded the village of her deeprealm — impressions of it filter back in behind her senses like fine mist. her grip tightens, and she begins the first of the kata.

“Sure, sure.” Griss nods dismissively. As long as she was going to demonstrate the technique, he didn’t care if she “honored the blade” or whatever other traditional, though impractical, steps went with it. He’s pretty sure he’d seen one of Princess Ivy’s retainers do the same, back when he was floating around Elusia’s castle with little else to do but wait for orders, so at least their respective countries’ swordmasters had that much in common. In an act of surprising deference, he takes a step back from Caeldori to give her the space she requested, but his eyes remain fixed hungrily on her blade. To their onlookers, he would merely look attentive, a perfect student in his own right.

The stillness is the quiet before a thunderclap. They both move lightning-quick. The blade flashes, tastes blood. Gasps turn the rest of the heads to gape. The not-so-hapless victim, a mere two steps from where he had stood, laughs, and the scene is in motion once more. He wicks the bubbling blood from the new, shallow cut across his middle with his thumb, then licks it clean with too much enthusiasm and too little shame.

“Not bad for a blunted sword.” He chuckles, refusing to let Caeldori run from his stare. “Feels better hitting a person, doesn’t it? Get to see what it takes to draw blood too.” Straw effigies didn’t offer the same sort of satisfaction. The straw wasn’t dense enough, and they couldn’t move. But more importantly, nothing came out of them either. No screams, no blood, no entrails, and none of the trauma that would send these brats fleeing from their comrades in the midst of battle because they had never seen anything but straw and cotton spill onto their feet.

Griss breaks the stare to assess his wound, which is already scabbing over in a thin, rusty line. He presses on it with his forefinger. It doesn’t even sting.

“Your schedule’s real cute, but it needs some changes,” he says, and then sends their awestruck audience back to their warmups with a sudden, sharp glare. “First, they’re gonna be using that sword, not the wooden ones. Anyone serious about war can’t be scared of the real deal. And besides--" he opens out his arms, "I'm still in one piece. Now, with only one sword, that means they can’t all do it at the same time, so… smash the demonstration and the practice together. One of ‘em gets up here, tries the technique, the rest watch, got it?” Smirking, he holds up three fingers. “And the last thing: they’re gonna be hittin’ each other. Or me, if Miss Teacher’s Pet is too scared they'll go cryin' to the Archbishop and she won’t get to volunteer anymore.”

#venalier #thread : cuts you up #mission season: diminished #// good luck soldier you've got your hands full with this one o7 #// and the students aren't even in the picture yet #// griss on his BEST behavior :)

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unluckyhoneybee · 2 years ago

Text

The Handsome Artist. 3 (Daniel Ricciardo)

Mark your skin. Abigail finally gets her ivy.

MASTERLIST. Moodboards and Playlist

Previous part: Just checking.

Notes: things will start getting interesting, I promise. Finally, the tattoo chapter. We could say everything starts here.

Warning: mentions of needles.

I had been there for ten minutes. Molly said she would show up. But she didn't. I had my phone in hand and my foot was taping the floor. I was feeling something on my chest. Nerves? Anxiety?

I heard the door opening on my right and a deep voice laughing. With Daniel, a broad tall man, who look like the leader of a weird cult, was laughing hard with his arm covered in plastic. That was the big piece he had before me.

On Friday morning, he had already texted me.

Daniel Ricciardo: I have some free time for you on Tuesday. Does 17.50 fit?

It had brought a smile to my face. I wanted the tattoo already. I couldn't wait to see it.

Me: wow, so fast. It's perfect. Thanks xx.

And there I was. His eyes fell on me and he smiled.

"Give me a second, okay?"

You nodded with a shy smile.

"So you are going to see Daniel. Half naked?"

"That's why I need you there, Molls"

"I will go. But don't expect me to be there every time you get naked in front of a guy."

And she hadn't arrived yet. The nerves were getting bigger on my belly.

I saw how the weird man payed Daniel, how they chatted for a bit and talked about how the big man should take care of the tattoo.

"See you, mate. If you have any problem, you know where to find me!"

Daniel walked the man to the door and then locked it.

"You should have heard him whimper" He chuckled.

"It doesn't help" I whispered with a smile.

"Don't worry, Abi. I'll be careful"

Abi, Abi, Abi.

My heart was beating fast but I didn't even know why.

"Come with me."

I got up and followed him, texting Molly at the same time.

Me: you are the worst.

She was obsessed with Daniel. She wanted me to marry him and I was sure she had missed this on purpose.

Daniel closed the door when I came in and set the lock.

"Nobody will come uncalled." He gave me a smile. "Leave your stuff whenever you like, feel free".

I let my things next to the helmet in the table, which made me think. A motorbike. What kind? Was he one of those guys with fast bikes who passed you on the road? Or was he in one of those bands?

"Lady, sit here. Let's have a chat."

I sat where he told me and our knees touched.

"Are you nervous?" He said chuckling.

"Yeah" I smiled.

"Well, it's normal. Really. Just trust me. We can stop whenever you feel like."

I nodded. I was playing with my fingers.

Daniel showed me the drawing

"I'm gonna start with the lines. I will make the branch first and then the leaves. Only the shape of them. It will take a while and it's your first so... We will take it slow."

I swallowed.

"Then the color. It hurts less. I promise. It's a different kind of needle and the pain is not as intense. Same thing. We can stop. Also... If I finish the lines and you want to stop for today, it's okay too"

I bit my lip. Was he always like this? Had he told the big man the same thing?

"Tell me, are you still 100% sure?"

I laughed a bit and dried my palms on my trousers.

"Definitely. I'm excited"

"That's what I want to hear."

He patted my knee.

"Let's get to it then."

I bit my lip. What was I supposed to do?

He got up and walked around, grabbing stuff from drawers before sitting in front of me.

"Well, Abigail. Privacy is something we respect in Ham&Avo. This is for you. I can't work on this if you keep your bra on. But I don't want you to feel uncomfortable,okay? This things are like stickers, completely healthy and clean. Just for you to cover yourself with them."

"Oh" I had wonder how we would do it. He had the answer there. "That's nice."

He laughed a bit and passed me the two envelopes.

"Thank you... Um..." I looked around. I had seen a toilet signal outside, should I go there?

"Upstairs." He pointed at the stairs. "Just close the curtain and get changed in there."

"Okay."

I climbed the stairs slowly under his gaze and he gave thumbs up before I closed the curtain. It was a tiny room, it only had a chair and shelves with books and folders, all tattoo ralated. There was also a metallic door, closed with a lock and with a Private Area sign. I wonder what was behind.

"Lady?" He asked from downstairs.

"Yes?"

"Rock folk for today?"

"Perfect!"

I bit down a smile. It was nice to find someone with the same taste of music as me. Molly and I were opposite.

I took my shirt and bra off and looked at the tiny mirror hanging in a wall. I took a deep breath. It had been a while since someone saw me like this.

It will be fine. He is doing his job. He seems to be a nice guy. He only had good words about this. You heard him.

I put those things over my nipples, leaving them completely covered. My breast were still naked, though. And I still felt a bit insecure.

I walked down with my shirt over my chest. He was cleaning the chair and had set a little cart next to it. He had everything ready.

"I'm back"

He looked up and smile.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah" I kind of lied my knees were shaking.

He moved around without getting up, pushing his stool with his feet. He took a paper and told me to get closer to him.

"I need you to uncover yourself, Abi"

I bit my lip.

"Yeah, obviously. Yeah."

He patiently waited for the long seconds it took me to decided.

Used to hungry and disgusting looks from men when I was in this state or similar, it hit hard when Daniel politely kept his eyes away from my chest.

"Come closer."

He had black gloves on and a bottle.

I wasn't ready for it. I almost pant when he pressed his hand on my skin. He was so careful and respectful. Really, it was unbelievable. His big hand moved around my breast with slow strokes.

"I'm cleaning the skin. It's important because the needle will open it. It would leave open wounds. The coolest, though. But it's important to clean it first."

"Okay..."

I put my hands behind my back and looked down. My bare chest was right in front the most attractive guy ever and I was on the verge of fainting.

"Abi..."

"Mhm"

"Don't be nervous" He laughed.

"Easy to say"

"You will love it. It's addictive"

He turned around and grabbed another bottle before putting the content on his fingers.

"This will help with the drawing. To plaster it in your skin."

I nodded.

He put the cold cream on me and massaged it softly.

"Good?" He asked looking up at me. Fuck...

I nodded with a smile and he turned again, taking the drawing.

"Okay. Ready? Let's see how this beauty looks on you."

"I'm ready"

The pressed the paper on my skin and made sure it was perfectly positioned. I stopped breathing when he gently pulled the paper.

"Fuck, yes. It's beautiful, Abigail" He gasped put of breath. "Turn around"

With his big hands on my hips, he made me turn and check myself on the mirror. I looked at my chest. He was right. The leaves curled around my breast and it was perfect.

"What do you say?" He said peeking from behind me. His warm hands were still on my hips and somehow they felt perfect on me.

"You are so talented, Daniel."

"Just wait and see the real thing" He gave me a cheeky smile that made me blush.

Soon I was laying on the chair, completely reclined. It was more like a bed now. He was on my side, my arm was weirdly hanging on one side, trapped between his chest and the leather. I was looking at the ceiling because he was way to close to look at him now and I was to nervous.

"Okay. Let's make a line and see how you feel"

The buzzing sound filled the room.

"3..2...1..."

I felt the needle on my skin and the vibrations on my ribcage. It burned.

"Fuck"

"Too bad?"

I shook my head.

"It's fine. I can take it"

"Brave girl. Just tell me if you need to stop"

"Understood"

I tried to get my mind of the feeling. I tried to pay more attention to his fingers than the needle. He was softly humming alongside some Mumford and Sons song.

"You have good skin"

I laughed a bit, trying to not move too much.

"That's weird"

He laughed too.

"Yeah, you are right. You just make the job easy." He said shooting a quick glance to my face.

"I'm glad"

Minutes passed and I was so deep in my thoughts that I didn't hear him.

"I've done the circle. Let's get with the leaves."

I bit my lip. It was going fast.

"How would you describe the pain?"

"A scratch. A very deep one. Like when -ah" I closed my eyes and bit my lips. Suddenly, something had hurt more than before. "Fuck, that hurted" I whispered.

"Sorry. The angle I suppose. There is bone here" He gently tapped my ribs and when I looked down at him he was blushing. Cute.

"It's okay. I was caught off guard"

"Ready?"

"Go on"

He kept tattooing and humming with the music. He was so close I could see. The freckles on his nose, the softness of his curls, the bridge of his nose... He was beautiful.

"I can't do my job if you look at me like that, Abi"

I blushed and looked away, mh heart pounding on my chest. I was like a little girl.

"Relax..." He stroked my arm with his hand and then cleaned the ink from the tattoo.

"Yeah, sorry"

It tried to stay still, to not look at him and make him uncomfortable. He was just doing his job after all.

"You are behaving well. I like you, you are a good client" He muttered.

I was only able to nod, his words having a bigger effect than they should.

Time went by, the pain became a dull soreness, as if the skin had gone numb.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"I'm good."

"You wanna stay here a bit more so I can add color?"

I bit my lip and nodded. His eyes darted to my mouth for a second before he looked away.

Danny POV.

Unfair. That's what it was. She had those brown eyes, big brown eyes. Her nose was straight and she had those perfect lips. Then she bit them and I almost scream.

Her body was warm under may hands, her skin was so perfect. Not only for working. She had little marks here and there, moles everywhere... It was the most difficult job I had done, not for the tattoo itself, but for Abigail, calm and breathing slowly, biting his finger once in a while. She was behaving perfectly, of course. But she was giving me those eyes. She was there half naked in my studio, being all cute and beautiful.

I looked at the work in front of me. The leaves curled perfectly and followed the curve of her breast. It looked really good on her. Just perfect.

"Okay... Last leaf."

She muttered a yes. She was nervous. I had caught her staring and I had to force myself to not react. To not lean and press my mouth on hers.

I made it carefully, not wanting to fuck up now. Not that I used to.

"Okay, Abi. I'm done with this. Do you trust me or want to check it before?"

"It's not like if your erase it if there was something wrong" She whispered half laughing.

Even her laugh was beautiful.

"Well, you are right. So... Let's get to it"

She was looking at the ceiling when I pressed the needle with the green ink. I felt her twich a bit and her hand fell to my shoulder.

Abigail POV.

I grabbed his shoulder hard.

"You said it hurts less"

"It usually does." He said stoping. "Is it really bad?"

I looked at him. It had been a bit worst. But I could take it, right?

"I-I think I can do it"

"Of course you do, you are doing well" Those praising words, accompanied by a little touch on my belly, mande my heart miss a beat.

He resumed his work and I tried to not flinch. It turns out that it took you longer with this. I saw him working with colors, checking the drawing and different images. At some point, he was so close, his whole forearm was on me. He felt warm and and let me grab his shoulder.

"You are doing so well. We are almost there... Last touches."

I closed my eyes. Yep, Jennifer needs to know about this.

Therapy was a way to recover from the last few years. Jennifer was helping me to be the old Abigail, or a new one. But a different Abigail than the one Arnie created. I didn't want to be scared anymore. I wanted to take my own decision, to do things I could have never imagined. So that's why I was here. I was getting a tattoo with the most handsome tattoo artist ever. He was making me dizzy and I didn't know if I was ready for all of this.

"Abi?"

I looked at him.

"I said we are done" He was trying to not laugh, his lips were pressed in a thin line. "Where were you, lady?"

I chuckled. "Not thinking about the pain"

"Oh honey, nothing of that. You did so good." He patted my tummy and leaned back on the chair. "Get up and check it"

I sat and looked down gasping when I saw what he had done.

"Oh God, Daniel."

"Let me help you"

I tried to ignore the fact that he had a hand on my waist to help me.

I was in front of the mirror, he was behind me and I was completely stunned. He had made it perfectly. Daniel Ricciardo was a fantastic tattoo artist.

"Oh Daniel, I love it"

He laughed. He was so happy he laughed and his smile was like the sun.

"I do like it a lot too. Thank you for choosing me"

"It wasn't me, it was Molly"

"Thank her for me please"

I laughed a bit and looked back at the tattoo.

"It's perfect."

"You were brave. I know it's painful. You did it well"

"You made it easy" I whispered and looked at him through the mirror.

"Let me clean it" He said with a tiny smile.

Like before, he sat on the stool and made me stand in front of him. He was even more careful than before. He put cream and cleaned it before talking a picture.

"With your permission, I will post it on Instagram"

"Okay" I smiled. He was proud of his work and it showed. So why would I take that from him.

"Let me cover and I will let you get dressed."

He covered it with plastic and was as careful as before. I was so surprised of his work, of the respect and how in any moment he made me felt like a piece of meat or something. Not even the doctor had treated me this well.

"Fine. I'll let you get dressed."

Soon I was behind the curtain, taking deep breath I got dressed. I had gotten a tattoo. And wow. What a experience.

When I came down, the door was opened and I heard Daniel outside. He was talking to Lewis in whispers.

"Oh, hey." Lewis saw me. "Daniel showed me. It's beautiful. Congratulations".

I smiled and walked to them.

"I did nothing. I just waited there"

"Abi, the guy before you almost cried." Daniel touched my shoulder.

"I'll let you guys"

Lweis went back to the studio and Daniel leaned on the counter.

"Well, miss Abi" He claped his hands. "It has been a pleasure to work for you. Really. I love the tattoo, you made it easy, you worked with me... So... For real and from the bottom of my heart. Ham&Avo's door will always be opened for you. I hope you come and let me mark your skin again."

I blushed at his little speach, walking a bit closer.

"Wow. Thank you, really. I was really comfortable the whole time. Painful but not as much as I thought. And really. You are amazing. It's beautiful."

He smiled and pulled a lollipop from a drawer.

"Wash the tattoo three times a day and... This cream. Please, no sun, no beach, no pool. Not until it's healed. Count a couple of weeks. Maybe three. Anything, any doubt, just come by or text."

He wave me the cream and the lollipop.

"Well... Now. The funny part." He laughed a bit and I rolled my eyes. "150 for you"

"For me? Tell me what it really is"

"200, but I won't take more than one fifty, lady."

"Daniel..." He couldn't do this, he didn't know me.

"No. I don't want to hear anything about it"

I sighed and looked at him. He was giving me his best puppy eyes.

"Okay..."

I paid him and he walked me to the door.

"Enjoy your new piece. You look beautiful on it"

"Thank you, really"

And for the third time, I left the parlor with a big smile on my face. He was different. A bit of a cliché, but I hadn't met anyone like him.

It was when I was cleaning the tattoo that night when Molly texted me.

Molly: someone was happy to work today.

A link to Instagram came with the message. I opened it.

@.ham&avotattoo: our last piece today, beautiful Argelian ivy for a woman of herself. Thank you for the patience, three appointments and two hours of laying in the studio. Enjoy it as much as Ric enjoyed working on it.

↪️@.mollyalberts: amazing, you are welcome Ric. I convinced her.

↪️@.hopper_abigail: thank you guys, Daniel is an amazing artist.

And third part done!! Hope you liked it!! All the love is appreciated, don't be shy and tell me what you think about this fic!

Also, all the pics are taken from pinterest, you can find them on the mood board.

Next part: Deep thinking.

#daniel ricciardo #Dr #Fluff #F1 #Fic #tattooartist!au

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i-put-the-yan-in-polyandry · 3 years ago

Text

Survive the Night — Part 1

Original

Sanctuary at last.

A soft orange, bold against the dark sky, glowed from behind tall stone walls, laden with rich green ivy. The light in the dark, a splash of color on a hellish grey landscape.

Haven; the city of salvation.

...

Deep below the surface, ancient magic stirred. The earth syphoned energy from the leylines, draining the land and pumping it into a singular point. A heart.

Though it let creatures of the sky, sea, and land draw from its bounty, Teyvat existed to serve only one. Even if it had to destroy itself in the process, it would restore the master it had failed.

...

Of course, security would be tight in such a place, protecting its people and peace. Old titles meant little in an apocalypse.

"Oh my, we have quite the influent arrivals today." A familiar voice purred from the side, stepping into view of the group.

"Kaeya." Jean choked on her own tongue, voice trembling. "We— we thought you were dead."

Kaeya laughed at that, his levity out of place in the new world. "I suppose I can't blame you." He waved off the tension in the air. "No, I was blessed to be among the first called to our dear Haven here."

That caught Zhongli's attention. "Called...?" He muttered under his breath.

Kaeya glanced at the guards with a smirk. "Don't worry about this lot, I'll deal with their introduction personally."

Both women straightened with a salute. "Understood, Lord Kaeya." And they returned to their posts at the gate.

Kaeya nodded over his shoulder, motioning for the others to follow.

...

When their Divine fell, the children of Khaenri'ah felt it. They felt the stones rip into their very souls as their master's body crashed to the bottom of Teyvat.

None had wasted so much as a thought, they rushed to the call.

Now, the prince roamed the streets of their playground; a pretty smile, a comforting shoulder, a soothing voice, and an amusing quip. With his presence, the people relaxed, turned a blind eye to the horrors—after all, it was much safer here, wasn't it?

...

"I see you have come to your senses." A soft voice came from the dark. "It was a shame to see you turn your eyes."

Sucrose whipped her head around. There hadn't been anyone next to her, but there Albedo sat with a cup of tea and a book, staring her, them, down with piercing eyes.

"Mister Albedo..." was all she could say. She had no ground to stand on. After all Albedo had done for her, for all of Mondstadt, she'd labeled him a heretic like the rest. Even if she'd still been willing to accept him back, return as his assistant, she'd still abandoned him with the crowd.

She averted her eyes.

Jean, however, did not. "Albedo... it seems I, we, have a lot to apologize for." She bowed her head. "On behalf of—"

"—That won't be necessary." Albedo closed his book and rose from his chair. "Your apologies are wasted on me, there is only One who deserves them." He sent a glance to the clock. "Regardless, my required break is over, I will be returning to my work."

"W..." Sucrose took a step forward, hesitantly reaching a hand out before pulling it back to her chest. "Please wait a moment, Mister Albedo." She shifted her weight. "Perhaps I could assist you in—"

"My project is highly secretive, it would show poorly to invite a newcomer—" A worshipper of the False God, at that. "—into the Center." He gave the group one last impassive look on his way out. "It is unlikely we will see each other again, I only came to see you by Kaeya's request."

He didn't look back.

...

Within the depths of an ever changing cavern, a pale figure worked tirelessly alongside his world. Foolish, he had been, to place his faith in his blinded comrades. Now, he researched and experimented night in and night out to repent for his mistakes.

He, too, had felt the call.

He'd packed up everything important, taken the one he'd call his little sister by the hand, and followed it through the depths. Perhaps he should have been more worried, but he felt that warm guidance ease his heart with every step.

This must be what home felt like.

...

It seemed Kaeya had a busy job in Haven, they soon found, it'd been by sheer luck that he'd found them. Had it? But, even still, he'd arranged for them to have a guide.

Their group split in the morning, those desperate to just eat and eat until they couldn't anymore (a one day event given to newcomers, in order to raise their energy and spirit) and those who wished to familiarize themselves with their surroundings as soon as possible.

"Hey there!" A cheerful blond called, waving to them. "Nice to meet you, I'm Thoma. You're the newcomers, right? I don't think I've seen you before. It's always great to see new faces around."

Jean and Ningguang took the lead, straightening up. "Yes," Ningguang confirmed, "You are the guide Sir Kaeya informed us of?"

"That's right! I'll be giving you the tour of our enchanting wonderland—" He grinned, motioning to the city around them. "—well, at least when compared to everything else. The Outer Ring is probably where you'll spend your time."

"The Outer Ring?" Jean pressed, curious.

"Right!" Thoma clapped his hands together. "I should probably lead with that." He glanced side to side, as if looking for something, before pulling out a small notepad and pencil.

"Haven is comprised of a series of districts in a circular formation." He scribbled down a few circles on the pad. "We're in the Outer Ring, which is just inside the walls, most people live, work, and trade here." He moved the tip of his pencil inward. "Then here's the Inner Ring, most official processing goes on here and it's major businesses and medical facilities, but they're pretty strict on who is allowed to house there. I'm not sure on the exact qualifications, but bottom line, you need to have proven yourself in some way." He shrugged his shoulders slightly. "Anyway, if you can't get it in the Outer Ring, you can get it in the Inner Ring." He shifted his pencil to the line between. "Then there's a single street between these two districts that we just call the Ring. You can find a real variety of businesses here, and definitely somewhere cheap to sleep and get a meal."

Thoma scribbled down a few boxes outside the circle. "Outside the walls, you have the Front Districts, they're pretty scattered and I wouldn't be too surprised if you missed them. People out there have decided they don't want to live inside the city and trade what they can with us to get by."

"Is there a reason they don't just enter the city?" Jean interjected, mind already running with possibilities. Was there a housing shortage? Or perhaps Kaeya had saved them from a grueling entry process that would have left them with nothing. Or maybe—

"They don't like how things are run here." Thoma answered with a shrug. "Some wish to stay loyal to their previous leaders, others don't like the oligarchy, and there are those who simply don't like the one-way border."

Ah, so that's how it... "One way border?"

Thoma blinked owlishly, tilting his head like a puppy. "You don't know? Residents aren't allowed to leave."

...

Thoma owed a lot to the Kamisato clan. His life, his loyalty, his past and future. When they'd instructed that the Imposter Hunt Decree would be enacted with their full resources, he'd followed orders without question.

But when those orders led him to stare down a trembling figure, starved and shivering, staring at him with tearful, fearful eyes that held just a stubborn flicker of hope, he questioned.

And when he saw himself, alone, all those years ago, in those eyes, that fading but fighting will to go on, he called out to his comrades: "Nothing here."

He couldn't have known how far a little kindness would take him.

...

"Don't worry too much about it." Thoma assured them. "You're Lord Kaeya's friends and you were brought in without knowing, if you want to leave after seeing how things are done here, I'm sure we could even find you a place in the Front Districts. It's a bit harder out there, but you'll live without rule."

Something gleamed in Thoma's eye.

"But I'm sure you'll love it here! I mean, if Lord Kaeya doesn't convince you, I'm sure the rest of the council will!"

Some part of Jean wanted to go back, reverse to what she swore she saw, but she couldn't bring herself to find the words. So she clung to the next best thing. *Council? Could that be why you refer to Kaeya as Lord?"

Thoma nodded. "Yep! The council is made up of twelve people that oversee Haven and all its happenings. They provide food, assistance, shelter from the world, and they're always working to end this nightmare." He lifted up the pad again, circling around the middle. "They work out of the Center, so it's rare to see them—except for Lord Kaeya, of course. Nobody is allowed inside the center without explicit permission from the entire council. All we know for sure about it is that it's where the food is grown and the livestock is kept; it's the only place they survive." Thoma leaned in as though he were sharing a conspiratorial secret. "People say that if someone wrong goes in then it might die off like the rest of the world, so guards aren't even necessary. Though I've heard talk of ruin guards patrolling the area."

Thoma leaned back and laughed. "Though, there are tons of rumors about the council and Center. Like, one of the council members is an adeptus or ex-Harbinger, or that the place is actually a gate to Celestia. One of the more controversial ones is that the area and the council possess the last blessings of God." He shook his head. "Now, I'm not sure about that, but if anyone would have it, it'd be the Traveler, don't you think?"

"The Honorary Knight is here?"

...

Twin blondes smiled.

#felt like a good stopping point for now #sagau #self aware genshin #survive the night #genshin impact cult au

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f1tales · 2 months ago

Text

is it that sweet? i guess so - mv1

that's that me espresso || part two

previous part || next part

pairing: max verstappen x ofc!piastri

summary: oscar’s older sister is a singer, who’s taylor swift’s opening act for the eras tour. she goes to a few races on her break. she meets max; who thinks about her every night now. much to oscar’s annoyance.

face claim: sabrina carpenter

"You know people are on to us right?"

Ivy curled herself up to Max's side. She drew shapes on his chest. She looked up to meet Max's eyes. She bit her lip as she thought back to when Lando messaged her on Instagram just after the Australian Grand Prix.

She had been extrememly giddy when she entered the club for the Australian GP after party that Lando had invited her to. He had messaged her earlier about how Max wanted her number.

They had met briefly, but oh my god, Ivy was mesmerized by his deep blue eyes and adorable smile. Her hands were trembling as she made her way through the club to join Lando and his friends.

Max had been there.

And he had bought her drink, as Ivy had suggested he'd do before he went off to scold Lando for sliding in Ivy's DM's for him.

Ivy and Max ended up talking the entire night in the far corner of the VIP section of the fancy club. She decided she liked to hear him talk; she liked his accent. He had escorted her out of the club with a firm hand on the small of her back at two in the morning. He ordered a taxi for them to share and held her hand as they drove through the streets of Melbourne.

Max told the taxi driver to wait outside her building so he could walk her to the door. And okay, Ivy admits, the bar was set pretty low by her shitty exes, but it was one of the nicest things someone had done for her.

They had stood in silence for a while.

"I-," they laughed when they both spoke at the same time.

"Will you let me take you out tomorrow?" Max had asked as he held her hand.

Ivy had smiled at him, "I would. But I'm off to Perth to work on my next album." She squeezed his hand. She dropped his hand to fish a piece of paper out of her purse. She had shivered slightly; her sheer dress did nothing to keep her warm.

She had slipped the piece of paper in the pocket of his jacket. She then went to stand on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his cheek.

"Good night, Max."

Max had then shown up in Perth just a couple of days after Ivy had arrived. Supposedly to go visit Daniel on his farm, but in reality he just couldn't stop thinking about the blonde singer.

And well, the rest is pretty much history.

Max had taken her to Daniel's farm for a couple of days before having to go to Japan to meet his friends. They had a ski trip planned, Max had wanted to cancel his plans. Ivy told him to go, that he was being ridiculous.

He went, but on the condition she would join him in Japan to watch the race in Suzuka.

And here they were. In Max's hotel room. The morning light was softly filtering through the room as Ivy continued to draw shapes on his chest.

"I didn't think we were being that obvious."

Ivy looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. Max had been anything but subtle about the whole thing. Liking her Instagram posts, commenting underneath them. And then talking about how much he liked her songs on his streams.

Max pulled her on top of him. "They're gonna be even more suspiscous when you watch the race from the Red Bull garage." He pulled her down so his lips could meet hers in a kiss. "I can't wait to see Oscar having an aneurysm when he sees you in the paddock."

The singer gasped, "Max!" She playfully hit him on the shoulder. "That's my brother." She sternly looked at him.

Max simply looked at her with raised eyebrows. He placed his arms behind his head as Ivy's face cracked and a smile crept on her face.

"God, it'll be so fun to see him lose his mind."

"We don't have to walk in together," Max looked at Ivy. She was chewing on her lip, something Max noticed she did when she was nervous or stressed. He grabbed her shaking hand and intertwined their fingers.

Ivy let out a relieved sigh, "I really do want to go public at some point. I just, my last relationship was so public and I,"

"Hey, hey, you don't have to justify it or apologise for it. I would also like to keep things between us for now."

He squeezed her hand three times just before the car came to a halt. Ivy leaned up to kiss his cheek, "I'll come see you before quali."

"Counting on it!"

Max winked before he got out of the car with his backpack strapped around his shoulders. Ivy waited a respectable five minutes before entering the paddock herself; a shiny Red Bull paddock pass hanging from her neck.

part 3 coming soon.

taglist: @mastermindbaby @charlesgirl16

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1tales #divider by cafekitsune #max verstappen x reader

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yes-ihavealwaysbeengreen · 4 years ago

Note

Okay soooo I know that Oberyn is your fave, so I'm going to request our sex god of a Prince. "You'll have to make me." "Oh, is that so?" *evil laugh here* Can't wait to see what my bestie boo comes up with

A/N: I’m in love with Oberyn Martell so thank you for indulging me. :D ILY

Thank you for every reblog, comment, and like.

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x F! Reader (Little Sparrow) x Ellaria Sand

Warnings: 18 + Only (Language, domesticity, oral F! receiving, mentions of sexy times)

Masterlist

Lemon Tarts

You stood across from the three little girls, their hands on their hips, just like their father. “Obella, Dorea, Loreza,” you stern your expression, “which of you did it?”

“What do you mean, Mama?” Dorea asks with a grin; oh, the sly viper had taught his daughters well. Ellaria giggles behind, and you turn to stick your tongue out at her. “Mommy, is she well?”

“Your Mama is quite well, my love, but she wants to know which of you naughty girls took the lemon tarts from the kitchen?” They look conspiratorially between each other, and you bite your lip to stop the smile that threatens to show. “Come now,” she demands, “Which one of you did it?”

“It’s a secret,” Loreza whispers giggling, and you drop to your knees, seeing the weak link in the chain with the youngest.

“What’s the secret, my sweet Dove?” You twirl her dark curls behind her ear, and she leans into your hold, reaching out to hug you.

“Papa, said we couldn’t tell,” she whispers in your ear, and the smile breaks out across your face. “We caught him in the kitchen eating the tarts, and he shared one with us. He made us promise not to tell.” You giggle and hold her tighter to your chest, standing with her in your arms, her legs wrapping around you like a monkey.

“Loreza! Papa told us not to tell!” Obella scolds, and you look over at Ellaria with a grin.

“It seems like Papa has been getting into my sweets; what shall we do to him? I think he will need to be punished for getting into things he shouldn’t be.” You let Loreza down with a kiss on her head, and Ellaria giggles and winks at you.

“Yes, I think a punishment is in order; why don’t you go find him? He is in the training yards with the girls.” You nod and go over to grab your shawl and wrap it around your shoulders, the rain outside sending a slight chill through the palace. Obella holds your dress and pulls you down to her level, “what’s wrong, my darling?”

“Please, don’t tell Papa we said anything. We don’t want him to be angry with us,” her tiny voice shakes and she looks close to tears.

You wrap her in a big hug, “Don’t worry, my darling, your secret is safe with me.” She nods, hugging your neck tighter, which you eagerly return. Each day the girls get older, and one day, they won’t want hugs and cuddles; you must take advantage of it as long as you can. You let go and rise, leaning down to kiss Ellaria gently, smiling when she takes your bottom lip between her teeth and pulls.

“Make him pay Little Sparrow, he must know how angry you are with him. Don’t let him persuade you away with his flowery words and gentle touch.” You give her another quick kiss and a smile walking over to the training fields.

You follow the sounds of grunts and groans, watching from the upper deck at the fighters below. Nym and Obara spar in the center a deadly and delicate dance of quick footwork and fists. “Dive Nym!” Oberyn shouts from the corner, “you must be ready to anticipate her every move. Don’t let the fact that she is your sister distract you from your goal.”

Nym watches Obara closely as she circles her like a predator viewing its prey. “Now,” Oberyn coaches, “strike!” You hold your breath as Nym gets a grip on her sister and swings her to the ground, her hands coming out to brace on either side of her head, wrists pinned down. “GOOD! Well done!” he claps his hands together and walks over to the table to drink a sip of wine and pops a few berries into his mouth.

You clap your hands together, and all three pairs of eyes slowly look up to watch you leaning over the railing. “Well done, girls! You have become such fearsome warriors; you bring such glory to your family, my loves.” They smile at you and mumble, “Thank you, mama”, under their breath, both shy with the praise.

“What about me, Little Sparrow?” Oberyn shouts up at you with a smile, “no compliments for the one who trains them? You glare down at him, and his smile drops, a worried expression growing on his face.

“You are in trouble, Oberyn Martell,” he freezes, his eyes widening; you only used his name when you were cross with him. “I know your secret, and I am here to make you pay.”

“And what pray tell, is this indiscretion I’ve committed, my love?” The girls look between the two of you and quickly realize this is something they don’t want to miss. It takes everything you have not to giggle when they walk over to the table and grab a glass of wine and watch between the two of you like a drama at the theater.

“It would seem that the lemon tarts I’ve spent hours baking are all gone. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” To his credit, he does look concerned for a moment before he slips on that charming smile, the one you can’t possibly resist.

He gives a nervous chuckle and rubs the back of his head, “I wouldn’t know anything about that Little Sparrow; maybe some snakes got into the kitchen and took off with your treats. Come down here, and we can talk about it further.” He flicks his wrist down to the spot in front of him, and you scoff.

“You’ll have to make me.”

“Oh, is that so?” You nod, and he sighs, removing his outer coat and leaving him shirtless; the golden chain around his neck glistens, his sun-kissed skin making you weak. The girls quickly stand, taking their cups and leave out the side door. “If you won’t come to me, then I guess I will need to come to you.” He walks over to the large column and begins to scale the wall, hands intertwined in the wild ivy growing around the stone.

“Are you out of your mind?!” you step closer to the column, reaching a hand out for him.

He stops before your outstretched hand and puts a hand to his chest with a dramatic sigh, “my Little Sparrow, love of my life, please forgive me for eating your delicious lemon tarts. They were positively perfect; I couldn’t resist.”

You put your hands on your hips knowing precisely what he’s doing. “Are you doing something rather dangerous so that I won’t be cross with you anymore?” He grins, and you scoff, “you’re insane; I should have married the baker’s son. Then I could have had lemon tarts, and a sane man warm my bed every night!” You yelp as he swings a leg over the banister and turn, running down the hall, Oberyn hot on your heels.

You turn the corner and barrel past servents who giggle as you make your way back in the direction of Ellaria and the girls. The youngest giggle when you scream around the corner, coming to stand behind Ellaria. Oberyn grasps the table and fakes left and right, trying to anticipate your every move. “Papa!” Loreza shouts, watching, “what are you doing?”

He laughs, reaching for you as you move out from behind Ellaria and try to sneak past him. “It doesn’t seem like your quest has been successful, Sparrow,” Ellaria teases, looking up at you from her book. “It seems like our Prince has the upper hand right now.” You try to run past him, but he grabs you with a shriek and tosses you over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry little ones, but Mama thought it was a good idea to tease Papa.” You hit his back, and he slaps your ass.

“What did Mama tease you about?” Ellaria smiles behind the hand covering her mouth, and you try to look around him to flip her the bird.

“She said she wished she’d married someone else besides Papa. Can you believe that, my little Princesses?” You can’t see the girls, but their shrieks of laughter make you smile.

“That’s silly!” Dorea jumps up and down, “Papa is the best man there is!”

You can hear the smile in his voice, “thank you, Princess Dorea, now Papa has to go and remind Mama why she married him, and not,” his voice drops an octave, “some baker’s son.” He turns and you lift your head, reaching a hand out to Ellaria, who shakes her head with a laugh.

“See you later, my love,” she shouts with a wave, the little girls waving goodbye as they jump around and giggle.

There is not much dignity when you’re carried over your lover’s shoulder to be punished, and you try to avoid eye contact with everyone you pass—sighing in relief when the doors to your chamber close behind him, yelping as he tosses you on the bed. Oberyn stands above you, still shirtless, still handsome, but with a darkened glint in his eyes.

He reaches out for you and quickly undresses you, peering down at you with a hunger that no lemon tart would satisfy. He spreads your legs, his big hands sliding up your thighs. “What was it you said, Little Sparrow?” your breath catches as he settles himself before your juicy cunt, “you should have married the baker’s son, so you could have all the lemon tarts you wanted an a-” he draws one thick finger through your folds. “-a sane man warm your bed? Let me remind you what that baker’s son could not do for you, my love.”

He spends the next several hours reminding you why you chose to be with him over all others. His devotion to your body is unmatched as he makes you cum with his tongue, fingers, cock, and all over your chambers. There’s a pleasant ache between your legs, and the perspiration glows on your skin. The moonlight streams through the open window. Oberyn’s weight is comfortable as his arm is slung across your waist, lips kissing a trail down your shoulder and back up to your ear. “I think we broke our record,” he teases, sucking your ear lobe into his warm mouth.

You turn and smile, giving him a languid kiss, “yes, you seemed to be quite motivated.”

“Can you blame me?” he kisses the end of your nose, “you told me you wished to marry another. You’re mine; I needed to prove it.” You giggle and kiss him again, both of you turning when the door swings open. Ellaria walks inside, and you are struck with how gorgeous she is, her breasts spilling over the edges of her dress like a delicious wrapped present.

“I have a gift for you,” she smiles, presenting a plate from behind her back, a single lemon tart in the center. “The girls and I have been working for hours, trying to get it just right.”

You clap your hands, not caring that the sheet slips down your body as you coo in delight. “I can’t wait to taste it!” She grins and hands you the dish, your mouth watering as she strips out of her clothes and pulls the sheet away. Her necklace and bracelets click as she spreads your legs and settles between them, Oberyn reaching a hand out to palm your breast. You take a bite of the tart and moan at the perfect combination of tart and sweet, but the moans quickly turn to something else as Ellaria licks your pussy.

“Wh-what are you d-doing?” you stutter the crumbs from the tart sprinkling down your chest, Oberyn eagerly surging forward to lick and suck them from your skin.

“Our Prince got to remind you why you chose him, but I wanted to make sure you truly know what you would be missing if you married that Baker’s son. See, I even made you lemon tarts,” she smiles before resuming her kitten licks on your clit, her nails trailing over your hips.

And fuck, do you never forget.

Taglist: @chicken-ona-stick @agirllovespancakes @ghostwiththemostbitch @the-purity-pen @paintballkid711 @wasicskosgirl @fantasticcopeaglepasta @sarahjkl82-blog @boxdyeblonde @rosiefridayrogersunday @yeah-seems-legit @mimimi-stuff @ladyblogger-margie @memyselfandellasworld @peterhollandkait @itspdameronthings @emmy626 @luv-nd-serenity @randomness501 @littlebopper96 @alexmarie29 @hell-is-my-second-home666 @thisshipwillsail316 @madslorian @no-droids-on-sunday @glixxr @sfr99 @pedro-pastel @we-can-be-himbos @sleep-tight1 @sarhabee @its--fandom--darling @im-an-adult-ish @princess76179 @demoncrypt1066 @jedi-mando @idreamofboobear @aerolanya @rebelliouscat @veracruz-djarin @marvelprincess1994 @thirstworldproblemss @spacelatinoss @martellthemandalor @kesskirata @waatermelon-sugaar @jitterbugs927 @helga1031 @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @anetteaneta @aellynera @lucifer- @houseofthirst @phoenixhalliwell @lunarthoughts

Pedro Pascal Taglist: @lycheemi @purplepascal042 @poubxlle @dreamer-101 @thewayofthemandalorian @omlwhatamidoinghere @linkpk88 @josepedropascal @mrschiltoncat @mrsparknuts @zannemes @xjaywritesx @mandocrest @petersunderoos96 @notabotiswear @mando-amando @lv7867 @mudhorn-djarin19 @ka-x-in @sleep-tight1 @freeshavocadoooo @dinner-djarin @mssbridgerton @prideandpascal @theflightytemptressadventure @notabotiswear @Pintsizemama @pascal-rascal424 @allmahfeels @the-ginger-hedge-witch @soyelfuegoquearde @northernpunk @clydesducktape @a-skov @darnitdraco @spideysimpossiblegirl @jediknight122

Oberyn Martell Taglist: @theatricalbride @meshlamando @seasonschange-butpeopledont @blufanfictionthings @queenbbarnes @talesfromtheguild @rpcvliz @evyiione @browneyes-djarin @lips-for-you @midnightzonzz

#Oberyn Martell #Ellaria Sand #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #Oberyn Martell x reader #Ellaria Sand x reader #Oberyn Martell x reader x Ellaria Sand #Little Sparrow #Female Reader #Game of Thrones

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the-stray-storyteller · 2 years ago

Text

Defenders : Chapter 5

Warning: Bullying, and being unhappy with the way you look (I can't fricking remember the word), slight language

Chapter 1 Chapter 4 Chapter 6

______________________________________________________________

1 Week

Location : Middle Village, Queens

Ivy let out an annoyed groan when nothing came out of the foundation bottle no matter how much she squeezed it. She still had to cover up the ghastly amount of freckles on her arms. She looked into the bathroom mirror, a sigh escaping her body. Even after a couple of months of learning how to wear foundation the twelve-year-old still couldn’t get it right. She wasn’t sure if it was the shade of the foundation, the brand or just her skill; she couldn’t get it to look right on her skin. She threw the empty bottle into the dustbin and walked out of the bathroom.

“Hey, at least there was enough in the bottle to cover up my face,” she mumbled, pulling out the first full-sleeved baggy shirt she could find in her closet, “ I can’t exactly cover my face with clothing now can I?” She grabbed her school bag and walked down the stairs. She let her eyes trail the frames on the wall. PhD certificates belonging to both her mom and dad, photos, drawings she made when she was three and every single blue ribbon she won. Ivy let her eyes linger on a picture of her mom for a few seconds, tracing her happy smile and chasing the memory behind the image. She could smell the tang of citrus fruit coming from the kitchen.

Her eyes strayed to the newspaper on the dining table, she didn’t bother to read it.

“Mornin’ dad.” Ivy let out a small smile, watching her dad pour her a glass of freshly made orange juice. Her dad looked up and his smile lasted only a couple of seconds. The corners of his mouth turned down into a frown when he noticed that she had covered up her freckles. Ethan Lynn was quick to hide the frown disguising it with a smile and pushing his thick glasses up his nose . Ivy made herself a bowl of cereal, shoving spoonfuls into her mouth. She chugged down the orange juice, pushed her glasses up her nose and took a deep breath forcing herself out of the door.

She waited for her school bus, fingers fiddling with the straps on her bag. Her hair fell in front of her face, she didn’t push it away. The morning was cold, with only a couple of streams of sunlight passing through the clouds. The bus was crowded. Most people weren’t awake yet and had slept off with their heads against the window. The boy beside Ivy was reading an article on his phone about the Enhanced, the mutated super-powered human beings. The title ‘Should They Be Contained?’ was staring at her in bold letters. Ivy craned her neck slightly to see more of what was written. With a lot of difficulties, she caught a couple of words like dangerous, unpredictable and power hungry before the boy switched to youtube.

That's when the bus stopped and she climbed in. Ivy would never forget that day. The girl’s footsteps were unnervingly silent. Her shoulders squared and dark eyes scanned everybody. The students turned away from her gaze. Everyone shifted awkwardly making sure there was no place left on their seats. Jealousy twisted in Ivy’s chest. It wasn’t fair that this girl was so confident on her first day.

“Are you a boy?” Someone’s mocking shout reached her ears. The girl’s short pudding-coloured hair was misleading. She turned her head towards the sound. Ivy waited eagerly for some sort of anger or insult to flash across her face but nothing came.

“No. I identify as a female.” Her voice was flat. The jealousy turned to spite.

Ivy stared at the girl searching for any sort of emotion. Her face was unreadable like a rock. The type of unreadable that reminded Ivy of Captain Ray Holt from Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Ivy stared a little too long, the girl had made her way to Ivy’s seat and Ivy had forgotten that the seat next to hers was empty. She sat down. Ivy turned her head towards the window trying her best to ignore her.

“Hello.” The same flat voice, Ivy wondered who she was talking to. She felt a tap on her shoulder.

The girl was talking to her. Shit.

“Hello,” she repeated this time waving stiffly.

“Hi. Ivy Lynn.” Ivy turned back to the window not wanting to continue the conversation any further. The girl however did not take the hint and continued to speak. She had started talking about the reviews the school had gotten. Her sentences were short and cut to the point. Ivy listened and nodded out of politeness. A head turned back from the seat in front of her. The boy’s smile was lopsided and Ivy shrunk into her seat knowing what would happen now.

“Don’t waste your time on her, idiot can’t spell things properly and probably can’t understand you either.” Ivy felt the cold laugh of his peers sink into her. The girl was probably judging her now. Ivy imagined her cold eyes glinting with amusement and a laugh starting to bubble at the base of her throat. She put her head down feeling her heartbeat start to increase and the walls starting to cave in. Ivy swallowed hard trying to prepare herself for the inevitable mockery.

“Hello, what is your name?” Ivy’s head snapped up at the polite greeting.

“Liam Quinn, yours?”

“Ren Weiting.” The way she had said her name sounded like her tongue was foreign to the syllables. Her last and first names didn’t match in Ivy’s head properly. Liam hummed in thought.

“Why don’t you sit with us, Ren?” He pointed at the free seat next to him.

“The bus driver told me not to get up while we were moving.”

“It really doesn't matter. Bus is moving slower than a snail anyways.”

“I would rather not get into trouble.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged but continued to talk with her. Ivy sank into her seat again, happy to be ignored. Occasionally she would eavesdrop on their conversation. A very one-sided conversation led by Liam. But the girl talked enough for Ivy to find out she was older than the ten-year-old by two years and she had been homeschooled. Liam kept talking non-stop and if Ivy didn’t know any better Ren seemed a bit lost. When the bus stopped she quickly ran away, hiding in the crowd of students.

English had Ivy in tears. The first problem was the substitute teacher’s handwriting, she was not used to it. When she finally managed to read all the topics the teacher came and scolded her for wasting time. Now her page was covered in scratch marks and illegible handwriting making Ivy think that a chicken with ink-covered feet had danced all over her page. She angrily scratched out another word she believed that she had spelt wrong. The frustration sent her mind into a volatile state. Her fingers rapped on the table earning annoyed looks from the people sitting next to her. She bit the inside of her cheek, feeling the skin peel off slightly. Ivy could feel the teacher’s disapproving stare at her, she could feel the teacher ready to get up and yell at her once again this time louder. Ivy looked over the rim glasses, the teacher's shape blurry to her eyes. She could barely make out the teacher slowly getting up from her seat even so she could feel the searing touch of her livid gaze on her skin. Ivy bolted up before the teacher could open her mouth.

“Washroom!” It came out quickly and louder than she had expected.

“May I use the washroom?” She tried again, going for a slower and gentler tone. The teacher raised an eyebrow, keeping Ivy waiting for an answer. Ivy felt her body relax when the teacher pulled out a hall pass from her desk. She covered her sheet making sure no one could peek in and see her messy work and made her way to receive the hall pass.

She splashed the cold water on her face, silently wondering which stall she would hide in. Ivy didn’t usually try to avoid school like this most of the time she did her best. Today however was just a bad day. First, her foundation had gotten over. Then someone spilled water all over her. After that, a student had borrowed her homework to copy it and never gave it back so she could submit it. Now that thief was nowhere to be found and her teacher was angry at her. She splashed her face once again and looked down into the sink only to see peach-coloured water run down the drain.

“Didn’t I buy a waterproof foundation?” She muttered. Ivy put her glasses back on and looked in the mirror. The foundation was now patchier than before and her hair was all over the place.

“Which asshole said redheads look good?” Ivy patted her frizzy nest-like hair down with water trying to tame it as much as possible.

“Beauty is both an opinion and a relative term.” Ivy heard a scream, it might have been her own. It was probably her own seeing that no one else was over here. Her head whipped towards one of the closed stalls. How long had that door been closed again?

“Who’s there?” Ivy heard a latch come undone and Ren stepped out from the stall.

“How long have you been there?”

“About twenty-five minutes,” the girl took small steps towards her, “I don’t like Liam.” Her sentences were short and honest. Ivy didn’t know much about her. She didn’t know what Liam had done to make an enemy. However, she did know that no girl who spent twenty-five minutes in the school’s bathroom was okay. Ivy walked to the corner and sunk down to the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest. The silence was uncomfortable. Ivy could hear water dripping from a leaky tap. The bathroom had a distant smell of tobacco. Ren stood still observing her silently. Ivy had first labelled her stillness as overconfidence but now there was something tense about it. Something that seemed to push against the thick atmosphere. Her stillness was not poise, it was obliviousness and confusion. Ivy bit her cheek trying to push back a glad smile. This girl was most likely just as much as nervous as herself. Ivy patted the floor on her side. Ren sat down, the cowlicks in her hair flattening against the wall.

“I am not stupid, just so you know.” Ivy started she didn’t want the girl to think anything else. She would have to explain her condition to her.

“I know, you wouldn’t be in high school if you were. I have observed that Liam Quinn tends to take the vaguest understanding of a concept and derive a false conclusion from it. Is it a learning disability?” Ivy kept completely still processing the way Ren talked.

“Mild dyslexia.” Ren hummed in response. Ivy waited for her to say something, waiting for her to start a conversation. Ren kept her mouth shut. Ivy concluded that she would have to do it. She went through her memories trying to grasp any information about Ren on which she could start a conversation. Ren was homeschooled, wasn’t she?

“What do you think of school?”

“One observation will leave space for errors and won’t give an accurate reading.” Ivy suppressed another smile, this girl was a weirdo like her.

“I suppose it does not,” Ivy wracked her brains for something else, “Okay why are you in the bathroom?” Ivy wanted to take the words back, they were a little too straightforward.

“I don’t know what to do.” A straightforward answer to a straightforward question.

“Good idea coming to the bathrooms then. It's a good escape.” Ivy turned her head towards the younger and found Ren staring at her. Ren brought up her hand and pushed Ivy’s glasses up her nose. Ivy touched her glasses gently, not sure how to respond to the gesture.

“Thanks. I guess?”

Ivy tried again for a conversation, taking note of how she was the one who had to keep it going. She observed how Ren would only talk when she was questioned. She would always give short answers, to the point and never deviating from the topic. Just like her answers Ivy needed to ask specific questions. Ivy really couldn’t tell how much Ren liked her but she was starting to like the ten-year-old.

They talked for what seemed like forever. They talked in the school’s bathroom, sitting on the floor with their backs against the wall. They missed several periods and the sound of the school bell. Ren let out smiles at Ivy’s jokes. Ivy showed polite yet genuine laughs at Ren’s slightly stiff ones. They stopped when a girl in her senior year stepped into the bathroom. Her mouth curled up in disgust at the sight of the two girls. Her eyes traced Ivy’s figure eyeing her full-sleeved dress. “Aren’t you a little too fat for that?” She pointed at Ivy. Behind her, the students rushing towards the cafeteria could be heard. Ivy got ready to walk away but Ren spoke up.

“Why did you get reprimanded for ‘vulgar actions’ by my science teacher in the corridor?” The girl opened and closed her mouth, unable to answer the question. Ren on the other hand asked it as if it were a perfectly innocent question. Ivy snorted, immediately clasping a hand over her mouth. Ren’s stomach growled loudly and Ivy used it as an excuse. “I think we need to get to the cafeteria before they are left with only scraps.” She grabbed Ren and pulled her out of the washroom.

The moment they stepped out, they were pulled towards the cafeteria by the sea of students. Ivy heard Ren’s stomach growl loudly again. Ivy let out a small laugh.

“Didn’t take you for a person with such an appetite.” Ren was petite for her age. She looked even smaller in that oversized team jacket she was wearing, the name Aloisi printed on the back. The thing was old and worn out. Ivy wondered who it belonged to.

“Didn’t eat breakfast today.”

“What? Why?”

“I was in a hurry.”

“Okay let's go get you some lunch then.” She looped her arms through the younger’s and dragged her awkwardly to lunch.

Ivy closed the door to her house with her foot. Her feet brushed against the soft carpet. The smell of the flowers she had planted outside lingered in the hallway. She heard the crunch of the newspaper from inside. Her dad had stayed home today.

“You home gardener?”

“Ye!” Ivy yelled back smiling at her nickname. She rushed into the living room and wrapped her hands around her dad, locking him in a hug.

“Do you mind getting some tomatoes from the garden? I was thinking we could have soup for dinner.”

“Of course.”

The garden was a familiar place to her. The feel of the damp soil on her hands, the touch of the afternoon sun on her neck and the smell of fertiliser. Her mom had helped her make it and her mom used to help in keeping it in top condition. The backyard garden was her safe place. Repotting plants and watering the roots always calmed her nerves. She knelt near the tomatoes and brought her hand up to one. Ivy frowned. She could see green and orange patches and they weren’t nearly as big as she wanted them to be. Ivy liked to wait for her plants to grow by themselves but she also wanted to have her dad’s famous tomato soup for dinner. Maybe bring some for Ren the next day.

Ivy pressed her hand down into the soil, letting her fingers slip into it and closed her eyes. She let the world fade away and she felt the energy of the plant flowing up her fingers like a little stream of water. She spoke to it softly under her breath asking the tomatoes to grow. When she opened her eyes the unripe tomatoes had turned plump and red. The plants had grown half a foot taller and the grass around her feet had become wilder.

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saphirered · 4 years ago

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Hi! I really love the stuff you've been writing for Molly!! It's so engaging and really sweet and makes me smile really wide, so thank you for that! If you're still taking requests, could I request a romantic Molly x Reader who's a druid/bard multiclass? Who has the same vibes as a Disney princess? I hope you have a great day and I can't wait to see what you write next!!

Aw shucks thank you so much ☺️. I hope this is to your liking. Enjoy 😘

The parade to draw people into the carnival was coming to an end. You were almost back at the tent and had gathered a proper crowd to watch the night’s show. Along the way you did your acrobatics and used some druidcraft to create little flowers in the palm of your hand or letting colourful floral vines bloom throughout your hair and attire. The whole look made you appear like an ethereal creature from the Feywild, perhaps even at the Seelie Court itself.

Children giggle as you wave at them, snowflakes fall only to melt before they reach the ground. Dancing around you had fun and eventually found your ‘Fire Faerie’ friend. Together you twist and turn in a carefully practiced routine. A cloud of petals floats around you until Orna sets them ablaze, the embers blowing up in the breeze with a soft casting of Gust from you. People laugh and cheer as you both curtsied and move on your way through the crowd.

You find Molly juggling his iridescent shimmering scimitars. Announcing your presence you dance around him just barely out of reach from the sharp blades. He nearly drops one in surprise, not expecting you to step so close but recovers quickly and it seems either no one noticed or they expected it to be part of the act. He sends you a half smile and a wink as you twist and turn around him avoiding the blades by a hair’s width humming a sweet melody. Gasps came from the people around as you narrowly avoid the scimitar from cutting through you like butter.

You stop and take a slower pace to fall back a little bit, run and with the momentum, leap onto Molly’s shoulders in a handstand as he continued to walk. You let a couple of the flowery vines weave into his horns as he laughs and you flip over landing ahead of him. Looking over your shoulder you blow him a kiss with a wink as he continues juggling. You continue your routine with the song, the melody turning into a beautiful song people follow behind you as if you were the piped piper. Each time you take your next step you leave behind a path of colourful wildflowers.

Toya had been feeling a bit under the weather so, you were to take over her act for the night. All dressed in flowy chiffons of greens, blues, purple and golds held together by felted vines and silk flowers, glittery exaggerated makeup, hair braided and teased you’re ready to take on your role. Your devil at your side usual clothes exchanged for dark ashen robes and features contoured in such a way to give him an even more devilishly handsome look.

“And our next story, comes from far away. The fires of hell know one loyal to Zariel herself! A trickster, traitor and danger to all. One should know better than make a deal with this devil…” You hear from behind the curtain Gustav begins your introduction.

“That’s my cue. Let’s give them a show worth remembering.” Molly kisses your knuckles before his lips meet yours and he’s off by the time you open your eyes. Taking a few deep breaths you wait for the ‘story’ to continue.

“They say a devil’s heart cannot be tamed. They must never have met the Summer Princess! Blessed from the Feywild, what is beautiful is most dangerous and they are no exception. The Summer Princess walks among the Seelie Courts but those who pay careful attention may just hear their song. Be warned, they are much more treacherous than the devil…” Peaking through the curtain just so no one can see you focus on the support beams of the tent and begin casting your spell. Blooming vines creep up the beams wrapping around, flowers drape down. Petals begin to fall down from the ceiling provided by the Knot Sisters from the shadows. You hear gasps as people look around.

You see Molly walk around, sword dragging in the dirt as you hear him growl at the plants. Time to sing and sing you do.

The people look around as you tend to the flowers near one post ‘oblivious’ of the presence ‘in your garden’. You interact with some of the people in the front row offering them smiles and making flowers sprout around where they sit, offer an airy touch of the cheek of the poor individuals entranced by your song, unable to keep their eyes off you as they cling onto every word.

Your song speaks of the beauties of the Feywild. Making use of your training you belt. Birds fly into the tent, swirling around you, the devil watching, his face turning from anger to bewilderment as he sticks to the shadows. You reach your hand to the sky mimicking the melody of the songbirds. Stretching your arms to the side one by one they land. You let them sing replying in a song of your own as if you’re having a conversation with them.

Molly steps out from the shadows and into the light around you. You hear whispers from the audience ‘watch out’, ‘he’s behind you’ and ‘the devil is coming for the princess’. You continue your song walking along the audience, birds still resting on your arms as you sing with them. Next you turn the edge of the blade of ‘the devil’ is pointed at you and you act surprised, your song stopping for just a moment.

“What are you?” Molly growls showing his fangs as he does fully committing to his role. You can’t help but hide a smile. Such a lover of theatrics.

“I’m the Summer Princess and you, handsome devil are in my garden.” You sing, the blade drops a little before it raises closer to you.

“Do not think you can charm me, wild enchantress.” You hum to the birds and they give a reply.

“I charm only those willing to listen to my song. Are you willing, handsome devil of mine, walking in my garden.” You harmonise with the birds. They leap into flight circling around you and Molly closer and closer until you’re standing toe to toe.

“Your song is sweeter than temptation, more treacherous than this devil’s words.” You move your hand to stroke his cheek as you do flowers and vines similar to the ones in your hair begin growing in his much like a crown. You may have overdone it a bit but Molly would see later what piece of art you left for him to remind him of your act.

“Then join me handsome devil, and let the wildflowers keep our secret.” You tilt your head as if you were going to kiss him speaking the last words. You step back, hand outstretched looking at him with bright eyes. Molly’s hand stretches out towards you as you set pack.

“Come with me, my handsome devil.” You sing as he begins following you with slow paces. Gustav comes around once more.

“And so the Summer Princess tames the heart of their handsome devil. Their charm never fails and they are as treacherous as they are beautiful still. Take care to stay out of their garden or you might just end up like their handsome devil…”

————————————————————————

After a successful evening show you sit at the camp attempting to remove the vines and flowers from your hair and clothes. They look beautiful but are an absolute hell to get rid of and leaving them in isn’t really an option. As far as you could tell you successfully got rid of all the vines and flowers without harming the delicate silk greens, purples blues and yellow golds of your show costume which left you with your hair.

Not even half way through with the moon high in the sky you give up with an exasperated sigh and let yourself fall backwards onto the soft grass. Most of the others had gone to bed already or found the bottom of a bottle so you’d find no help there. The calmness and quiet of starry night brings comfort to your mind and you start to drift off a bit. Your ears still manage to catch the familiar footfalls approaching you and your pile of discarded flowers. What you didn’t expect was about a hand or two full of flowers hitting you in the face.

Opening your eyes you saw Mollymauk standing above you with half grin. By the looks of him he had attempted to get the flowers from earlier out of his hair but struggled just as much as you had and given up halfway through. He hadn’t gone about it as carefully as you though so the purple knotted mess sticking out at odd angles made him look rather funny and you stifle a giggle as you get to your feet. He puts his hands on his hips.

“You think this is funny? I swear, if I didn’t know any better I’d really believe Gustav’s story, you little Archfey!” He speaks exasperated as you pulled away some ivy circled around one of his horns with a laugh dropping it with the pile you had created.

“Of course I think it’s funny, my handsome devil.” You patted his cheek and took one of his hands with your free one pulling him with you to sit down on the grass. Kneeling in front of him you begin untangling the vines and removing the flowers using your fingers to brush through, carefully pick apart and untangle the mess he had created. Once you are done and just brushing through his hair making sure you didn’t miss anything and to get it back to its usual state he takes your hands and presses a delicate kiss to your palms.

“Turn around?” The words come out more as a question but you do and sit between his legs as he starts carefully detangling the vines from your own hair muttering a sorry and kissing your shoulder every time he either has to or accidentally pulls on your hair to take them out. It took him a while but eventually all the vines and flowers are gone and you’re just sat, leaning back against him, listening to sounds of the early early morning and the faint light barely visible from the town you’re set up outside off in the fields.

Molly’s arms wrap around your waist and his head leaning on your shoulder as he hums a tune all too familiar to you. You elbow his stomach looking at him with a fake scowl. He kisses your scowl away and begin humming along with him, a flock of birds dancing overhead as you do. Surrounded by warmth and comfort you both slowly let the exhaustion consume you as the first lights of dawn draw upon the horizon.

#critical role x reader #mighty nein x reader #mollymauk x reader #critrole x reader

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