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orphicpoieses · 2 years ago

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A giant tag game response...

In the last several weeks, I've been tagged by multiple people for tag games, including some games even multiple times. So, instead of just creating a post for each and every tag I got, I decided to go deeply insane by creating one giant post in which I will answer each and every one.

For all of this, I am tagging: @enchantress-of-words @mirrorthoughts @leafamaranth @blind-the-winds @writingpotato07 @writingbyricochet @j-1173 @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @eli-writes-sometimes @lockejhaven @365runesofwriting @thetruearchmagos @yourfriendlywriter @moonlitinks

Wish me luck.

Okay, so first, let's start with the game I got the most tags for: Heads Up, Seven Up. I've been tagged by @primroseprime2019 (not quite as Heads Up, Seven Up, but Seven Snippets, Seven People), @mariahwritesstuff, @thetruearchmagos and @howlingbreeze. Thanks to you all for tagging me 💕

Since I got the tag, I nearly wrote 30k words on my current project. Sadly, I cannot share any lines with you, so here is an older snippet of mine and I hope, you forgive me for being so mysterious with my WIPs...

This belongs to a snippet for Celestials. I have this one in my drafts for about three to four months now, unsure, if I should continue. So, please, leave some feedback, if you want to read on or not! It would really help me out!💕

His strides were long as he ran down the hallway to the stairwell. "I said you should go away!", Conan growled behind him, but he ignored the archdemon, who followed him angrily. Their voices were already echoing through the door of Asra's apartment and before she could get up from the couch, there was a vigorous knock on the wood. "Asra!" His soft voice got through to her and brought back memories that she actually wanted to forget. Tears welled up in her eyes and even though no one saw her, she hastily turned away. "Get out of here!", Conan growled again and for a moment it seemed as if the two uninvited visitors were at each other's throats. Asra hastily wiped away the tears and stood up. If he didn't listen to Conan, then to her if she was about to send him away.

Next is 10 Songs, 10 People, tagged by @darthenra. Shuffle your music and share the first ten songs.

Looking Back by Satoshi Takebe

We're in the club now by Michael Giacchino

Shine my shoes by Robbie Williams

We are the people by Empire of the Sun

Dream Glow by BTS & Charli XCX

Unbroken by Arealie Brighton

Mayweather by Maître Gims

Mehr Davon by Tim Benzko

Destruction by TSFH

Steel on Steel by Jeremy Soule

Also from @darthenra, the Four Main Character tag. Describe four characters in your WIP that are not your protagonist.

Sadly, I cannot answer this, since my project is a mystery.

The next game is Get to know me, tagged by @eli-writes-sometimes.

3 Ships: I only got one and that's Crowley X Aziraphale.

Last Song: Heat Waves by Glass Animals

Last Movie: A Pale Blue Eye (Rewatch, because it is so good!)

Currently Consuming: The series Designated Survivor.

Currently Craving: Summertime vibes, beach waves and surf lessons

And last but not least: The OC Songs Tag by @writingbyricochet 💕

I will not name the OCs (yes, multiple!), but here are 5 songs with a that make me feel very close to them and just have the right vibes. Usually, I resonate with the complete lyrics, but because this would otherwise end in a much much longer post that I want to, I just give a snippet of the lyrics. Just google the songs, if you are interested in the soundtrack in my head 😁

Open Your Eyes - UNSECRET & Alaina Cross

Open your eyes Now is the time All that you know is changing Open your eyes Into the light There is a world that's waiting

I know where your secrets hide - Klergy feat. Katie Garfield

Bite your lip Taste your lies I write your name in circles Strike the fear Where the dark lies Where you are, your sins will follow Shadows come into the light I know where your secrets hide

Heat Waves - Glass Animals

I just wonder what you're dreaming of When you sleep and smile so comfortable I just wish that I could give you that That look that's perfectly unsad Sometimes, all I think about is you Late nights in the middle of June Heat Waves been faking me out Can't make you happier now

Would I lie to you - Nico Santos

Shadow in the dark, shadow in the dark I know what you've been through Trouble in your heart, trouble in your heart Where no one's ever been to I know you've been hurt before Don't want you to hurt no more Let me get to you

Dirty Hands (Gone Mad) - Kendra Dantes

Look in my eyes, they lie Went to hell a couple of times Can't say I don't try, I tried Now there's nowhere left to hide Now it's done, I'm undone Everything that I've become Let me show you my darkness It's dark, yeah

And that's it! All the tags I recently got, collected in one post!

If you read everything, let me thank you with my whole heart. It means a lot to me. I also appreciate likes, comments and reblogs and don't forget to tell me your opinion on the Orphic Daydreams and wether or not I should continue them.

Giving you all a nice hug and see you in the next giant post 💕🌈

#tag games #writeblr tag games #writeblr #wip: wings of fate #writing #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writerblr #writerscommunity #writerscorner #writersociety #writblr #literature

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obsessivelollipoplalala · 2 years ago

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11 & 15🥰

11. 3 books that you would recommend everyone to read

Why Does He Do That? Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling Men by Lundy Bancroft

Every woman should read this book--yes everyone in general, but especially every woman (and most especially the celebrity wife beater stans online). It's eye-opening, incredibly informative, written in a way that's really blunt and straightforward, and probably the most important non-fiction book I've ever read.

2. The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood

Do I even need to talk about our post-Dobbs reality in America to sell you on this book? I never watched the show and from what I heard, they changed a lot, but all I can say is that the original book is excellent, takes misogyny seriously as a system of oppression in a way not many other books considered "classics" do, and people who mock women for loving it are anti-feminists who should jump off a bridge <3

3. Night by Elie Wiesel

There are, of course, other Holocaust memoirs out there which people should read, but this one is readily available and it really is one of those memoirs that I think everyone should read (I'd love to read the original version that was far longer and written in Yiddish, but alas, no one has translated it).

There are other great books that I love and think are even important, but in terms of what I would recommend to everyone because I think everyone should read them? Yeah, this is what I came up with. There are some essays that I think everyone should read, too, but that wasn't the question. I can come up with less depressing answers, too, if you want lol

15. 3 quotes that have a special place in your life

I don't know how to define something having a "special place" in my life, but I can think of some which have stuck with me. I'll have to resist dropping all Sondheim lyrics here lol. Just know that I can make a whole list of Sondheim lyrics which I feel have shaped my personality at this point.

"You're so nice. You're not good, you're not bad, you're just nice. I'm not good, I'm not nice, I'm just right. I'm the witch. You're the world."--from Into the Woods by Stephen Sondheim

2. “Male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? Up on a pedestal or down on your knees, it's all a male fantasy: that you're strong enough to take what they dish out, or else too weak to do anything about it. Even pretending you aren't catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy: pretending you're unseen, pretending you have a life of your own, that you can wash your feet and comb your hair unconscious of the ever-present watcher peering through the keyhole, peering through the keyhole in your own head, if nowhere else. You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. You are your own voyeur.”-- Margaret Atwood

3. "You won’t ever know the worst that happened to Nicole Brown Simpson in her marriage, because she is dead and cannot tell you. And if she were alive, remember, you wouldn’t believe her."--Andrea Dworkin

Send me random questions from this list

#sorry if some of this is intense lol #but I'm a very political person #replies #Anonymous

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ivystjamess · 4 years ago

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WHEN IVY RECEIVED THE EMAIL that the spring show would be spring awakening, her gut told her ‘i can’t do this show.’ eventually, her brain kicked in and told her that was a stupid thought, and she settled on the idea of playing martha. she had a couple of great moments and an emotional story ivy knew she could pull off. additionally, martha’s story was one she could portray without risking her own emotional well being. . .like she might with lead roles such as wendla. as far as ivy was concerned, it was a pretty great plan! that was until she called to share it with her dad. first, he laughed. then, when jesse st.james realized his youngest co-production was being serious, he had no hesitations reminding her just what her last name was. jesse dismissed ivy’s fabricated excuse of girls like molly pearce, margot stanley, or kenna giardi going for the lead and assured her that going for wendla was the right choice. or the only one. between the sting of disappointing her parents or directly causing herself distress, in a heartbeat, ivy would take the latter. so it was settled. come wednesday, ivy would walk into the tibideaux theater, chin held high, resume in hand, and eye on the prize that was wendla bergmann.

auditioning, to ivy, was a science that began long before stepping on stage in front of a director. step one was research of the show and material selection. and step two was rehearsal. typically, ivy would tirelessly run through her song and monologue with her parents or friends, but considering her parents were busy in new york with hello dolly! rehearsals and most of her relationships were currently on the rocks, it looked a little different for this show. this go around, she opted to recording herself on her phone and picking apart her performance, facetiming her parents when they had a free moment to give limited feedback, and insisting eli give harsher criticisms after running her audition materials for her. despite these hurdles, ivy arrived at her audition wednesday feeling comfortable and confident with her selections.

step three was focus. although waiting room etiquette was often debated, ivy didn’t bother chatting with the other auditioners like many advised one should do. she needed to keep a level head and maintain her precision before stepping into the “arena.” in fact, the entire day leading up to an audition or big performances, ivy rested her voice and hydrated to the extreme. today was no exception. she only broke that rule for vocal adrenaline rehearsal, which she had just left, and to do some vocal warm ups in the car before entering the building. by now, the regular circuit of auditioners knew not to bug ivy as she sat quietly in her chair, drank lots of water, and reviewed her song and monologue in her head. book open in her lap, ivy ran her finger over a line in hopelessly devoted to you (just in case she was asked to sing it) when the audition facilitator called her name. with a deep breath out, ivy rose to her feet, rolled her shoulders back, clutched her black binder to her chest, and entered through the doors.

this was step four. the moment she stepped inside, she flashed a bright smile in bryan ryan’s direction as she made her way to the stage. “good evening.” she greeted, pausing only when she reached him to pull out her resume and headshot to give him. it was an entirely unnecessary precaution, but one that ivy always practiced. it was only professional! what wasn’t professional though, was bryan ryan musing about how she had been a joy to work with during into the woods as she walked down the rest of the ramp, and up the steps to the stage. sure, ivy loved the compliment, but did mr.ryan have no tact? still, she thanked him with another picture perfect smile and began her slate.

“hello, i’m ivy st.james, and today i will be performing say the word by kerrigan and lowdermilk, from their groundbreaking first album, our first mistake.” it had been an easy choice once ivy had dug it out from her mom’s sheet music collection in the basement. the song musically sounded enough like some of the softer moments in the show, but lyrically it was easy to envision wendla singing about melchior, how much he taught her, how she thought of him, and how deep her love truly was. there was a lingering queasiness ivy had when thinking about stepping into wendla’s shoes like that, but there was definitely a couple of boys she could think of who had taught her a couple of things.

carrying on with her slate, ivy announced, “i will also be performing juliet’s monologue from act two, scene two. written by william shakespeare.” a charming smile, and then, “obviously.” of course ivy knew shakespearean monologues were often hit or miss, but she had a decent grasp on the material, and while the spring awakening musical was rather progressive, it’s time period was not. if all went as planned (which it should) it would showcase her ability to convey one of the most tragic love stories of all time, and wendla shared a love with melchior that was nothing if not tragic.

as she moved to the final portion of her slate, ivy faltered as a rare pit of nerves pooled in her stomach. was she suddenly agitated at the notion of solidifying her grab for wendla or was it the idea of embodying her for the course of her actual audition that left her thrown off? nevertheless, ivy was quick to shake away the feeling and conclude her slate, “i would like to be placed in any role, but i would love it for you to consider me as wendla. thank you.” and with that, she was moving to provide sheet music for the accompaniment while bryan ryan looked over her audition information. now onto what she had been brought up to do: perform.

reaching center stage, ivy looked over to the accompaniment and nodded when she was ready. as soon as the instrumentals began, the lights around her dimmed to dark, leaving her standing in a single spotlight with her feet solidly planted and a series of emotions playing across her face: gratitude, longing, love, and loss.

“sometimes when i look at you, i don't know why you’d wait. school girl in a little world, who learns everything late.”

ivy sang gently, not daring to move her feet a single step. this song would be one where she communicated feelings through her face, vocals, and sparing hand gestures. it wasn’t hidden that ivy could thrash around outrageously like some numbers in the show required, but this song wasn’t a moment like that. it was tender, soul baring, and not to be overdone. hands now rested delicately over her chest, the next lyrics slipped off her tongue in a soft stream that floated down to mr.ryan’s ears and hopefully tickled whatever he was looking for in a wendla. “i turn the light out under the covers all I think of is you. just you.”

“say the word and i just might listen. say the word, and you might get your way. loving you should be easier, but say the word, and i might have to stay.”

at the chorus, ivy revealed the faintest of smiles and continued singing with her heart as she tilted her head sideways up towards the spotlight, acting as if it’s beam were the sunny warmth of love. fully in her zone now, fleeting thoughts of the boys she’d loved raced through her mind and added a realistic quality to her performance before she reached the second verse and snapped her eyes open for the first time since she began. making eye contact with the “audience” from the second verse onward, ivy became more generous with belting and vocal runs as she tried to capture the essence of the doe eyed and naive wendla bergmann. there weren’t many roles ivy couldn’t pull off, but it was relatively easy to get in touch with this one. after all, at one point she’d been a similar type of girl as wendla.

reflecting on that time built a tightness in her chest, but only fueled her performance to be all the more powerful. was she stronger with or without that part of her in tact? as she sang, she seemed to be trying to find the answer to that question. ivy came up empty handed, emotionally and physically. all she had now was a regionals trophy and a laundry list of things that made her sad. but what was it that she really wanted? if ivy really thought about it, it was simple...

“i want to be the girl there by your side. just tell me when, just tell me how. tell me i’m ready now. today. say…”

by the emotional climax of the song, ivy was still center stage as she belted out with everything she had. with outstretched arms and tears rolling down her cheek, she utilized her vibrato and used her voice to try and push all the non-character related feelings she was currently having from her mind. it wasn’t exactly successful in the way she wanted it to be, but it certainly enhanced her performance. reaching the final set of lyrics, ivy skillfully pulled all of that energy back in and slowly brought her arms in with it as she concluded on stay.

ivy gave bryan ryan a moment to sit with the song before transitioning into her monologue. following say the word, ivy felt like she had emotional whiplash, but also, an odd sense of clarity. shortly after, she made it through the monologue as juliet with expert delivery and all the necessary elements to make it relatable to her desired role. and if anything, it was easier for ivy to get through. she was able to have fun with it. not often was it that one got to revisit a role they played in middle school!

truth be told, when all was concluded, ivy might have turned to mr.ryan with that same rehearsed smile, but she was ready to get off stage and breathe after that taxing performance. it left her a lot to sit with. fortunately, he dismissed her with an excellent job and a you’ll hear back by friday. so again, ivy thanked him, grabbed her book from the accompanist and hurried out so the next individual could head in.

now came step five, the waiting.

THE END.

#crhq:spring #mentions: molly #mentions: margot #mentions: kenna #//sorry for the background noise #//and sorry for the length!!#tldr: ivy wants wendla. she sang say the word + did a monologue from romeo and juliet while going on a bit of an emotional journey

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gilbirda · 4 years ago

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Eternal. Chapter 3

Elizabeth was a very old vampire, used to changes and tragedies, used to adapt to the evolving world. When one night she searches for a distraction she finds someone as lost as she is, a human man that sparks an interest in her. But will that be enough? Would she risk involving him in her ageless world?

Go to First || << Previous chapter || Next chapter >>

Chapter 3: Don’t make lemonade

Elizabeth rushed through the streets at full speed, barely realising that she had left her coat in the human’s house, not caring anymore about appearances and looking human anymore. Her mind was full with thoughts about the mistake she had just made, her heart beating a mile per hour in her chest, thinking that she shouldn’t have let her emotions guide her actions.

“Fuck,” she cursed while slowing down. She was really hungry now and nothing was helping her in containing her inner beast. Slowly, her mind focused on the hunger and only the hunger, the urge to sink her fangs on anything with blood on their veins, and she felt her body revert back to the state all vampires go under high pressure, guided by their lowest and more basic instincts.

Her nose caught a delicious scent in the air. Human. Right now she didn’t care about seductions or looking human or even talking. She wanted blood and wanted it now. And this poor human was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“What the-!” she heard the scream of the cold homeless person sitting by a burning trash can, probably trying to sleep at this late hour, in a filthy lonely dark alley where even in the bright daylight no one would dare to look inside.

A part of her mind wondered what she looked like to the man. A demon, maybe? Her reflection on his wide eyes as she grabbed his cold arm only gave her information she already knew, bright red eyes and very visible fangs poking out of her lips. Was the man religious? Was he able to understand what was happening as his blood calmed her primal state? Did he have someone who missed him at all?

She breathed some of the cold air when she dropped the now empty body at her feet. Her consciousness slowly came back like turning up the volume on a radio, and Elizabeth realized that she had killed the man.

She sighed. The world already had so much death and killing people was simply not her style; but it was her fault by not feeding properly and the vampire felt guilty for it.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured at the empty alley. No one answered.

***

“You did what!?”

“Let him leave without erasing his memories,” Elizabeth sighed for the tenth time, her voice muffled by the palm of the hand she was leaning on. She tried to look away from the eyes of her friend seated on the other chair of her kitchen table, afraid to face her wrath.

“Yeah yeah, I heard that the first damn time. Oh damn, Elizabeth, you really fucked it up bad now,” the other vampire in front of her puffed some smoke from her mouth, telling her that Lucy was really angry.

“I didn’t know what to do, ok? He said something unnerving and I… snapped. I didn’t want to erase his memories, Lucibelle, and it seemed like the best course of action.”

“‘Best course of action’ my ass, Eli.” The tiny vampire groaned and leaned back on her seat, careful not to touch the very flammable delicate wood of the ancient chair, “And don’t call me Lucibelle.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Don’t worry. You are one of the few that know it anyways,” the vampire sighed. “There are less and less ancients on the active lately.”

“I heard about that,” Elizabeth was grateful by the change of topic. “I wonder what is happening for them to go out of reach.”

“Dunno. At least Jonathan keeps his phone on this time. But the others, not a beep.”

A comfortable silence established between the two friends, each one on their own thoughts. The older vampire’s red eyes coursed through the spitfire in front of her, grateful to be able to call her a friend. Lucy, as she liked to be called now, has been living with her for a few years now and was there with the whole ordeal of Suzie.

The vampire looked no older than a kid, around fifteen, but in her own time she was considered almost an adult, already promised to an abusive much older man, sold by her own family for money. She had told Elizabeth that she didn’t resent them, as she could see now the logical decision in that exchange; but still, when she found out many years after the incident that they died in the Great Fire of London, she just smirked at the irony of the situation.

Their friendship was a strange one, their personalities so different and coming from very different worlds, but somehow they connected through dark humor and valued the opinion of the other’s. Lucy’s snarky comments had saved her from more than one dangerous and probably fatal situation, and her advice during the worst break up of her life helped her go on.

Something she respected about Lucy was her ability to adapt to the changing world. She was even jealous of it. Being forever a teenager wasn’t easy, and she knew of really nasty experiences her friend had decided to share, but the golden eyed vampire surpassed every hardship and got out of them stronger and more powerful. She wasn’t known as the ‘Fire demon’ for anything, after all, and it wasn’t only because of her one-of-a-kind fire powers.

“What do you think he might be feeling right now?” said vampire asked, bringing her out of her musings.

“Probably angry. And betrayed. And kind of spooked.”

“Well, yeah, no one disappears like that. No one human, at least” she gave her a disappointed look.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” Elizabeth put her hands in the air in defeat, looking back at the golden intensity of her friend’s eyes. “I’ll fix that.”

“You’d better.”

***

A whole week had passed and Elizabeth was burning with regrets. Being inside everyday didn’t help at all, reading wasn’t working for her right now, and when she tried to play any game of any kind, her attention dispersed to her very brief encounter with the strange human. His words when he talked about his obsession with vampires still burned in her brain like coals, consuming her until the need to know more about what he thought about her kind grew almost as big as hunger.

It was a cruel flaw of hers, that insatiable curiosity. She always wanted to know more, to know why, how, when of everything; and while it helped her find some valuable people on her life (she tried not to think about Suzie, as it was her damn curiosity what attracted her to the human at that time), it had led her to almost get killed a few times.

So that’s why she found herself once more on the queue of “Midnight Blood” with her corset and gothic-like makeup, trying to choke down the blood she just had from a random hooker on the street on her way to the club. She had just the bare minimum and the woman was okay after she wiped her memories, only a little winded. Nonetheless, she bought her dinner.

“Your ID, lady” said the big man watching the door, his hand open and waiting for her. The vampire blinked and handed him the card, barely listening to the angry whispers behind her. It seemed that she was slowing the line. “Go.”

She thanked him in a low whisper and got in the club, her ears already hurting from the loud music playing in the enormous speakers by the stage. Tonight, a group was playing some kind of grunge-ish rock, big mohawks and shiny outfits accompanied with white makeup and thick eyeliner. The lady that was singing was really into the song, eyes closed, murmuring the words of the lyrics to the microphone and making gestures with the hands as if trying to touch something that wasn’t there. It wasn’t her style at all, but she could see the sentiment in the woman’s face as she sang about a lost love and despair. She respected that.

The vampire shook her head and focused on finding one human in the sea of human flesh dancing and moving at the rhythm of the music. She looked at the veranda on the second floor, maybe hoping that he was there waiting for her. It was silly, but she really wanted to make an impression on him like William did on her. Maybe he wasn’t as curious as she was? Maybe he was really angry and didn’t want anything to do with her?

Oh my God, she thought, panicking. She thought she saw him for a moment, her sharp eyes catching a glimpse of dark blonde hair in the distance. What am I going to say?

A second look confirmed that it was him indeed, and to the utmost horror of the vampire, he was looking back at her and seemed really angry. She gulped.

Slowly, mostly because of the mass of humans bouncing around in the dance floor that didn't let her pass easily, Elizabeth walked to the glaring human leaning on the wall, arms crossed. He looked disappointed, almost like he already knew what she wanted to say and was sad about it. She wondered what kind of betrayal had happened in his life to be like this.

“You,” he said when she managed to reach him, “have some explaining to do.”

#original fiction #gil writes #writeblr #writing #exophilia #exophilia fiction #vampire #vampire fiction #urban fantasy #bisexual main character #female vampire x human #queer characters

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feistypaants-archived · 5 years ago

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I Saw Mommy Kissin’ Santa Claus [Chapter 9]

Rating: T Words: 1596 Pairing: Kristanna Summary: Can Santa grant Christmas Wishes? Is Santa living among us? Is it the weird guy on the hill with lots of reindeer? Single mother Anna is about to learn all about the Magic of Santa Claus with the help of her son, Eli.

[Chapter Index]

Where To Read: [AO3] | [FFN]

Notes: she’s long! It’s fine. :^) this chapter just kept going but it felt right so i’m not mad about it. They’re horny on main don’t judge.

Enjoy!

After a short venture to the grocery store, Kristoff picking up a few more supplies to make sure Anna’s hand healed properly, and a very sweet elderly couple telling them just how darling they were together, they were both rather relieved to be getting back to her apartment. Plus, Eli hadn’t stopped singing any song he could about Santa Claus and Kristoff felt himself getting more and more embarrassed. From what the kid had said, he wasn’t planning on telling anyone that he thought Kristoff was Santa, but he was still worried that Anna would think something was just a little bit off.

But she had just laughed and sang along, Kristoff feeling his cheeks growing hot when she had started singing the lyrics to Santa Baby, nuzzling Eli’s nose against her own as she tried her best to make the words sound much more innocent than they were.

As embarrassed as he was, Kristoff couldn’t help but watch with soft eyes. There was something special about their relationship, and he… was surprised at how much more he wanted to know about them.

Things flowed naturally between them and neither thought to question it. They got back to her apartment, and started to cook. There were slim pickings at the store, but Kristoff had managed to scrounge up enough for a cheesy baked pasta, and Anna agreed that nothing sounded more delightful than hot cheese and carbs today. He tried to bite back a smile but couldn’t hold it in when she bumped her hip against his, skirt shifting on her thighs, and started walking towards the register.

And maybe a small part of him was curious what would happen if her loose sweater shifted off her shoulders, or up her stomach… or her denim skirt rode up just a little higher or… or…

He found himself staring after her.

In fact, as she unlocked the door, walked into the apartment, gave Eli a pat on his butt, and walked back to the kitchen, Kristoff was dumbfounded by how charmed he was with her.

Anna wasn’t doing much better.

She had always admired him. The breadth of his shoulders, the width of his arms, the warm, honey brown of his eyes… even how his hair settled in a gentle wave right over his ear. But everyone had said he was rude and brash and not worth the effort… So she tried her best to avoid him when he came into the diner. Besides, Bulda usually waited on him anyway.

But it was turning out that he wasn’t anything like she had thought… There was no bitterness, no anger… She watched as he hoisted Eli upside down and made him giggle uncontrollably, and felt her heart leap into her throat. Kristoff smiled wide, let Eli back down on the ground, and moved back towards the stove. “Pots and pans?”

Anna snapped out of her dreamy state and trotted forward, using the bottoms of her tights to slide across the wood floor. It was something she did almost every day, but when his arms reached out to catch her mid slide, Anna flushed and stopped herself before she wound up in his embrace. There was fleeting disappointment on both of their faces, but Anna reached forward to swing open the door of a large cabinet.

“Everything we need is here…”

The time flew by as they cooked, practically dancing around one another in a synchronized fashion. Anna ducked under his arms to put a tray in the oven, Kristoff flipping a spoon from one hand to the other as he curved around her. They both expertly avoided Eli running between their legs, laughing and high-fiving every time they avoided calamity in the shape of a seven year old boy.

And after they were finished, Anna pulled out her few matching dishes, set the table, and called Eli over to wash up.

“Wine?” she asked, pulling out both a bottle of Chardonnay and Pinot Noir. “I don’t have a huge selection but…”

Kristoff held up a hand, shaking his head. “Ah, I’m okay. Go ahead if you’d like, though.”

Scrunching her nose up, Anna decided she didn’t want to drink alone anyway and tucked them both back into the fridge. She didn’t notice the subtle relief that passed over Kristoff’s face as he let out a deep breath and moved to grab some tap water. Eli hopped down from his step stool and eagerly sat in his chair, waiting impatiently for Kristoff and Anna to sit down beside him. “Mama, Mister B, come on!”

Anna turned with a more serious look on her face, fully intending to remind him of patience and manners, but she couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face at his eager face and hands gripping the silverware as he resisted eating the food that was sat out in front of him. “All right, all right.”

Kristoff sat across from Anna, and couldn’t take his eyes off of her as she leaned over to give Eli the okay to start eating. She turned her gaze up to him and he watched with an increasingly goofy smile as a red flush crossed her cheeks. “So…” she hummed, tucking her long hair back behind her ear. “Thank you for being so understanding today.”

“Of course,” he nodded, turning his embarrassed face down to his plate before taking a large bite. He looked around the room, swallowing hard and pretending he didn’t almost choke on the pasta. “I get… rough days.”

Anna looked down at Eli to ensure he wasn’t paying attention before continuing. “Yeah…” She shook out her nerves before letting out a breathy chuckle. “I mean… you’re nothing like people around here say.”

Kristoff’s hand froze midair, and his face turned slowly back up to hers. “... No, I’m not.”

“Oh, no, no!” Anna dropped her fork and shook her hands in denial. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s…”

They both went silent before taking a few bites and chewing slowly.

Anna tried again, coughing. “So I have some pies from Bulda’s…”

Kristoff laughed, nodding. “You mentioned.”

“Do you like that diner?”

Kristoff shrugged, nodding. “I mean it’s my ma’s… so she’d probably kill me if I didn’t.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah…”

Silence washed over the table again, and Eli finally looked up at the both of them. He could feel something wasn’t right, and he was all finished eating, so he sat up straight and looked right at his mother. “Mama?”

Anna jumped and turned to him, propping her chin into her hand. “Yes, baby?

He clasped his hands together on top of the table, doing his best to look businesslike. “Can I go play a game?”

She sighed with relief, nodding and excusing him after requesting he put his dirty dishes in the sink. As soon as he was in the other room, Anna turned her gaze back to Kristoff. “I’m sorry, again, about tonight.”

“Stop apologizing, Anna.” His words may have been stern, but his expression was soft. “It’s really, really fine.”

Nodding, Anna smiled up at him. “Thank you…”

He bit at the inside of his lip and then placed his hands flat on the table. “So, pie?”

“Pie!”

—-

After eating, cleaning up, and Kristoff showing Anna how to install the chains onto her tires, he was getting ready to head back home. Anna excused herself for a moment, putting some of the leftovers into a Tupperware for him to take home, and Kristoff jumped slightly when Eli approached him from behind.

“Mister B?”

Kristoff placed a hand over his heart to help calm his nerves and knelt down to get on the same level as Eli. “What’s up, kiddo?”

“Are you trying to be in disguise?”

He blinked, arching one eyebrow. “Disguise?”

“Well,” Eli started, shrugging nervously. “You shaved your beard…” He frowned when Kristoff laughed, and crossed his arms. “I still know who you are.”

“All right.”

They looked at one another for a moment, listening for Anna finishing up in the kitchen.

“So…” Eli leaned in closer to Kristoff, trying to whisper but failing miserably. “Are you working on my wish?”

Anna came running into the hallway, a large container of pasta held out in front of her. “Okay!” She watched as Eli jumped away from Kristoff, and Kristoff used a hand on his knee to stand back up. She squinted her eyes with suspicion and smiled. “Are you boys conspiring against me?”

They both laughed, and Kristoff took a step closer to Anna. “Of course. Just trying to figure out how to get you to bring me more pie.”

Eli giggled, and Kristoff gave him a small wink.

Their hands brushed as he took the tupperware from her hands. “Thanks.”

Anna nodded, a blush rising high on her cheeks and bit her lower lip. “You’re welcome…”

She moved quickly, trying impossibly hard not to mess up, and placed a soft kiss against his stubbly cheek. Their eyes met as she dropped down to flat feet and she moved to push her hair back over one shoulder.

“... You shaved.”

Kristoff’s smile twisted to one side as if he was trying to hold it back. “You just noticed?”

She shrugged, and tangled her fingers together in front of her hips. “I liked the beard.”

Kristoff laughed, and stepped backwards, tripping over one of Eli’s discarded shoes before righting himself again. “Yeah…” After rubbing at the back of his head, he reached for the door. “Well… See ya.”

Anna blinked a couple times before nodding.

“See ya.”

#kristanna #kristanna fanfic #kristanna fic #ismkscfic #feistypantswrites #frozen #frozen fic

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lonelypond · 5 years ago

Text

Soldier Game: Operation LA Smile, Ch. 3

NicoMaki, Love Live, 4K, 3/?

Nico shouldn’t be nervous. It was her party. Her idea. Her reminder that whatever else was going on in the universe, whatever unappreciative individuals might think of Nico’s charm and abilities, Yazawa Nico could always draw a crowd. With almost no notice. Take that aloof, rich, redheaded sexcapade. Nico didn’t care. Casual came with the territory. Hearts broken all over the globe.

Kotori had done an amazing job with the panther theme, finding huge, stuffed velvet panthers and leopards to scatter across the rooftop terrace under strings and strings of multicolored fairy lights, small brightness against the stunning Tokyo nightscape. Charged by the atmosphere, Nico twirled under the lights to the amusement of the woman setting up the bar. Nico winked. It was always good to appreciate your audience. She adjusted the bow at the neck of her black and gray glitter clouded leopard pattern sleeveless maxi dress. Kotori had a shiny brown jaguar fabric in a shirt tucked into high gold disco glamour trousers. Nico’s see through black stockings with vine texture added to the wild vibe.

Pretty soon, pretty pretty women were going to be screaming to be let in. Nico wondered when the celebrity guests of honor would arrive and then Kotori stepped out onto the roof, Umi on her arm, in a very elegant and modest little black dress, with a fascinating and subtle open knit texture Nico would have killed to design. What would the boxing redhead show up in, Nico wondered? Some more expensive designer than Nico?

###

Think casual. Last night in Tokyo. Eli smiled and bobbed her head at a young woman who couldn’t decide between approaching Eli or joining the swarm around Nico. Eli was enjoying the breeze, the cool darkness. She’d spent all day in their cramped office, having to deal with various government functionaries who did not believe Eli was official enough for the level of clearance she held. She was looking forward to being in the field, making spur of the moment decisions based on reconnaissance and sitreps. She pushed the sleeves of her loose white blazer up, black cigarette pants, and light blue linen shirt completing the outfit. Feather Smile had dressed like the sizzling hot, shine the spotlight here team they were and Umi had chosen her dress with her usual exquisite attention to detail. Eli smiled and leaned on the bar, “Vodka tonic, please.”

“Yes, miss.”

And then there was Maki. Arriving late, as always. Because it wasn’t a truly fashionable party unil Nishikino Maki arrived. The room practically stopped. No conversation as Maki strode through, brazen, confident, shooting dagger sparks if anyone dared glance her way. Maki pulled entire rooms without even trying and tonight, when she was letting the banked down fire burning in her core light those priceless amethyst eyes, there were actual gasps when she walked into a space for the first time. Eli was expecting something designer, but Maki had opted for gym chic?!!!? And then, Nico gestured at the DJ and a song Eli had almost forgotten came over the speaker system.

“Three, two, one, zero! Here's my intro Please look at me; I'm completely serious My thrilling beauty will win, without fail”

Soldier Game. The silly pop single they’d recorded in high school. Umi seemed surprised but smiled when Kotori giggled. Maki whirled, completely red, glaring at Nico, who dismissed her with an offhand wave and went back to being surrounded by a crushing crowd as the song continued. Maki, arms wrapped around her torso, was slouched behind a panther, nearly obscured, her bold energy burst.

Eli took her drink over, “Want this?”

Maki shook her head, cheeks still reddened.

“That’s a real blast from the past. I keep trying to forget it. Those photoshoots.”

“That tiara dug into my skull. I hate photoshoots.” Maki groaned.

“So this assignment will be fun.”

Maki’s nostrils flared. Eli knew she was biting back an ‘only if l get to shoot someone’ comment and kept the conversation going before Maki totally lost her temper.

“Well, you’ve made an entrance anyway.”

Maki scowled, “Now we do small talk?”

“I’ve had a government bureaucracy runaround kind of a day and I just want to stay off my phone, enjoy a breeze, listen to music, and have a few drinks. In order to do that in peace, I have to first make sure you won’t throw anyone off the roof.”

“What did Umi tell you?” Immediate suspicion.

Eli shrugged.

Maki sounded ready to strangle someone, “Just leave me alone, Eli.”

“Fine.” Eli raised a glass in a toast, “But remember why we’re here.”

“Fine.” Maki shoved past Eli. “I’m going to go be a rich brat.”

And she wasn’t even going to have to try, Eli thought as she downed her drink.

###

Nico was sliding across the floor, new, top tier dance moves, to amuse a set of twins, one with pink streaks, one with purple, both with leopard ears topping their hair.

“Nico Ni always dances her way to ideas. And then once Kotori creates them, Nico dances in them, because if cute girls can’t move and breathe in a Feather Smile design, no one but Nico sees it.”

“Do you get your ideas from concerts...or movies...or celebrities?” Pink Streak asked with a giggle. “Or do you just dream them up?”

“Nico only hangs out with the most stylish....”

“Zookeepers?” Maki asked drily as she leaned over the panther, having fueled her courage with double tequila shots. “”S really not innovative, or…” a shrug and the whole panther moved, “interesting really. The feline as an expression of feline…fury...furry...” she blinked, “I mean female sensuality. Overdone. Copied from cooler…” a pause for frantic blinking, “errors...ermines…”Maki couldn’t find the word and had to settle “years...not even rocker chic,” Maki giggled as Nico felt annoyance start to prick and Maki continued, “scraping rocker bottom chick.”

Nico rolled her eyes, Maki was obviously inebriated. She and the streak twins watched as the redhead stood, swayed, and decided she wasn’t finished

“Unless…” Maki leaned forward again, supported by both arms on the stuffed panther, and only a quick shoulder shove by Nico prevented Pink and Purple Streak from having two panthers sprawled all over them, “you’re into that?”

Pink Streak was closer so Nico grabbed those ears, leaned forward, stuck them firmly in sweaty red hair, whispered, “Do you purr?” and watched in amusement as Maki jumped back, dragging the panther with her, and sprinted for a bar.

###

Eli had spent much of the past three days sharing an office with Tojo Nozomi and the only conclusion she had drawn was that Nozomi, as she’d forced Eli to call her, was an enigma, with little hints of tantalizing layers of....mischief occasionally surfacing in those sea green labyrinth of eyes. Having done her duty as a friend to Maki and provided her temperamental compatriot an opportunity to vent off some steam, Eli found herself wondering where Nozomi was at this event. Not at one of the bars on the terrace, or rubbing up against the nearly five foot tall stuffed panthers like so many of the younger dancers, nor, as far as Eli could see, tucked into a corner conversation somewhere. Maybe she was inside, in one of the cool, dark wood alcoves, staring out at the Tokyo nightscape. This was certainly a view worth the price of one of the hotel’s rooms.

Eli wandered back into the bar. Not as many people clumped here, some masked, because now masks were fashionable. Eli had by now thoroughly reviewed the FeatherSmile dossier. They were one of the first companies to develop a gossamer fabric, diaphanous, like a movie genie’s veil, that still cut the dispersion of droplets. Thanks to Yazawa’s connections and innovative demands, FeatherSmile was often on the leading edge of textile tech. No Nozomi here though, veiled or not.

Eli wandered back out, to the high ceilinged open terrace, casually grabbing a handful of chocolate eclairs and macarons, and there was Nozomi, legs pulled up underneath her, in a very formal navy business suit, a floral shirt her only concession to the non office setting, sitting in the very middle of things, on something that in the very middle of furniture and sculpture

Eli, hands full of chocolate, slid in next to her, “You still look like you’re at the office.”

Nozomi smiled, “I am still on the job.”

“What is your job?” Eli couldn’t help it. She was usually good at figuring people out, at knowing who to ask for a briefing, at knowing which paperwork would fill in the sketch of a briefing, but Nozomi, for all that she looked a proper, mid-level bureaucrat, had none of the mid-level bureaucrat paper trail attached to her name or office, which made Eli think there was more going on here than a simple tourist jaunt covering for a drop off.

Nozomi shrugged, “I manage people.”

Another veronica, swing the distracting cape of an answer. Eli bit into a meltingly amazing pastry to consider the next tack to take.

“Ever been to America?”

“Yes. You?”

Eli ate the final, exquisite bite, “I haven’t spent as much time there as Maki. Family business kept me mainly in Russia or Tokyo.”

“Yes, it’s a very unique nexus you three represent: Japan, America, and Russia. Must have been an interesting high school.”

Eli laughed, “It was. I was student council president.”

As if cued, another Soldier Game song played.

“And the high school idol’ing?”

Eli sighed. No more chocolate left. And this was the topic.

Nozomi leaned forward a little, almost touching Eli’s knee, “Sorry, was that too personal? Something you want to forget?”

“No. It’s pretty common knowledge, although most people don’t know the backstory.”

“Backstory?”

“Maki’s drive to compose, Umi’s need to express herself in lyrics, my….”

Nozomi gave off a calming aura, encouraging Eli to talk. This wasn’t top secret info. Nothing was really stopping Eli from sharing. It was just a part of her past she preferred to…

Nozomi had waved a waiter over to break the tension, “Shirley Temple, please. Eli?”

“Vodka tonic.”

“Of course.” The waiter bowed.

“Sorry to push you. We can talk about the lovely view if you’d rather?” There was that mischief as Nozomi’s eyes met hers, and Nozomi giggled. “Or you can tell me if Maki always gets this drunk.”

“Only on tequila.”

“And you?”

“Never on tequila.” Eli laughed and leaned back against a concrete pillar, “I could never crack the upper echelon of Russian ballet schools. So I had something to prove.”

“Ah.”

Eli heard a confirmation in the ‘ah.” So Nozomi had already looked up the story. No real connection here. Price of doing business. Everyone knows more than they say and still fillets you for information. Confirm, look for weaknesses, memorize flaws. Eli suddenly felt worn.

“I’d better check in with Umi.” Eli stood, “I’ll see you on the plane tomorrow.”

Nozomi half rose, startled, but then settled back down, hands composed in her lap, “Of course. I hope you get some rest, Eli.”

Eli’s name sounded flat as Nozomi said it, but Eli still smiled and returned the courtesy, “I hope you can manage some off the job time.”

Nozomi shrugged. Eli turned away. Chocolate first, then Umi, then sleep. It had been too long a day.

###

Maki glared, then threw back the tequila shot she’d been carrying. Florrie’s ‘Begging Me’ was echoing and she wondered exactly how much control Nico had exerted over the DJ’s playlist. Long Island Iced Tea next, this was a Long Island Iced Tea night.

She marched up to the bartender, demanded the drink, took the bare minimum amount of time to drink it down through a cold metal straw, lips nearly frozen. A little buzzy, a little daring, feeling the need to just…

Everyone not actively chatting up a potential partner in the low lighting, dark wood interior of the bar had spilled out onto the roof, where with no time at all, Feather Smile had set up a sort of prowling fur extravaganza, huge velvet panthers and leopards arrayed in clusters, doubling as seating, people leaning or riding on them, a bar at either end of the terrace. The lights of Tokyo were everywhere there weren’t stars or fairy lights and Maki took a deep breath, trying to just check out of the party scene and let the lights and movement scatter her looping thoughts. It was usually a very solid escape plan, but just as her shoulders relaxed, someone giggled, “Oh, Nico, that tickles” and Maki spun to see Nico leaning over a woman leaning back into a velvet black panther, the woman’s shirt off, her see through black lace bra shimmering darkly. Nico had a metallic pen and finished off her signature with a flourish. And a kiss on the fabric to seal it.

Another giggle. And something whispered. And Nico leaning over the woman to whisper a reply. Maki headed back to the bartender who’d done her marginally satisfying Long Island Ice Tea.

“Make it better this time or I’ll make sure you’re fired.” Maki snapped.

The bartender bowed, “Of course. I’m so sorry the last one was not satisfying.”

“More tequila.”

Umi’s voice cut in, “Whatever she’s having, make it with less tequila. Cute ears by the way.”

Maki reached up and ripped the Nico tainted accessory out of her hair.

Umi leaned on the bar, shaking her head at Maki. “You have to stop getting random staffers fired. People won’t like you.”

“People,” Maki couldn’t help that her glance went to Nico, “Don’t like me now.”

Nico had her arms around a woman’s waist and they were swaying to music that was too sexy to be swaying to in public. Maki pushed herself off the bar, but Umi caught her arm.

“Weapons.” Umi demanded.

Maki waved her hands down the length of her torso. Her side slashed, short, armless tunic covering a sports bra, offered a view of her torso that showed no hidden armament. Her form fitting shorts also proved that there was nothing unnatural about any of the curves the fabric was clinging to. “I just want to dance.”

Visual check cleared, Umi offered Maki the terrace, “Enjoy.”

Maki’s eyes burned with fierce intensity, ‘I plan to.”

And a mellow song, Surf Mesa’s "ILY", rolled but there was nothing mellow about the way Maki walked into the center of the terrace, threw out her arms, closed her eyes, and started mouthing “I love you, baby” as Emilie did, arms raising, wrists crossed over each other, muscle pulses so tight that it seemed like her whole torso was throbbing as she circled her abdomen, thrusting her hips incrementally forward, flexing her knees to crouch down to bounce up, tossing her hair back in near slow motion and red strands flamed in the pattern of flashes that suddenly surrounded her as everyone pulled out their phone, images of Maki lost in a blur, not captive, as the Tokyo nightscape provided a brilliant, blinding backdrop.

###

Nico did not like the speculative, predatory look in Kotori’s eye. She was very familiar with it and they had a strict first seen, first claimed agreement that Nico’s boxing ring encounter with Maki certainly would have invoked but Nico did not want to be so open about her...there was no right word..interest, annoyance, remembering her most recent encounter with Maki, Nico laughed at herself and decided animal attraction was probably the truest.

With so much attention on Maki and the terrace full of dark patches, Nico and Kotori had found a moment to meet. Kotori was leaning into her elbows, watching Maki, idly twisting the straw in her drink.

“Don’t you have a very stylish samurai stashed somewhere?” Nico decided on a diversionary tactic.

Nico knew her partner very well. Kotori turned away from watching Maki, with a squeal, “Did you see that dress, Nico? And the texture, exquisite, I couldn’t rip my hands away. I just want to take it off her so I can see how they did that open knit.”

Nico leaned into obvious, with a snort, “That’s not the only reason.”

Kotori arched an eyebrow, “I never discuss proprietary tactics, Nico.”

Nico chuckled, ‘Well, there seem to be a few other people interested in that…” Nico paused and pointed over her shoulder to where Umi was walled off by a crowd of women fascinated by the most inscrutable member of Soldier Game, now that Maki had decided to dry heave near a plant, “dress.”

Kotori’s lips twisted and anger flared briefly in now cold golden eyes, “I’ll see if Umi-chan wants to sit and sip some champagne.”

Nico was watching Maki run shaky fingers through her hair and slap herself on the cheeks. “And I’ll get the dancing started up again.”

###

Eli leaving had left Nozomi unsettled. So she took her Shirley Temple in hand and decided to roam. Her first target, Nico, who was once again somehow not being crushed by a crowd of young women demanding Nico sign their bras with her private contact info. Nico’s flirt style was an art, all wink and dash, never lingering, but always making a connection. Eager, thirsty eyes followed her everywhere. Nozomi was impressed by the range of her charisma and how professionally in stride Nico took the adoration.

“Care to sign something a little less personal for me?” Nozomi asked when Nico spun into her zone.

Nico demurred. “Nico always needs a treat.” A completely outrageous wink as Nico moved to the next young woman, who had unbuttoned her blouse, exposing ample curves that almost escaped their lacy lilac support, “Hi. Nico Ni wants to know. What’s your name and favorite color?”

“Oki and Green.” The blonde woman flushed as Nico let the pen linger a little.

“Nico will design a holiday set to showcase these memorable curves.” NIco finished her signature with a flourish, “Look for it. Nico thinks Santa will bring a good girl like you, Oki, a very special set.”

“Don’t talk about Santa like that.” An angry voice interrupted.

“Maki! We haven’t had a chance to talk all night.” Nozomi stepped in, trying to divert Maki and guide her away by the elbow, but the riled up heiress brushed off any restraint.

Maki had one target in her laser focused sights. Nico. “Don’t use Santa as a shill for your lingerie.”

Nico winked at the blonde, before answering Maki, “Nico got all her elf paperwork in on time last year. Completely certified to deliver North Pole approved presents. Ask half of Tokyo.”

“Ask Santa.” Maki’s fist were clenched. Nico had no idea why she was in the middle of a fight about two beloved holiday traditions, Santa Claus and FeatherSmile’s Christmas Cuddle lingerie line, but Maki had once again impulsively shoved them both into something unexpected.

“Okay, Nico will.” Nico took her pen and started to write a note on her arm, but Maki grabbed the pen and wrote a number on Nico’s arm as she spoke.

“Text me when he tells you you’re officially on the naughty list.” Maki snorted, “I want to laugh at you.”

This was an incredibly strange way to get the number of the hot, crazy girl she’d already had sex with. But Nico could roll with anything. That was her real superpower. And why she was so good at ALL of her jobs.

But before Nico could retort, Nozomi took the pen and wrote a number under Maki’s on Nico’s arm, “Text me too.”

The blonde giggled. Nozomi smirked at her, and leaned down to whisper, “I’d like to see green on you. Can I get you a drink? I have a Christmas at the South Pole story that you’ll never forget.”

And that left Nico with the glaring Maki. The crowd had been repelled by the waves of fury rolling off Maki. Nico sighed, “What are we really fighting about?”

“Santa.” Maki said stubbornly.

“It’s June, Nico loves Christmas, but Nico was planning to think about the beach and bikinis for at least a week.”

Maki crossed her arms over her torso as another Soldier Game song came over the speakers. “Did you have to play them?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“People expect it.” Nico listened for a verse, “Plus, they’re catchy. You sound good. You wrote the music, right?”

“Composed.”

“Wrote, composed…”

Maki leaned very much into Nico’s face, blinking, “Sewed, painted, same thing, right?”

“Fine. Nico will use the right words. Do you still compose?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“What do you want to talk about?” Nico opened her arms to the room, “Nico has adoring fans eager for a few minutes of her time and your minutes,” Nico glanced at her watch, “are up.”

Maki pulled back. “I don’t want to talk.”

Nico stepped close, and could feel Maki tense at the proximity, “Well, Nico does have a suite reserved if you really need some…”

“Stop.” Maki’s hands shot out, Nico guessed to push Nico away, but they just lingered on her shoulders.

“Well, if you want to dance, Nico never disappoints a pretty lady.” And Nico dropped both hands to Maki’s waist, pulling her in, and starting to sway as the tempo of the music slowed. Maki shadowed the motion, her eyes closing, for a minute and then she froze, eyes wide open, looking down at Nico in horror.

“Um...why...no…I have to…”

“Run?” Nico suggested, her tone teasing.

Maki’s wry smile, full of unguarded charm, was a change of mood more surprising than anything that had happened to Nico so far, “How’d you guess?”

Nico was getting intrigued. This wasn’t the plan. But Nico always had a stock answer, “Nico knows.”

“Santa knows. Nico fakes it.” Almost a playful growl.

“Still on Santa? Did I mention June?” Nico decided to pull Maki close enough that their hips were bumping. “And nothing Nico does is faked.” Nico dropped her voice, closing in on Maki’s ear, “Don’t you remember?”

Full, complete flush. WIld blinking. Nico had a sudden inspiration and released Maki’s waist. “Thanks for your number. Nico might call you, if you’re lucky,”

With a frustrated growl, Maki suddenly had both hands in her own hair, rough tearing it, and Nico wanted to feel the texture so bad it took enormous physical effort to hold her hands back. Then Maki was standing straight again, so tall, slashed tunic showing muscle and tan and curves, a sexy dream fuel snarl mouthing words that took Nico a few seconds to actually register the foreignness of, “Da parte mia, ritengo che sia meglio essere avventurosi che cauti, perché la fortuna è una donna.”

Was that Italian? How many languages did Maki speak? Nico decided she needed less homework not more as Maki walked away from her, a tequila induced sway threatening to tilt her into a bystander.

####

Hanayo glanced away from the FeatherSmile party livestream. If she’d been there, she would have been a mouse in a quiet corner. She couldn’t hear anything but the music but the party was still almost as engaging as a good Korean drama. Hanayo enjoyed watching the women move in and out of conversation groups, dancing, leaning into close, cozy chats that Hanayo could imagine might result in even cozier conversations. Nico was a blur of motion and charisma, Kotori cool and calm and centered as she glided everywhere, from woman to woman, a quick kiss on so many cheeks, a sly smile when no one was looking but the camera. Hanayo wondered what it would be like to be in the same room with them.

She glanced at the small chat window on her business phone. Her agricultural contacts wanted an in person meeting coinciding with her FeatherSmile obligations. She opened a text window on her laptop. Nozomi had warned her about something like this happening.

A/N: The Italian is a quote from Machiavelli: "For my part I consider that it is better to be adventurous than cautious, because fortune is a woman."Hi.

#Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #bodyguard au #Tojo Nozomi #Ayase Eli #NicoMaki #NozoEli #KotoUmi #Sonoda Umi #Minami Kotori #Koizumi Hanayo #Soldier Game

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pink-pupz · 5 years ago

Note

Top 5 gay songs and why?

Ooh good question!

1. Girls by Beatrice Eli

I mean, the lyrics are just so gay, I've known about this song since I first came out and it just sums up that wlw mood

(I will tw it just in case, like me, you really don't like the mention of sex/sexual scenarios)

2. Only a Girl by Gia

Again, I've known about this song since I first came out and I quite like it but the music video is very..male centred..or at least how men view lesbian relationships and it's really uncomfortable to watch tbh sksks

3. New Girlfriend by Gia Woods (or just Gia, she rebranded apparently??)

Ooh I really like this one personally, I can't sum it up in words because of how good it is but definitely give it a listen!

4. ANY GIRL IN RED SONG OK JUST TRUST ME ON THIS ONE

5. Hhh idk if it counts as a gay song but Girlfriend by Icona Pop fucking,,,...SLAPS

It holds a lot of fond memories for me, from a time when I was in love and content with life, very good song 10/10

Thank you! I hope this has shed some insight into my gay little life sksks

#tw: sex mention #these are the only explicitly gay ones I have the rest I pretend are gay #these are definitely songs you can listen to when you're crushing

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hastioexquisito · 5 years ago

Text

2019 Music

Some records I bought (mostly via Bandcamp.com) and liked that came out during the last year:

SOLO GUITAR

Isasa “Insilio” (La Castanya)

Winslow “Winslow” (self-released)

Eli Winter “The Time To Come” (Blue Hole Recordings)

Evandro Dresch “Vallarsa Vol. 1” (self-released)

Jonny Dillon “Songs Fir A One-String Guitar” (All City Records)

Toby Hay “New Music For The 12 String Guitar” (The state51 Conspiracy)

Jon Collin “From a Petrified Forest” (Garden Portal)

Jon Collin “Water & Rock Music Volumes 3–6” (Early Music)

FOLK/SONGWRITER

Grace Cummings “Refuge Cove” (self-released)

Joan Shelley “Like the River Loves the Sea” (No Quarter)

Itasca “Spring” (Paradise of Bachelors)

Owen Tromans “Between Stones” (self-released)

INDIE/ROCK/PUNK/HARDCORE

The Stroppies “Woosh” (Tough Love)

Possible Humans “Everybody Split” (Hobbies Galore/Trouble In Mind)

Eddy Current Suppression Ring “All In Good Time” (Castle Face)

Virvon Varvon “Mind Cancer” (Girlsville)

Irreal “Fi Del Mon” (La Vida Es Un Mus)

Comet Gain “Fireraisers Forever!” (Tapete Records)

The Reds, Pinks & Purples “Anxiety Art” (Pretty Olivia Records)

The Proper Ornaments “Six Lenins” (Tapete Records)

AVANT/EXPERIMENTAL/ADJACENT

Richard Youngs & Raül Refree “All Hands Around the Moment” (Soft Abuse)

75 Dollar Bill “I Was Real” (Thin Wrist)

Joshua Abrams & Natural Information Society “Simultonality” (Eremite)

Sarah Louise “Nighttime Birds and Morning Stars” (Thrill Jockey)

Ignatz & de Stervende Honden “Deadbeat Freedom” (Ultra Eczema)

BEST LYRICS

billy woods “Hiding Places” (Backwoodz Studioz)

The Paranoid Style “A Goddamn Impossible Way Of Life” (Bar/None Records)

SELF-RELEASED SINGLE OF THE YEAR

Lavinia Blackwall “Troublemakers” (self-released)

#aoty2019 #records #music #punk #folk #solo guitar

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erinoddly-archived-blog · 6 years ago

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THoE Chapter 1

Here is the full first draft of the first chapter of The Hounds of Edrus! I’ve posted this before but keep taking it down, so hopefully I’ll keep it up this time....

Please leave any comments you have on how this could be made better in the next draft!!

The thing about prophecies was that they were more like puzzle pieces than any sort of coherent thought; a mess of imagery and metaphors that needed to be translated and pieced together, even though there was always something crucial missing. That was why Roxie thought it was extremely stupid to do this ritual year after year to try and force a prophecy. The chances of her being able to make sense of any sort of prophecy the gods granted her in return were slim to none. She knew that.

She knew that, and yet here she was, dressed in the dusty orange robes she was forced to wear every summer, with her green eyes smudged with kohl and her face covered with sharply defined lines of orange paint, with her dark hair tied back in a long braid and adorned with small bells, all to perform some dumb ritual that was virtually pointless. But as long as the elders asked her and Eli to do it, as long as they believed that the power of twins would bring them good fortune and more answers than they knew what to do with, she would participate.

Hell, as long as her brother asked her to do it, she would.

Because unlike herself, Eli seemed to love the ritual. She figured it had something to do with the fact that he wasn’t the one who had to smell like incense for the next week. Which was absolutely stupid because as twins they should have been treated the same, but because she was the bard of the family, he didn’t have to smell like burnt herbs every time the elders decided they wanted to find an answer on how to end the drought.

“Roxie?” A voice startled her out of her thoughts. She spun to find Eli in the doorway of her changing room, leaning against the door and smirking. “I called your name like five times.” She stuck her tongue out at him. Because she was a very mature adult.

Usually, looking at her brother was like looking in a slightly distorted mirror. Since they were twins, they looked almost the same. They had the same light green eyes, the same bronze skin, the same general build and face shape. But on ritual days, looking at him was like looking at a stranger. Where the black around his eyes somehow looked right in place, hers contrasted too much with the lines of orange across her face, making her look more like a pumpkin. Where Eli normally wore neutral clothing, ritual days required him to wear deep blue robes with small, silver bells attached and washed him out. And then, of course, where he usually never cared about his hair, his wild curls had been wrestled back, nestled firmly underneath the white and blue mask he’d slip on once the ritual started. Ritual Eli was nothing like Normal Eli. If she didn’t know better, she’d actually assume they were two different people.

“We’ve only got a couple minutes ‘til we need to start.”

“I know.” Of course she knew. No matter how used to attention she was, it was always hard to get up in front of a crowd of onlookers to give an offering to the gods in hopes that she’d be granted a prophecy she didn’t even really want. “I just don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.”

He sighed. Roxie understood his frustration, at least. She’d never fully understand what was going through the elders’ minds, no matter how many times Eli tried to explain it to her. “They’re just trying to help.”

“Aren’t there better ways to help? Researching magic, looking into curse breaking, anything like that? Something that doesn’t involve placing the hopes of an entire country on a prophecy that a 17-year-old girl may or may not have?”

Eli sighed again. “It’s been 150 years. Don’t you think they’ve tried everything else?”

It had been 150 years since the drought had started, 150 years since the traitorous mage Sabrine had cursed the land, 150 years of the mages of Edrus being imprisoned and forced to work their lives away to try and reverse the curse.

“Magic evolves, doesn’t it? That’s what Mom always tells us.” She knew it was a stupid argument. She had pulled the exact same card on him the year before. And the year before that. And probably before that, too, but she didn’t bother remembering that far. She knew his answer word for word before he even opened his mouth to reply. “Magic can’t evolve if all the mages are locked away, I know, I know.”

Eli glanced at her, something almost afraid in his eyes. It was a look she knew all too well. Every mage in their village had worn it at least once. But still, she hated seeing it on her brother. She wanted to say something, anything, to comfort him, but he turned away before she could.

“Come on.” His voice became muffled as he slid the mask over his face. “You wanna get this over with, right?”

“Right.” She followed after him, down the long, narrow hallways of the temple, brushing her fingers against the cool, white marble. The temple had sat in Ayrith for as long as anyone could remember, built long before the village of Ayrith by settlers from Afrea. That was the one good thing about the rituals, she thought. After Ayrith had been founded, the Kingdom of Edrus had forced the settlers to worship the Edrusian gods, and the old temple had fallen into disuse. Having these stupid rituals gave the old building a purpose beyond a fancy storage shed.

She followed Eli up the long, spiraling staircase that led to the second floor, her heart thumping. Once they got up to the second floor, it was only a few steps until they were at the balcony overlooking Ayrith’s main square. Once they got there, the ritual would begin. The ritual that would supposedly bring her visions of how to end the drought. For some reason, it made her stomach twist.

Prophecies weren’t unusual to her. She’d been having them all her life. So that wasn’t the problem. What was? What was it that was making her guts twist and wrench within her? What was it that was making her feel like the floor would crumble out from under her at any second? She reached out, grabbing a hold of Eli’s hand. He didn’t miss a beat before squeezing back.

“Ew, stop acting like the older sibling.”

She could hear him snort a laugh behind the beastly mask he was wearing. “You’re only 7 minutes older. That doesn’t count. Besides, you’re the one that wanted to hold my hand.” He laughed harder as she ripped her hand from his and slapped his shoulder.

The distraction had been a nice change of pace, but they both fell silent as they stepped onto the second-floor landing. It was easy to hear the dull roar of the crowd below from so close to the balcony. How many people had come from the neighboring villages to watch some silly ritual? How many of them would leave disappointed?

“Scared?” Even if Roxie couldn’t see Eli’s face, she knew him well enough to know that he was smirking at her.

She huffed. “You wish. I’m way better in the spotlight than you.”

“And yet I’m the one who’s gotta be center stage.”

There was a moment of silence. She could feel waves of tension rolling off of her brother and reached out, taking his hand again and giving it a harsh squeeze, relaxing when she felt him squeeze back. It always felt better to her to be the one comforting him.

“Let’s do this.”

The crowd fell silent as the twins walked out onto the balcony, taking a small bow before sitting cross legged on the floor, clasping their hands in front of them. There was no room for the crowd to sit down, but they all clasped their hands together and bowed their heads over them.

Roxie took a moment to drink it in. The square was filled with people, packed together, all there to watch the two of them. It was almost intimidating. Ayrith was a small village, only a couple hundred people at most. All of them knew each other’s names. Now, looking out into the crowd, she could only pick out a couple of familiar faces mixed in with a sea of strangers.

With a deep breath, she let her eyes drift closed.

“We humbly ask you, O Gods of the Sun and the Moon, to accept the gift we offer.” The words of the prayer spilt from her tongue as easily as her own name. Part of her wondered if she had already learned the prayer before she even knew how to say her name. “We offer a gift for a gift. Please grace us with the answers we seek, a way to bring the rain.”

Eli clapped twice.

The crowd followed suit, almost deafening in comparison to the normal quiet of the village. She stood, backing away and letting Eli move forward toward the balcony’s edge. Honestly, she had never understood why Afrean gods decided they wanted songs and dances as offerings, but it was better than killing a virgin, at least.

Behind her, the elders prepared their instruments. They were all traditional instruments of Afrea, delicately crafted from dark wood and silver strings, embellished with carvings that she didn’t understand. As they struck the first note, Eli began to move.

If there was anything that she knew about her brother, it was that he was one of the most graceful people she had met, though years of dance training would do that to anyone. It was almost shocking watching him now, though. The boy dancing in front of her, all graceful turns and perfect movements, was a far cry from the boy she knew who would stumble and trip over his words and his own feet the moment he got flustered. It was almost amazing.

But she was only allowed a moment to watch him before she had to focus on her own part of the offering.

The words flowed out of her mouth like a river, carefully arranged to not distract from Eli’s movements. She knew the lyrics like the back of her hands, though she didn’t know what any of the words meant. Her father had been Afrean, but he hadn’t taught either her or Eli the language before he disappeared when they were 11. Still it was a pretty enough song, and distracting enough. Before she knew it, it was over.

Once again she took her place next to her brother, both of them dropping into small bow. The crowd bowed back as the twins turned and took the couple of steps back into the temple.

Eli pushed the mask back up onto the top of his head. He took ahold of the collar of his robes, trying to fan the sweat off of his face. “You’re so lucky you don’t have to do that in a mask. It’s so fuckin’ hot under there.”

“Don’t be a baby,” she snickered, pushing him with her shoulder. He stuck his tongue out at her. “No one would be able to hear me if I wore a mask. Even if I want to.”

She grabbed the mask from his head, despite his objections. No one was really sure what material it was made from, but the white was still cool against her skin, despite Eli’s claims that wearing it made him hot. Where her face paint, made to replicate the Sun Goddess, was all angles and sharp lines, the blue paint decorating the mask’s long snout was as curved as the horns jutting from the top of its head. It was made to look like a dragon, one of the many forms the Moon God had been said to take.

“Elijah, Roxana.” Roxie handed the mask back to her brother as footsteps approached them.

Philip, one of the village elders, stood in front of them, smiling gently. Sometimes Roxie thought that was his default expression. It was rare that he was ever seen without a smile on his face. That was probably part of the reason Eli took such a liking to him, seeing him as a father figure.

But a quick glance at her brother showed that Philip was the only one smiling now. When Eli spoke, his voice was tight. “It’s time?”

“It’s time.”

The walk to the inner sanctum was long and silent. The twisting feeling had returned, and Roxie once again felt like the walls were closing in on her. Based on Eli’s apprehension towards Philip earlier, she wondered if he had felt it too. If he had felt like something might actually happen this year.

The inner sanctum was the innermost room of the temple. For the ritual, the small room was decorated with silks hanging from the ceiling and walls, colored in reds and golds and pinks. The floor was littered with soft, colorful cushions and a small table stood in the middle of the room, holding nothing but a matchbox and a metal bowl, painted a bright teal, that held incense inside of it.

Eli sucked in a breath, but gave her a small smile. “I’ll be right here when you wake up, okay?” With that, Philip put a hand on her shoulder, gently leading her towards the middle of the room. She sighed as she sat down on the cushions, watching Philip move.

He lifted the matchbox, taking a single match out and striking it against the box. As the fire came to life, Roxie took a steeling breath. It was time. Time to see if the gods would be helpful for once in her life. Philip glanced at her, the smile gone from his face. She nodded despite the fact that his face felt like a bad omen. He nodded back and dropped the match into the incense bowl. It only took a moment for the room to fill with the scent of herbs and some other things she couldn’t quite place, things that she was sure had some abstract name that made no sense. But it was part of the ritual, no matter how much she hated smelling like burning herbs for a week afterwards. The incense was said to bring about prophecies, so it was necessary, since prophecies tended to be fickle little assholes who came and went as they pleased.

Sleep pulled at the edges of her mind, darkening her vision. Her pulse, which had been racing with apprehension, began to slow. Behind her, she could still faintly hear Eli and Philip talking softly, and why this incense had no effect on them when it put bards to sleep almost immediately was beyond her.

Everything went black.

When Roxie opened her eyes, she was standing on a cliff overlooking the ocean. The wind was screaming, crying for help, but she knew there was nothing she could do. Even though she could hear it, she couldn’t feel it. Nor could she feel the grass under her bare feet. She was there, but she wasn’t there. This wasn’t where she was meant to be, but it was where she was destined to be. Everything was wrong, yet exactly how it was supposed to be.

The sky was dark. Pitch black, not a single star or cloud in sight. Down far below her, the waves tossed and turned, discontented and angry. She couldn’t see the color of the dark water, but the foam was a sickening red. Sitting over the waves, hanging in the sky, was a glass box. Eli was kneeling inside of it, a fist pressed against the side. As he beat against the side, screaming soundlessly, Roxie could see his fear, his desperation. But he was safe in there. As long as he stayed, he was safe. Nothing would happen to him. Nothing could touch him. Nothing would ever hurt him again.

Why couldn’t he understand that? Why was he still fighting so desperately?

The glass cracked. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him to stop and not to break it. Her mouth fell open, but nothing could come out. Eli looked at the crack for a long second before rearing back and hitting it with as much force as he could muster.

All at once, everything came to life. The box splintered into a million pieces, falling into the sea. Roxie felt the scream she had been trying to force out rip itself from her throat as her brother fell, his body limp and lifeless, a bloodied sword lodged in his chest. The sky broke open, blood raining down over her. The sound of the wind changed, turning from a howling scream into a woman’s voice, repeating the same words over and over.

The wheels of fate have begun to turn.

The wheels of fate have-

She screamed for the voice to stop.

Until she felt the familiar cloth of her brother’s robes in her fingers, she didn’t realize she had been reaching out. Just as promised, he was right there when she woke up, his hands rubbing comforting circles into her shoulders and his face twisted with worry.

Usually, prophecies were broken and messy things that she couldn’t make out. But this on was easy to understand. It basically spelt everything out to her.

The only way to break the curse was for her brother to die.

#wip; thoe #though i'm still working on the first draft...hm...#long post under read more

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hopecountylovin · 6 years ago

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Hate That Damn Mistletoe

A Christmas drabble for my Hope County Records ‘verse

Warnings: None

The Hope County Records Annual Christmas Party was always a big to do. The venue would be poshly decorated for the season and all of the acts on the record would play a small Christmas themed set. There was an open bar and tons of shenanigans ended up happening by the end of the night. This year’s party was certainly no different.

The Resistance was one of the first bands to go on. They started with an acoustic version of their newest single Merry Christmas Asshole, she was sure to look Jacob in the eyes when she said her favorite lyrics “I’d rather kiss an old brick under the Mistletoe than you, ginger prick.”

In response, the asshole in question just shook his head and walked out the room.

Sure the song is a bit immature, but well The Resistance isn’t exactly known for their maturity. Quite the opposite actually. And it really didn’t excuse him storming out of the room anyways, the asshole. Now he sits on the other side of the bar unabashedly staring at her, drinking a beer.

They’ve finished their set and are at the bar having a celebratory round of Christmas In Your Mouth shots, they’re a staple at the party every year, and every year Rook and her band get absolutely obliterated by them.

“Glad we went early this year, meant I wasn't so drunk I fell off the stage like last year!” Sharky says as he passes out another round of the sweet shots.

“And the year before that.” Jess deadpans.

“Hey now, it's not Sharky’s fault these damn things are so delicious.” Hurk says as he finishes the shot, licking the glass.

Jess and Rook roll theirs eyes but smile. Though Rook can’t really argue with Sharky’s sentiment. Last year, before he fell, she sang a really ridiculous rendition of All I Want For Christmas directly to Jacob. Yea it was definitely better to go early and relatively sober.

Unable to ignore him any longer, Rook brings the glass up in a cheers toward Jacob with a smirk. She gives him the finger with her other hand. Again he shakes his head at her but raises his glass in response, a small smile on his face, his eyes though betray a hunger that no amount of food could satiate. He winks at her, and Rook can't help but bite her lip.

“Ahh booooo!” Sharky hollers at her.

“Come on Rook!” Her other bandmates say as they throw bar napkins at her.

“What?” she says, purposefully ignorant.

“Look we all know how this night’s gonna end.” Jess says

“Yea you all over the ginger asshole” Sharky interrupts her, then of course he and Hurk make a bunch of lewd kissing noises.

Jess sighs her thumb and forefinger rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Look can’t you just wait a while and hangout and get drunk with us first?” The other woman looks up at her with earnest eyes.

Rook hangs her head a moment then looks up at them “Yeah, yeah lets get drunk and do something stupid.” a smile lighting her face. She orders another round of the Christmas shots and a whiskey ginger.

They all groan again as her eyes wander over to Jacob..

“Hey I said something, not someone!” Again they throw napkins at her.

Once they get their drinks, they walk away from the bar laughing. She risks a quick look back, and yea he’s still watching her, biting her lip again she then looks down to her drink and follows her friends.

Hours later most of the bands have played, Sharky almost caught a Poinsettia on fire then he and Hurk lost a dance off with John and Faith. At one point, while Grace was singing a soulful version of Santa Baby, Jess and Rook climbed on top some of the oversized Christmas ornament decorations. Rook’s heel slipped and had Jess not grabbed her she would have fallen into the crowd. Everyone cheered when Jess caught her, it was a big deal. Both women made a show of it and bowed to the crowd.

Once safely back on the ground Jess and Rook meet back up with the guys who are talking to Eli and Wheaty of Whitetail Militia. Shortly after Faith comes up to Sharky with a glint in her eye. The woman whispers something in his ear then looks at him expectantly. He simply looks at her then nods with his mouth open and lets her take his hand leading them out of the banquet hall and to her room in the hotel upstairs. A few of the others whoop at them, and Hurk looks a little jealous.

Rook can’t help but glare and cross her arms, she’s never trusted that woman.

“Oh you have absolutely no room talk!” Jess says with an eye roll and a punch to the arm.

“Yea, yea I know.” she says as she dramatically rubs her arm.

A few drinks later and the party has started to die down. Judges is the last band to play. As Jacob walks on stage and grabs his guitar, he looks at Rook and winks.

Next to her Jess and Hurk groan, “I guess it's about that time, we’ll see you in the morning” Jess says.

“Yeah see ya later dude. Remember no glove no love, we don't need no ginger asshole babies runnin’ ‘round here!” Hurk calls out loudly to her as they walk toward the Rye’s and some of the members of Spread Eagle, who have posted up at the bar. Rook laughs at him and flips him the bird.

The band starts off with covers of Blue Christmas and Merry Christmas (I Don't Wanna Fight Tonight). And really it is just not fair that he can drink as much as he has been and still be able to sing and play so well. Rook would be an absolute mess on stage right now. She definitely has been in the past.

Then at the end of his set Jacob does an original song called Christmas in the Mountains. He meets her gaze when he sings the line “and I want to lock you up with me in my cabin in the wood, so we can spend the holiday together and forget all the other shit, only if we could.”

She swallows hard his eyes never leaving hers. It takes all of Rooks energy to remember there are still people around and she can’t just jump his bones here and now.

After he finishes his song he puts his guitar away, says goodnight to Pratt and the other band members then walks determinedly towards her.

As he reaches her he takes her face in his hand and kisses her hard. Any words she intended to say get lost in his all encompassing mouth. His big hands move down to paw at her ass as he walks her backwards.

He kisses her until she’s melted into his warm embrace and has to break for air. A dark chuckle leaves his lips as he looks at her with an evil grin.

“What?” she demands with a suspicious glare.

In reply he simply just looks up, his grin breaking into a full out smile when she realizes he’s walked them under mistletoe.

She quickly pushes him and walks away from the stupid plant. “Your an obnoxious asshole!”

He follows, grabs her wrist and pulls her back into him.

“You sure about that?” He smirks. “I’m not the one who almost fell to their death from a giant Christmas ornament.”

She slaps at his chest but there’s no real malice in it. “Fuck you Jacob.”

“Your gonna.” He says with a sharp smile as he bends down to kiss her again.

#jacob seed x deputy #jacob seed #hope county records #wrapping paper trash #christmas fic #my stuff #my writing

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a-little-international · 6 years ago

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The Height Of Summer

Summary: She’s a whirling dervish, and he’s trying his best to keep up.

Warnings: Alcohol, mild swearing, a lil bit of a thing called fluff

Words: 4448 (I got carried away, sue me)

A/N: damn, haven’t written anything in about three years but here we are???? I think this is some kind of extreme procrastination mechanism my brain has employed to get me through the trauma that is my final semester. Anyway, let me know what you think???

The Series: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

Chapter 1- Summer

House parties were always fun. What could possibly be better than getting a whole bunch of friends together, drinking beer, and blasting the music loud enough for the entire street to hear? Granted, they were probably a little old to be throwing down the way they did when they were nineteen, but having a civilised glass of wine in a fancy city bar didn’t quite cleanse them of the corporate world the way a good house party could.

And that’s how Summer Little ended up at this particular house party, having given next to no resistance to her friend Eli’s invite. Eli occupied the desk opposite hers in the office and the two of them had become fast friends though their mutual hatred of Jackson-From-Accounting. Eli also had to be the most popular person Summer knew; he seemed to be friends with every second person in Toronto and was constantly being invited to stuff like this, to which he, in turn, would always invite Summer.

This particular house party belonged to a guy named Brian – how Eli knew him, Summer wasn’t entirely sure. Definitely childhood-related, she deduced, judging by the very jolly greeting the pair had shared upon arrival. Lots of ��Jesus, dude it’s been too long!”, and “Oh look, you’ve finally managed to grow a beard!”

It had been an hour since then, and Summer had lost Eli to another group of people in the kitchen he seemed to be annoyingly well acquainted with – classic Mr. Popular.

Three beers in and Summer herself had buddied up with her own group of new friends. Everyone was sprawled across the couches and armchairs, the already pokey living room now teetering on the edge between cosy and cramped.

Shrieks of laugher and loud hollering filled the room, all eyes on Summer as she sat perched on the piano stool, giving a rendition of Smash Mouth’s hit song I’m a Believer that was so obviously bad it made it all the more funny. Her fingers kept slipping into the wrong chords, her voice a tipsy, off-key warble, the lyrics constantly being muddled and interjected with uncontrollable giggles.

This whole situation had started during The Great Shrek Debate (which seems to crop up at the majority of house parties, sooner or later), wherein opinions were divided between whether the first or second movie had the better soundtrack. Being three beers in, Summer had of course decided to announce that she had learnt how to play I’m a Believer way back in the day when her parents had sent her off to piano lessons in the hope she’d actually learn something more sophisticated, like Chopin or whatever. Chopin was decidedly not her style, and she’d used the few years of lessons to learn what essentially became the entire Shrek soundtrack. Really, she hadn’t played piano properly in years, but being able to halfway play such a classic tune sure was a good party trick.

Dramatically whipping her wild, blonde curls around, pretending she was performing at Carnegie Hall, she didn’t notice Eli and his group entering until she heard him exclaim a loud “Incredible!”.

Grinning she looked up, fingers still banging away on the keys, hitting more false notes than correct ones. Once she saw who was standing slightly behind her friend grinning right back at her, she pulled her fingers away from the piano like she’d been burnt, her face flushing a mortified shade of deep scarlet.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she snorted, clapping her hand over her mouth, a nervous laugh escaping through her fingers. World famous musician, Shawn Mendes, just kept grinning at her, his hand raised in a small wave.

Summer shot a look of panic and confusion at Eli, who in turn shot back a wide, shit-eating grin. “Shawn, this is Summer, and it looks like she’ll be putting you out of business soon.”

Everyone laughed at that. Summer did not. Summer was desperately wishing for the ground to open up an swallow her.

It was one thing doing a ridiculously bad, theatrical performance in front of a group of casual, drunk strangers. It was a whole other thing having an actual professional musician walking in on said performance.

“Okay, definitely not,” she managed to scoff in reply, pulling a face as she clambered away from the piano, taking a few steps back in the hopes she somehow wouldn’t be associated with it anymore in any way, shape, or form.

Shawn’s eyebrows raised, and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, “I don’t know, I reckon you’ve got yourself a smash hit there. Total headlining performance,” he joked.

Summer couldn’t meet his laughing eyes, choosing instead to train them on Eli – a desperate call for help. Eli, of course, was no help. He just shrugged, barely containing his amusement; he was enjoying this situation way too much.

“I think I need another drink,” Summer announced, letting out a shaky laugh, and moving to push through Eli’s group huddled by the door, right past Shawn.

Her heart was beating loudly in her ears, her brain practically shredding itself in its embarrassment. Summer was generally not one to be embarrassed easily, but then again this was hardly a normal situation. One does not simply go to a house party and expect to be walked in on giving what could really only be described as a mockery to music by none other than Shawn Mendes. What kind of planet had she arrived on?

Once in the kitchen, she made a b-line right for the 24-pack of Canadian Club that was sitting on the island, cracking open the first can she could wrangle from the box and tipping half of it straight down her throat.

A firm hand was placed on the small of her back, followed by Eli leaning over her shoulder, still grinning. Summer frowned at him.

Finishing off her gulp, she turned to her friend, “I hate you,” she said dryly.

“I love you,” Eli laughed back. “You’re such a legend.”

“I hate you,” she repeated again, nodding quickly as she crossed her arms across her chest. “Why the fuck…since when do you know Shawn Mendes?”, she exclaimed, his name coming out in a hiss.

Eli just shrugged, leaning against the island with one elbow, his other hand running through his dark mop of hair, “We used to play hockey against each other, wayback in the day. Cool guy, really, haven’t seen him in ages though.”

“Huh, I wonder why that is?” Summer quipped sarcastically.

Just then, there was a knock against the doorframe and leaning against that doorframe, knuckles still raised against the wood was Shawn.

“Speak of the devil,” Eli smiled widely.

Shawn’s eyes flitted to Eli and then back to Summer’s, his expression warm if not slightly bemused. “Just thought I’d come and say hi properly,” he said, his voice gentle. Taking a single, long stride towards Summer, holding his hand out for her to shake. “I’m Shawn.”

“Summer,” Summer replied, her breath seeming to get stuck in the back of her throat as she took his hand and shook it. It wasn’t an unusually long handshake, he didn’t hold on for longer than was necessary like in the movies, but Summer was still overly aware of how soft and large his hand was around hers and it made her heart swell. “I’m so sorry you had to witness me being a total disaster.”

The boys both let out small chuckles at that. “Don’t worry, I reckon I’ve definitely done worse in my time,” Shawn replied.

Summer knew he was only saying that to be kind and to make her feel less embarrassed, but nevertheless, it worked.

“Mate, you haven’t seen anything yet. When Mr. Brightside comes on, there’s no stopping her,” Eli wiggled his eyebrows at Summer, teasing.

Summer widened her eyes warningly at him, “Can you not, please?”

“She also knows all the words to Nuthin But A G Thang,” Eli continued, ignoring Summer’s horrified expression.

Shawn left out a loud laugh, raising his eyebrows at her, “By Dr. Dre?”

“What can I say? I have many talents,” she shrugged, deciding she better start playing it cool or Eli would never stop pushing her buttons.

Eli, however, had other plans. “Yeah, I hear she’s very talented,” he smirked, and Summer tried interjecting, knowing where he was headed, but it was too late. “A freak in the streets and in the sheets.”

“Eli!” Summer exclaimed, punching him in the arm. “I swear to God I will fight you.”

Shawn looked on extremely bemused, and his cheeks were flushed pink, whether from the alcohol or not wasn’t entirely clear.

“What? With these tiny little hands of yours?” Eli scoffed, grabbing them and waving them around. “Look Shawn,” he turned, pushing them towards his friend, “look how teeny tiny her hands are!”

Much to her surprise, Shawn reached up and took one of her hands in his again, inspecting it closely. “Mmm,” he nodded, giving her a half-smile, his head bowed low, “these do appear to be very small hands you’ve got here.”

“You’re both so annoying,” frowned Summer, pouting, her hands still suspended between the two boys.

“I mean…” Shawn trailed off, smirking, as he placed the palm of his hand flat against hers, the size difference really quite ridiculous.

Summer did her best to square up to him, trying to ignore the fluttery feeling in her stomach that had erupted the second Shawn decided to pull the Tarzan and Jane card. “Listen here, you abnormally tall human, you. We can’t all be –“ she broke off, pulling her hands free to wave them at his towering frame, “whatever you are.”

Eli slung his arm around her shoulder, “Babe, accept it, you’re just a little Little,”.

Summer rolled her eyes at him, “You always make that joke and it’s never funny.”

Eli grinned up at Shawn, “It’s funny because her surname’s Little, and she’s little!”

“I think that’s pretty good,” Shawn laughed, throwing his head back lightly.

Her rescue, her knight in shining armour, came in the form of Brian sticking his head into the kitchen.

“Dude, Shawn,” Brian started, as Shawn turned around to face him, “can you go down to the store and pick up two crates of beer? They’re already paid for and everything, they’re just not delivering anything anymore and I don’t want to leave the house alone with the hooligans,” he said, laughing, nodding his head right at Summer.

Summer scoffed indignantly, “I am not a hooligan thank you very much.”

“Never,” Brian winked back, shifting his gaze back at Shawn who was already nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, just give me the keys and I’ll be off. You guys want to come?” he asked, turning back to Summer and Eli.

In perfect synchronicity, Summer answered with a happy “yes”, and Eli scoffed a resounding “no”.

“Alright,” Shawn laughed, holding his arm out to Summer, motioning her to step out of the kitchen ahead of him. “Looks like I’ve got an assistant.”

It was a warm summer night, the type that’s just humid enough to make your face a bit dewy and your palms a bit clammy. The suburban street they were walking down was quiet, except for the faint rushing of cars in the distance, and a dog barking in somebody’s back yard. Summer had to engage her power-walk trying to keep up with Shawn’s long strides.

“You know where we’re going, yeah?” Summer asked, glancing up at him. They’d already been walking for about ten minutes, wrapped in a comfortable silence. She had been trying her best not to look too closely at the way the oncoming breeze was pushing his curls into his face, or how good his arms looked in the short shirt sleeves clinging to his muscles.

Shawn frowned down at her bemusedly, “Of course, Brian hasn’t just sent us out on a wild goose chase.”

“Would be pretty exciting though, you’ve got to admit,” Summer said, nodding decidedly.

“Excuse you, I think this is plenty exciting. You and me, out here, stalking the deserted streets of Toronto’s suburbs. What more could you want?” Shawn joked, “We’re like a vigilante group.”

Summer let out a loud laugh, running a hand through her messy curls, “I don’t think you’ve quite grasped the concept of what a vigilante is.”

“Just because we haven’t stopped any crime yet, doesn’t mean we won’t,” Shawn argued back.

Summer nodded, “Alright, I guess you could be the Robin to my Batman.”

“Why don’t I get to be Batman?!” Shawn protested, throwing his long arms into the air. Summer raised her eyebrow at him, “Because we wouldn’t want you damaging that pretty little voice of yours doing his ridiculous one, duh. I’ve got it all thought out.”

“Hmm…you really do, don’t you,” he replied, narrowing his eyes at her, sizing her up.

There were a few moments more of comfortable silence before Shawn decided to break it again.

“So…” he started slowly, moving in closer to her so he could nudge his arm against hers, “You think I’ve got a pretty voice.”

Summer could hear the smirk in his voice before she’d even turned her eyes up at him.

“I see you fishing for compliments, Mendes, and I’m not falling for it,” Summer shook her head lightly, turning her eyes back to the road ahead. She could see what looked distinctly like a liquor store right up ahead; their destination was near.

Summer heard him chuckle and it was so hard not to smile back at that sound. “Well I thought you also had a pretty voice.”

“Shut up,” Summer scoffed as they approached the store front, “we both know that’s a lie.”

“Yeah well,” Shawn shrugged, looking at her innocently as he pulled open the door and held it for her, “I’m trying to flirt with you, so just go with it.”

It took all of Summer’s willpower to not let her jaw drop to the floor, took all her concentration to maintain the light, almost nonchalant smile on her face as she passed under his arm and into the store. A brightly lit, cramped suburban liquor store was the last place she expected to be confronted with such a statement, and quite frankly she didn’t think she had the mental capacity to deal with processing it right there. Summer said absolutely nothing in response, the neurons in her brain firing so rapidly she couldn’t think to form a sentence.

“Pick up for Brian,” Shawn said to the clerk, leaning against the counter with both of his arms outstretched.

Summer, her heart racing like a jackrabbit, allowed herself to look up at his imposing form. She could clearly make out his back muscles, straining both under his weight and against the thin fabric of his shirt. His arms looked somehow both strong and soft, and all she wanted to do was reach up and run her fingers against his skin. His hair was a curly mess that might almost be able to rival her own. His cheeks were flushed, and she couldn’t believe how good he managed to look in the harsh, fluorescent light.

She was brought out of her total reverie by the loud clattering sound of the clerk placing the two large crates of beer on the counter, and Shawn thanking him.

Summer and Shawn had still not said anything to each other, even after a few minutes of having commenced their walk back to the house party. Summer couldn’t stand the silence. She also couldn’t stand the way his arms strained, and his breath deepened as he carried both crates, stacked on top of each other, for one more step.

“Hey, let me take one,” she piped up, stopping in her tracks and motioning to the crates.

“I can carry them,” Shawn shrugged, smiling down at her.

Summer raised her eyebrows at him and kept gesturing at him to hand her a crate, “Believe me, I know you’re very strong – I can see that clearly, but I feel like a knob just walking beside you without carrying anything, so hand one over.”

“You been looking at my muscles?” Shawn teased, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

Summer pursed her lips. “Again, with the fishing for compliments, what did I tell you? Now hand one over, come on.”

“Or what? You’re going to fight me, Little?”

“Watch me,” Summer cocked her chin up at him, challenging him to challenge her. Shawn met her eyes and she knew he was deliberating whether or not to continue this backwards and forwards.

“You’re not going to drop this are you?” Shawn asked, sighing, and Summer just grinned, knowing she’d won in that moment. He bent down to her level and Summer deftly grabbed the top crate, heaving into a more comfortable position in her arms.

“Okay, let’s go!” She announced with a swish of her hair, and she was off ahead of him, her short legs carrying her faster than he was expecting.

“You’re back!” Brian exclaimed as they walked into the kitchen, sliding the crates onto the island. “Shawn, you let her carry one?” he continued, giving his friend a judgemental look as he reached to unpack the bottles.

Shawn raised his hands in defence, “I tried to stop her.”

“There’s no stopping her,” said Eli, coming to his defence.

Summer nodded solemnly. “I couldn’t let him be the only one showing off his muscles. How can you expect me to deter your friendly neighbourhood criminals if I’m not flashing my guns?”

“I’ll have you know this is a very safe neighbourhood,” Brian said as he opened a bottle and brought it to his mouth.

“No thanks to Summer and I giving them a muscle show,” Shawn joked, shooting her a bright smile.

Summer smiled back, biting down on her lip. “Yeah, we established we’re your new vigilantes, you’re welcome.”

Eli looked between Shawn and Summer, narrowing his eyes slightly. “You guys were gone for half an hour and you’ve already teamed up, I can’t believe it.”

“Don’t worry, babe, you’re still my favourite,” Summer grinned, patting him on the cheek, but Eli just grumbled some more.

“We were just starting s’mores outside if we want to move out?” Brian suggested, heading for the back door.

Summer gasped in excitement, grabbing a bottle for herself before moving to follow, “You don’t have to ask twice!”

“Bloody love s’mores,” she heard Eli say behind her, and Shawn hummed in agreement.

Judging by the amount of people in the garden, the majority of which were huddled by the fire, almost half must have left the party during Summer and Shawn’s absence.

Summer went to take a seat on one of the padded deck chairs, but Shawn came dashing past and beat her to it, plonking himself down. She gave him an unimpressed deadpan look, to which he just responded with a smug grin and outstretched arms, beckoning her to sit on his lap. Thinking this was a bit forward and not fully trusting her level of self-control, Summer pointedly walked right past him and pulled up a plastic garden chair, choosing to sit on that instead.

“You don’t want to keep me company?” Shawn asked, the crackling fire reflected in his dark eyes.

Summer bit down on the side of her cheek, admiring how soft and warm he looked in the darkness. He really wasn’t holding back much and, quite frankly, it scared her a little. She was a sensible 23-year old woman with a stable corporate job, who admittedly, was also a bit of a loose cannon on occasion. But surely, she thought, she was not enough of a loose cannon to fall for the words coming from the lips of none other than Shawn Mendes, no matter how tempting. It was almost so easy to forget who he was, and she really wanted to just forget and dive in. But things are never that easy, are they?

“I’m sitting right next you,” she shot back, giving his arm a quick, sympathetic pat. She couldn’t quite help herself.

Shawn pouted at her, pushing his bottom lip out, his big brown eyes making her heart tremble a little, “I’ll make you the best s’more you’ve ever had in your life.”

“Talking a big game here, Mendes,” Summer smiled widely at him, taking a sip from her beer. “Impress me and I might reconsider,” she said, “the operative word being ‘might,’” she added on quickly, seeing his face light up excitedly.

“Okay,” Shawn started, as he leaned forwards and grabbed a marshmallow from the bag, shoving it over the skewer tip, “the key, my big secret – and you mustn’t tell anyone because it’s my biggest secret –“ he said sincerely, a small smile tugging at the side of his mouth, “is to start the marshmallow melting process from the edge of the fire. See, you’ve got to get it all soft from the side, you don’t want to just shove it in,” he continued, glancing back up at Summer to see if she was still paying attention. “Because if you make the rookie mistake of shoving it straight in the middle, you’ll just end up burning the outside but the inside won’t be all melty and nice.”

Summer nodded down at him, very sincerely, humouring him. Shawn was acting like he was a Michelin star chef and honestly it was equal parts hilarious and adorable.

“Look,” he continued, pointing at the marshmallow, “it’s starting to look a bit goopy, so I think it’s time to put it right in the middle and crisp up the outside. But we don’t want to overdo it, or you’ll just be biting into charcoal.”

“We definitely wouldn’t want that,” Summer agreed. She couldn’t pull her eyes way from him as he stared intently at the marshmallow now fully engulfed by the fire The light from the flames was bringing out a hundred different shades of golden brown in his hair, his sun kissed skin was glistening, his eyes flickering along with the erratic movement of the fire.

“Alright,” he announced, pulling the skewer from the fire to reveal, what Summer had to admit, looked nigh on like the perfectly toasted marshmallow. “I need you to hold out the two crackers with the chocolate,” he said, nodding at the other ingredients in bags on the floor. Summer followed his instructions diligently, smiling lightly.

“We’ve got to let the marshmallow cool down just a bit now, we want to melt the chocolate, not burn it. It’s a precious food that needs to be handled with tenderness and care,” he said, looking straight up into Summer’s eyes and for a split second she couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t talking about the chocolate at all.

“Mmm-hmm,” Summer hummed, any and all words getting stuck somewhere in the back of her throat.

Shawn slowly placed the perfect marshmallow on one side of the crackers and chocolate combination she was holding out to him, and then guided her other hand to complete the sandwich. He took it off her and squished the s’more together lightly, being extra gentle not to break the crackers with his big hands.

“Now,” he said quietly, almost solemnly, as he held it out to her, “are you prepared to taste the best fuckin’ s’more you’ve ever had, Miss Little?”

Summer responded with a little nod, “I think I am,” she said, glancing between his face, which was closer to hers than it had been all night, and the s’more he was offering.

She reached for it and placed all of it in her mouth, only breaking eye contact with Shawn once the molten heaven that was the marshmallow and chocolate combination coated her tongue. She could sense his eyes were still on her, and when she opened hers again, he could see the beginning of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“And?” he queried, his eyebrows pulling together slightly.

Shawn hadn’t lied. It was indeed one of the best s’mores Summer had ever had. She didn’t know what else to say other than to nod her approval.

Shawn’s face broke out in the biggest grin she’d seen all night from him, as he leaned back in his chair triumphantly, holding out his arms to her.

Summer’s cheeks flushed and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t help her widening smile. Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her veins, or the warm comfort offered by the fire, but in that moment her brain stopped caring about logistics and let her heart swell up. Without much hesitation, Summer got up from where she was sitting and moved into the waiting lap of Shawn Mendes, immediately feeling his long arms wrap around her small waist, and she felt safe. In that moment, she didn’t care what the other people in the garden were thinking, what Eli must be thinking, even what her own brain was thinking. She just felt safe and full of affection for the boy with the brown curls and warm eyes that was smiling so widely at her she couldn’t help but smile back and sink into his embrace.

“So this is nice,” Shawn commented, and she didn’t think it was possible for anyone to have sounded more smug.

“Not as nice as your s’more, but you set the bar pretty high,” Summer quipped back, shrugging as she reached up tentatively to wrap her arm around his neck.

“Ouch,” Shawn chuckled, dropping his head, “well how about I try flirting with you some more tomorrow and you can keep giving in to me,” he said, smirking up at her.

She knew she couldn’t say no to him, not when his hair was flopping into his eyes the way it was, and how distinctly she could feel each of his fingers resting against the fabric of her dress, giving her a light squeeze.

“As long as you don’t keep fishing for compliments, you know you won’t catch any with me,” Summer said, ruffling his hair lightly because it looked too soft not to touch.

“How do you feel about dinner?” Shawn asked, suddenly sounding distinctly less confident, only glancing up into her eyes quickly before looking back down at her legs on his.

Summer contemplated his offer for a few seconds, playing with the curls on the back of his neck. Then, when she knew she couldn’t string it out any longer because her heart might beat out of her chest if she didn’t start talking again, she replied with a simple “I get off work at eight.”

TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be added!)

@crownedbyluke

#c writes #my writing #Shawn mendes #Shawn mendes imagine #Shawn mendes fanfiction #Shawn mendes fluff #Shawn fic #Shawn x oc #the height of summer #Youngblood network #the height of summer chapter 1

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balambsy · 6 years ago

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5 Songs + Fav Lyrics

I was tagged by @sodiumflare - thanks for the tag!

Ain’t Got Far to Go - Jess Glynne

Birds fly, we turned finally free

Patience lost, I began to lose me

My advice would be take a breath

Close your eyes and take a step

She Don’t Want Nobody Near - Counting Crows

She don't want no one around

'Cause she don't want anybody to see

What she looks like when she's down

'Cause that's a really sad place to be

Hold My Girl - George Ezra

Cold nights and the Sunday mornings

On your way and out of the grey

I've got time, I've got love

Got confidence you'll rise above

Old Pine - Ben Howard

We stood

Steady as the stars in the woods

So happy-hearted

And the warmth rang true inside these bones

As the old pine fell we sang

Just to bless the morning

Even if it Breaks Your Heart - Eli Young Band

Some dreams stay with you forever,

Drag you around but bring you back to where you were

Some dreams keep on gettin' better,

Gotta keep believin' if you wanna know for sure

Tagging @busanduo and @xdramarama and @kmyoujn and @moonyeyedwalrus and @scottietrademark - only if you want to, of course!

#tag #this was fun #doing this on mobile was an Adventure #balambsy posts

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anywhereyougothereyouare · 7 years ago

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20180227 - I miss the hours in the morning and you in the morning hours Bright eyed, bushy tailed, Millie and her boyfriend were off to work this morning. For goodbyes, Millie walked me halfway to the train to the Costa coffee shop, depositing me in its mocha embrace. Millie had to go into Cambridge for work but recommended I wait an hour so that I could avoid being packed in like a sardine. I nursed my hot chocolate for a while, then sprang my secret plan. There was a large plain/mound nearby, about a 7 min walk. And seeing proper countryside landscape was one of the bonus objectives of this trip. Plus the frozen ground let my luggage trundle along nicely. One video message later I was ready to leave. But there was a grand looking hill nearby. I wanted to climb it, but it was a bit far away, I did have luggage, and I did have a long journey into Bristol. But I'm traveling solo. I'm my own timetable. No ties to anyone or anything, only what I can do and what I can't do. And my luggage can transform. Into a hiking backpack! So I suited up and got hiking. It was about another 5 mins to the peak, and what a view! If I knew the direction I bet I could have seen Ely perhaps. There was even a park bench at the summit. It was dedicated to a dear passed away fellow who loved this spot. They had a right head on their shoulders. Down the hill, through suburbia and onto the train I went, full steam ahead to Kings Cross Station. This is the third out of my four 24hr charges for free train rides, and today I'd make the most of it. Kate finished work at 1600, and it was 1030 or so by the time I got into kings cross. I meandered around near the library (which didn't allow bomb sized luggage inside) and ate another Cornish pastie. Considered even going to the cinema. But the trains were freaking out and canceling at a moments notice due to the light snowfall. And I've never caught the train to Bristol before, who knows what complications might arise? I played it safe and boarded the train, knowing I'd get there like 3 hours early. One magnificently comfortable train ride later, one episode of Star Trek Voyager and most of Final Fantasy: the Spirits Within later, Kate bounded in to pick me up. Kate's place is just... Wow. Floral wood carved, large and many roomed, warm earthy colors, a grandfather clock with a squadron of other clocks to mark time in rooms it can't enter into. It's just beautiful and absolutely charming! As are her parents of course! Her father has an especialy Bristolian accent that took a moment getting used to. But, after a quick tour and unpacking, we needed to decide on dinner! Tonight was the night after all! The Front Bottoms are performing! We settled on domino's pizza, which was much better than the Australian version! Got dressed and Kate drove us out. She actualy lives in a satellite town a little way outside of Bristol so it was a short drive in. And on the way she pointed out the name of the band might make them less approachable. I didn't understand, they just seemed to be an abstract thing. Front Bottoms was the same as calling themselves "the left sidways" in my mind. Kate pointed out it could mean vagina. Ah... That makes far too much sense... I'm going to have to check up on that to see if it's intentional or not. Anyway, we got there and there was a giant queue for entry despite already buying tickets. The cavalcade of punk fashion on display meant this was the right place. So we moved to the nearby place of The Hatchet Inn, yet another centuries old pub, for a quick drink and chat while we waited for the venue to open. And it was a banging concert! First was "Brick + Mortar" who were realy weird and funny. One singer, one drummer, and o e groupie who wore a different costume for each song. Realy good crowd pleases with some great songs. Second was "The Smith Street Band". Pretty normal punk rock which didn't realy stand out, altho it was realy good and I think I heard some choice lyrics. Gona heck them both out. And TFB were amazing! Sang a whole bunch of my favorites I could shout along to, so much fun! Kate had been to the venue before and helped herd me to the top balcony where we got a superb view. I even got to watch my first honest to God mosh pit and wall of death go ahead! Some girls nearby asked for my help taking some ground photos, to which I obliged, and to which they complimented my accent! Later on one of them dropped their credit card and, after a while, I helped find it for them and they were so grateful. One asked for my name, and after I told them it was Goldie, she said "sick name!" That's at least three compliments on my hair, two compliments on my nail polish, and one for my name. Ears ringing, mind buzzing, we left. It might have been warmer, but I only needed my hoodie this time and I was fine with the environment. For once it was the native brit who was complaining about the cold :p Home, some light planning on my paper town map for tomorrow's plan, and then to bed.

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modernagesomniari · 4 years ago

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Mala Suledin Nadas - “Falon’Din Enal Enaste”

Part 4 of the Mala Suledin Nadas series, which follows Eli Lavellan through my current, ongoing playthrough of her. You can read it on AO3 here

This wasn’t actually inspired by anything in-game, but because I’d created Ghila and Yerevan to be with her at the Conclave, their loss hit me quite hard once Eli got to Haven. She is never given a chance to say goodbye. So I gave her one and made myself cry and probably got very self indulgent.

What we have learned from this - Varric is the Best Friend of all best friends, the ladies are good hearted to a woman, Cullen is more perceptive than he initially appears and Solas is a little scary sometimes.

~1900 words

Falon’Din Enal Enaste

It had been Varric’s idea.

She’d made charms for them both, in the hours spent sat in the cold, enclosed space of the Chantry temple, waiting for the shemlen to do whatever it was they had to do. From their hushed voices and frightened gazes, whatever they were doing was momentous. So she had used the time to scavenge what she could and sat there near a lantern, weaving and braiding. Her heart was very, very heavy.

The charms had been complete within a few days, before most of the recruits had been organised into the row of tents outside the gates. She had tucked them reverently into the pouch at her belt, because she hadn’t known what to do with them and was afraid someone would see them and decide that they were not what the ‘Herald of Andraste’ should have in their possession. She knew, if she had been brought to task on it, that she would have caused a fuss. It would probably have involved fire. Cassandra would not have been pleased. It was later that day, after standing in front of that throng of people feeling monumentally out of place next to a templar, of all things, that Varric had come to her. He had gently taken her hand, his eyes soft and kind and she had let him lead her to a small clearing just to the right of the temple. A little track led away from the stone and ended in a small clearing within the tress, a natural mound in its centre. At the top of the mound were too newly moved stones, their edges round and uneven, but someone had roughly carved their tops to be mostly flat. When she had looked down at him, her breath catching in her throat, he’d looked away from her to where the stone stood and told her, in his gentle, deep voice, that he’d had a Dalish friend who’d had to bury a member of her Clan away from the usual tradition. He only hoped that Eli wouldn’t be offended by how crude the shaping was - he was a surface dwarf, after all.

She had knelt by him in the snow and thrown her arms around his neck. The great mass of his arms was strange around her back, but he’d held her until she could breathe again and then allowed her to pretend it hadn’t happened. He’d just asked her what she needed and when she wanted it to be. She’d told him and when she’d started to wonder how she was going to get everything she needed he’d held up a big hand to stop her.

“I’ll get it done, Firefly. You concentrate on the important stuff.”

So here she was, standing on a foreign hill merely feet away from more shemlen than she’d ever been around in her life, with the first dwarf she had ever met quiet and solid beside her. Clasping the charms within her palms, fingers grasping at her own hands, she closed her eyes and opened her heart to the forest, to their Gods, to the two people she had lost. The tears immediately began to flow freely and she let them, taking slow and pained steps up the mound to the stones.

For Ghila she had woven leather died dark blue, found at the back of smithy, for her practicality in the hunt. Into this she had crudely carved a hare out of a piece of wood from the ruined houses, dotted the eyes with the red clay of the valley. This was for her ferocity and her passion for protecting her people, like her beloved Andruil. Finally, she had woven it all together with lamsbwool, for the softness in her when she allowed it and the gentle love she would have given her children had she been allowed to bear them. Eli’s tears fell hot onto the stone, quick hot splashes of grief on the ice that covered it.

For Yerevan she had started with that same leather, cut in half to have their last remnant of this world come from the same place. The piece of leather had been long, but it had come from the same beast. He and Ghila would be together in death the way that had pledged to be together in life. For the bright sun of Elgar’nan she had taken a smooth stone from the shores of the lake and carved his vengeful symbol into one side, reflected in the moon of the other. Yerevan had been so angry for so long after he ran from the alienage. His vallaslin ceremony had been intense and poignant - they had all wept for him and with him. And then they had all got uproariously drunk. The last was silk, strong and beautiful, like he had dedicated himself to his new family. All of them.

She took a few steps away and let herself cry a little, felt a like a child and wished desperately that Bri were here. The stones just looked so empty with just two charm bracelets on them. At home they would be piled high with offerings. The sight of the cold grey stone cut her heart almost deeper than their deaths. They had been so alone here. And now, without them…

After some time, a warm hand came down on her shoulder.

“I hope you don’t mind, Firefly, but honestly they all wanted to.”

She turned to him, frowning, then stood in her surprise. At the place where the line of trees ended, there were three shemlen women. Cassandra was there, as was Lady Montilyet and Lady Leliana. For a moment she was irrationally angry with every single one of them and it must have showed, because Cassandra took a step towards her, her dark eyes open and strangely vulnerable.

“You are not the only one to have lost those you love at that Temple, Herald. I hope you do not mind, but when Varric said that you needed time to honour them, we wanted to pay our own respects.”

“They carried you here and without you, there would be no hope. If your clan is anything like the ones I have seen, knowing them has made you who you are. As we honour you, so we wish to honour them.”

This came from Lady Leliana, who sounded so painfully earnest, like she held her soul tight to herself to not betray her own grief, that Eli found herself nodding mutely. Varric’s arm around her drew her away from Ghila and Yerevan’s stones, to the edge of the mound where he held her, waiting.

Cassandra walked with purpose, setting down a heavy amulet between the stones. Eli hadn’t had not come across the words of this prayer, but what she heard was well-wishing, respect and sorrow. That Cassandra used her own god meant nothing in the face of that.

Leliana came with grace, her fingers trailing over the stones. She laid small bouquets of elfroot and some flower Eli didn’t recognise on each of the stones. The first sentence she uttered was in what Eli assumed was Orlesian, but the second made her hold her stomach to keep herself from sobbing.

“”Falon’Din enasal enaste.”

Lady Montilyet struggled a little with the snow, but once she was at the top of the mound she knelt fully, placing her dark hand on each of the stones with a firmness and reverence that Eli could have sworn she felt on her own heart. She took in her hands a necklace of different coloured beads and a dagger with silver inlaid on the hilt and then turned to look at Eli.

“Which should I put where, my lady?”

Eli had to take a moment to speak, grief and gratitude pushing against her lips.

“Give the necklace to Yerevan. Ghila would have loved that blade.”

There was a wetness to Lady Montilyet’s eyes as she smiled, but she brought each to her lips, kissing it before offering it to the sky, the lyrical notes of Antivan soft from her lips in her prayers. After laying both, she stood and turned again.

“Commander Cullen also wished to be here, but he thought perhaps it would not be appropriate given the circumstances. He hopes, however, that you might accept these small tokens for your Clan members?”

At Eli’s nod, she reached into her bag and took out two pieces of paper, rolled and tied with simple ribbon. She placed one on each of the stones, then walked backwards, somewhat awkwardly, back to the trees.

It still wasn’t much, but both stones were more covered now and it gave her the strength to stand tall, away from Varric.

Her voice, when it came, started small and timid, but as she sang, it grew with the weightless mass of grief that lifted from her chest outwards, reaching for the stones. She engraved the images of the rock with gifts placed upon them into her mind, let her song hit the clear sky and banish all thoughts of those charred horrors up at the temple, the clanging doubt of whether she’d inadvertently passed one of them but not been able to tell through the ruin of their bodies. She looked up to the cloudless sky and let her grief soar up into it. It was hard not to find it heartbreaking how alone she sounded, until she heard a voice from behind her join her own. Lady Leliana, it sounded like. A hand clad in cold leather joined hers and it was strangely easy to let a shemlen join her in her song. They stood and they sang until their voices were hoarse, until the silence was loud and strange at the moment they stopped.

They didn’t speak afterwards, but each one of them laid a hand on her before they left, be it on her shoulder, the crook of her arm, even Lady Montliyet’s soft hand on her cheek. Then she was alone and the world was very still.

Only, not quite. Broken from her vigil over her friends’ stones, she noticed something in the woods beside her. Solas stood within the trees, the rough brown of his clothing almost blending him in to the winter bleached trunks of the trees. He was standing very tall and straight, his eyes fixed on the stones. She couldn’t read his face, couldn’t find any emotion she could recognise, but there was something very cold about him. Not cruel in any way, not even disdainful, which was what she might expect. Just aloof and very far away. She felt a moment of nervousness when his head turned so that he might look back at her, almost like she had forgotten he could move, that he wasn’t some sort of statue. The cold melted away from his face as he glanced at the only graves her friends would ever have before looking back. He bowed slightly, his eyelids fluttering closed and then he turned away and she watched his back disappear into the trees, feeling strangely ill at ease.

When she turned back, she gasped slightly, her fingers coming to her lips. Flitting above the stones, dancing slow and calm, were small orbs of lights. Some would morph into hawks, hares, a pulsing ebb of flame, or rays of a tiny sun that struck the silver on the hilt of the dagger or illuminate the dark of the wool.

This time, her knees hit the snow and she let the tears take her. Tomorrow she would be what the world needed her to be. Today, she would mourn.

#dragon age #dragon age fic #varric tethras #lavellan #solavellan #very early days tho #like they're still not quite sure what to do with each other #this one felt rushed but Josie makes me cry

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