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princess-of-riviaa · 3 years

Text

Claiming

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Erin Quincy (1st person POV)

Summary: You experience your first heat as a brand new shifter. Walter, being the good alpha he is, helps out his struggling omega.

Warning(s): depictions of animal attack, age gap (Erin is 25, Walter is 38), alcohol use, a bit of angsty Walter, dirty talk, possessiveness

Author’s note: This is my first piece of work I made for the ABO Universe. I hope you guys like it!

Word count: 3,931

Two weeks ago, I’d been on a camping trip with my two step-brothers, Scott and Chris, when my life had forever changed. One second, the hiking trail had been clear and safe; the next, some kind of animal was jumping out of the brush and fighting my breakfast sausage out of my hands. I later learned that the animal had been a wolf, but that realization only came when I had my first Shift three days later.

Though the night had escaped my memories, when I woke up in an unfamiliar mansion to an unfamiliar group of faces the next day, they filled me in on the details. The man in front—tall, with deep brown curls that were almost as distracting as his thick, muscular shape—had told me that I had Shifted the night before and ended up on their doorstep. And yes, Shifters—not werewolves, as most fantasy books called them—were real, Walter informed me during my surprised silence.

Walter Marshall—that was the stunning stranger’s name. He was an Alpha of one of the two packs that lived in this mansion, and I was more than welcome to join them. I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around what had become of myself—and I knew better than to hope that my family would understand—so I accepted the generous offer.

I had been with the pack for three weeks now. Winnie Marshall, Walter’s twin sister, was the Alpha for the mansion’s other pack. Walter had found me first—he had actually been the one to stop me from giving into my animalistic instincts on the night he found me, and had been the one to bring me in from the pouring rain—and technically had claim to me. But, because I hadn’t officially been claimed by him, Winnie argued that she had as much right to me as her brother did. So she took me under her wing. She’d explained everything to me, been there in my moments of panic and embarrassment to assure me that everyone goes through this, and it’s not going to last forever.

The only other two people in the house that were my age were two betas. One of them, a young man named Mike (though everyone called him Mikey), was the center of attention at the mansion, though he surprisingly had his eyes set on the quiet girl who loved books. Her name—I met her last, simply because she’d locked herself in the library for a week-long reading challenge—was Amber Connelly. As the only other beta under the age of thirty, she had an… interesting relationship with Mikey. And by that I mean they were both head over heels for each other, though they only ever bickered, and neither of them seemed aware of the others’ feelings. But they never acted on their feelings, and no one ever expected them to, simply because Mikey was Walter’s Beta, and Amber was Winnie’s, and packs didn’t mix, especially if their was a chance of a Claiming.

Claiming—that was the part of all of this that had intrigued me the most. It started with a bite. One person had to bite their partner directly over the heart, hard enough to leave a scar that would be there forever. In another sense, one wolf had to mark their partner as their territory. It was possessive in every sense of the word, and I couldn’t deny that deep down inside of me, I wanted to share that intimate, lifelong promise with Walter.

It was insane for a number of reasons. Not only had I met the Alpha just a few weeks ago, but I wasn’t even officially in his pack, and a Claiming with an Alpha would make me second-in-command. There were a few steps I would be skipping if that happened. Not to mention that Walter Marshall was the only unclaimed Alpha over the age of thirty-five in the entire city, and there was a reason for that. I didn’t know the details, but I knew it had something to do with his past. Our age was another factor. He was almost 40, while I had just turned 25.

And yet, here I was, wanting his mark anyways. He was quiet and reserved enough to make him mysterious, and that only pulled me in more. In the first week I was there, I found any way I could to talk to him, mainly to thank him for giving me a safe place for this new season of life. But he had disappeared with Andy and Charles Barber—two Beta brothers—for an entire week. Winnie had only said that they were taking care of business on the other side of the city, but when the three men came back, there was a darkness to all of them that told me whatever they had been doing… It hadn’t been fun.

Walter was harder to reach in the days that followed. When I would knock on his office door and ask him if he was able to train me today—something both he and Winnie insisted on their packs doing in their daily routine—he would snap and order me to leave, the sound of his growl following me out the door. He apologized for his behavior three days later, and bought takeout from my favorite restaurant to make it up to me, but I still couldn’t forget that side of him. The side of him that turned his soft blue eyes completely black. The part of him that was all animal, only selfishness and cold edges.

And yet, even after all of that, I still wanted him. I’d lost count of the number of times I’d woken up panting in the middle of the night, rising out of a dream of those blue eyes looking down at me as he fucked my throat, making me gag and cry around his cock. The sound of my own moans had forced me awake before dawn this morning. The memory of Walter’s intense gaze holding my reflection’s as he fucked me in the bathroom had followed me all day.

I was still wound up as I made my way to the game room. The smell of alcohol was strong throughout the house. The packs were celebrating Walter and Winnie’s thirty-eighth birthday tonight, and everyone, it seemed, was intent on getting blackout drunk. There were three kegs in the living room. It took Shifters a lot longer to get drunk, so I wasn’t surprised to find that the kegs were already halfway empty by the time I filled a cup for myself.

But I was surprised to find Walter perched on the roof when I made my way up to my regular hiding spot. He didn’t look over at me when I climbed onto the roof, but he didn’t seem startled when I took a seat beside him, and I knew his Shifter senses had probably heard me before I’d even climbed up the stairs that led up here.

“I see you stole my hiding spot,” I remarked as I took a sip of my beer.

“This way my hiding spot first, actually.” There’s amusement in his eyes as he looks at me out of the corner of his eye, but the amusement is only a cover. I note the darker emotion hiding beneath, and I recognize it instantly. It’s the same thing I’ve been feeling since my first Shift.

Loneliness.

“So technically you stole it from me,” Walter continued, giving me a ghost of a smile.

Though the air was light between us for once, I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “Why are you hiding on your birthday?”

He sighed and looked out at the valley below us. The city lights reflected in his eyes, making the blue in them sparkle. He chugged back the rest of his beer before answering, “I’m thirty-eight tonight.”

“So I’ve heard.” The light tone was clearly forced, but I continued anyways. “Congratulations.”

His long fingers parted thick curls before he clutched the roots of his hair and squeezed, looking frustrated and… defeated. “I’m thirty-eight—and I still don’t have a goddamn mate.”

Oh.

I didn’t know what to do. Part of me was more than ready to say, Take me. Claim me. I’ll be your mate. But I knew that was overstepping. I didn’t know how to comfort him.

“Walter—” I began.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t burden you with this. I think I’ve had a few too many drinks.”

We both knew that was a lie. He was too collected to be drunk. Everything—save for his brutal honesty—screamed completely sober.

“I just…” He went on, then stopped himself.

I put a hand on his arm and had to physically force myself not to lean into the warmth of his body heat. When his blue eyes met mine, I nearly lost control. God, I wanted him. I wanted to ran my hands through his hair; wanted to know the way his moans sounded as he filled me up; wanted to feel his mouth on me—

I shook my head in an attempt to clear my mind. “It’s okay,” I told him. “You can tell me.”

He hesitated.

“You’ve been there for me since I got here,” I pointed out. “It’s only fair that I do the same for you.”

His eyes scanned my face, and I got the feeling that he could see into my soul. It unnerved me as much as it made me want to bear myself to him. He finally said, “You don’t owe me anything, Erin. I was being a good Alpha.”

“You let a stranger into your home,” I argued. “That qualifies as more than simply being a good Alpha. There’s other packs in the city, yet you were the only one who opened your door to me. And you’ve let me stay here when you could have just as easily sent me away. You’re not just a good Alpha, Walter, you’re…” I almost said, you’re everything, but I caught myself.

But the way he looked at me… I had a feeling that he heard what I didn’t say.

“And maybe you think I don’t owe you,” I went on, “but I want to be there for you. I want to give you whatever you need.”

His eyes left my face to stare at the hand I placed on his arm. He reached for it, and at first I thought he was going to push me away, but he simply held my hand between his own. He opened my fingers and stared at my palm as if he was going to tell me my future. A thick, calloused finger traced across the lines on my palm. The touch was simple and gentle, but it made me shiver nonetheless.

“I’m the only Alpha in the city without a mate,” he finally admitted. “That fact has never bothered me before. I always liked being on my old. I thought I was better that way. It was enough always having to keep an eye on Winnie; I never had a want for someone else to look out for.”

“But now…?” I guessed there was a “but” in that sentence.

His focus was locked on his fingers as he traced the outline of my hand. Something about the way his rough skin felt against mine… It made heat stir in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t realize I had started to lean into him until there was just a few inches of space left between us.

“But now,” he finally said, and sighed. “Now I find myself wanting something I don’t know if I can have.”

“A mate?” Why couldn’t he have that?

“You.” He finally met my gaze, just as the words clicked in my mind.

Heat made my cheeks burn bright red as I repeated his words. “M-me? What do you mean?”

“I mean I want you.” His gaze was unapologetic, yet the twist of his mouth… I could tell he was fighting some internal battle. “When I first saw you in that back alley, hiding under that shed from the rain…”

I was silent as he spoke, simply because I’d never heard all the details of what had happened that night, and Walter was the only one with that memory.

“I had Shifted too,” he admitted. “The pack Shifts together on full moons. The Omegas and some of the Betas are less overwhelmed by it if we’re all together. But something had drawn me away from the pack, like some string had pulled me out onto the streets…”

Only once he said something did I realize that I did remember a part of that night. It wasn’t a memory of what had happened, but rather… a feeling I had gotten. Like someone had been calling my name and I had gone in search of them.

“I’d never experienced anything like that before,” Walter continued. “And when I found you, shaking from fear and the cold… I knew I had to do something. The urge to protect you was overbearing. So I brought you home. I told myself it just from the intensity of the Shift that I felt like that, but when you Shifted back the next morning… I knew I couldn’t just let you walk away. So I told you to stay, and I knew that if you had said no, I would have done anything to change your mind.”

“Walter…” My voice was a quiet whisper as my thoughts began to race. “Do you think… That feeling… I felt it too. Is that what…”

“What having a mate feels like?” he guessed.

All I could do was nod. Somehow I already knew the answer, but I needed to hear him say it.

“Maybe.” When his gaze met mine, I realized he looked as lost as I felt. “I couldn’t say one way or another; I’ve never had a mate. But if it is…” He finally dropped my hand, only to cup my face and pull me towards him. “Listen to me, Erin. Even if…” He paused, as if he was struggling to say it out loud, too. “Even if we’re mates, that doesn’t mean you have to choose me. You can walk away. Hell, you can even…” He practically flinched at these words, as if saying them was a physical blow—“You can even choose someone else. Another man. I’m not going to force you into anything.”

I didn’t know what to say. “I think I want another drink.”

Disappointment flashed in his eyes, but it was gone in a blink. He rose to his feet, insisting that he get it for me. I watched him walk away. He took four steps—and froze. His entire back went rigid, too stiff for a human. His Shifter instincts had picked up on something.

I froze, wondering what was happening, what he had picked up on.

But he merely turned to face me again. Slowly. “Erin.”

I tried to sense his source of distress, but I couldn’t pick up on anything. The only thing I picked up on was how that look in his eyes sent heat straight to my core. “What is it, Walter?” I was on my feet and closing the distance between us in a matter of seconds.

“Don’t move!” he practically yelled.

I paused, almost jumping at his volume.

His eyes were wild, frantic, looking like an animal caught in a trap.

“What’s wrong?” I asked again, resisting the urge to reach out to him.

“Do you know what’s happening to you?” Every muscle in his body was taut as he asked the question.

I frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He simply said, “You’re going through heat.”

Oh.

Winnie had explained that to me on one of my first days here. She’d said it happens to every female Shifter. Her hormones—particularly the horny ones—exploded, and every male Shifter around her could sense it. Apparently, it drove the males as crazy as the females, though it was dangerous to be an Omega—specifically an unclaimedOmega—around any Alphas while in heat.

That’s why Walter wasn’t moving, wasn’t even breathing: he was trying not to pounce on me and take what he wanted. What we both needed.

All those dreams about him… They finally made sense. I was preparing for my first heat.

Only once he brought it to my attention did I realize just how hot I was. My heart was hammering in my chest, flames boiling beneath my skin, and—god, when had I gotten so wet?

“Walter…” My voice was a high-pitched whine.

“You’ll be okay.” He didn’t sound convincing in the slightest. The look in his eyes matched the relentless ferocity rising in my core.

God, I needed him. “Please…”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t, Erin. We’re both unclaimed. I won’t be able to control myself—”

I took a step towards him—and practically cried out. The burning in my core—between my legs—it was unbearable. I needed to ease the ache inside of me. My hand moved of its own accord towards my legs, and before I knew it I was touching myself over my jeans.

Walter’s eyes were locked on my hand. “Erin… you’re killing me.”

“Please, Walter,” I begged, my body no longer under my control. “I need you. I can’t breathe—”

That was when he kissed me. He wasn’t the first person I had kissed, but he felt like the first person who mattered. Our mouths molded together and I moved against him in a way that said, I’m choosing this. I’m choosing you.

“God, I can smell you,” he breathed into my neck, his low voice nothing more than a moan. “You’re already wet for me, baby.”

All I could do was moan as he pressed me against his erection. His mouth trailed down my neck, over my clavicle, and stopped over my heart.

“I want you,” I cried out as I ran my hands through his hair. “Mark me, Walter. Please.”

He brought his mouth to my chest, but he didn’t bite me like I expected him to. Instead, he brushed a soft kiss against my skin. I whined as he pulled away and moved me from his lap.

“Did I do something wrong?” I panicked, feeling like an idiot—

“No,” he assured me. “You’re… god, you’re perfect. But I’m not about to fuck you on the roof. I doubt you’ll want the entire neighborhood to hear you moaning for me.”

My face flushed instantly, but I didn’t say anything as he rose to his feet and pulled me inside, not stopping until we were in his room. An Alpha’s room was a place very few people ever saw. It was more intimate than a regular bedroom; it was stepping into his territory, walking onto his turf, and I knew that something had permanently changed between us as I crossed the threshold into the room.

The room was rather simple. A king-sized bed was pressed against the left wall. The crimson sheets were the only color in the room. The right side of the wall had a desk covered in files and papers. Newspaper clippings hung above it, stamped into the wall with thumb tacks. I didn’t have a moment to read what all the papers were about before Walter distracted me.

He arms wrapped around me as he lifted me up in the air. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. I clung to his shoulders, but he held me easily, as if I weighed no more than a few pounds. The show of pure strength did nothing to help the wet mess between my legs.

Walter walked us to the bed and lied me down on my back. He hovered over me but didn’t move to touch me. The longing and lust in his eyes was so vibrant, so undeniable, that I writher beneath him.

But his tone was calm as he said, “I need to ask you again. Is this what you want, Erin?”

“So much,” I breathed before pulling him against me.

His thigh moved between my legs, and he deepened the kiss as his leg pressed tightly against my core, applying pressure where I needed it most. Though our hands ran along each other’s bodies in a hungry frenzy, he kissed me differently than he had on the roof. It wasn’t rushed or desperate this time, but rather deep and slow and just as sensual. My toes curled.

I cried out as his mouth moved to my ear. He nipped at my earlobe—an action that sent shivers through my body—before whispering, “What is it, baby girl? What do you want? My fingers?”

I writhed against him.

“My mouth?”

Oh, fuck.

“Both?”

A wanton moan escaped me before I could stop it.

“Or are you already too desperate? That’s what it smells like to me. My little omega’s falling apart and I haven’t even touched you yet. You’re already desperate for me to fill your aching cunt, aren’t you, baby girl?”

His tone was different than I’d ever heard it. He spoke in a low, husky voice, and his tone was teasing but demanding at the same time. It made me dizzy.

“Already forgotten your words, omega? Has the heat gotten to your brain?” He buried his face in the crook of my neck and rubbed his nose along the skin below my ear. He was scenting me. “Or is it your Alpha who’s gotten to you?”

Instead of answering, I clawed at his clothes desperately, trying to undress him in my lustful haze. He allowed me to take his shirt off, though he undid his pants himself. His body… how was he even more impressive naked? I took one look at those sculpted muscles, at the dark swirls of hair that covered his chest and stomach, and knew that that was the kind of body that put the gods to shame. His cock bounced against his stomach as he stepped out of his underwear. It was thick and long, and as I watched the red, aching tip release pre-cum, I wondered how I could possibly fit his girth inside of me.

“My turn,” he breathed before moving to hover over me again.

One minute I was clad in my shorts and t-shirt, and the neck my clothes were in shreds on the floor. Walter’s hungry gaze made note of every inch of skin I beared for him, and I was too fucked out to feel self-conscious.

“Fuck me, Alpha,” I begged. “I need you inside of me!”

He growled before spreading my legs and pressing his length against my core. Our lips met just as he pushed inside me, and my nails dug into his shoulder at the burst of pleasure that ripped from me. His mouth was on my chest a second later, and as he kneaded my breasts in his hands, his teeth cut into the skin over my heart.

Claiming me.

...

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#walter marshall #walter marshall night hunter #henry cavill smut #walter marshall smut

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matchamorphosis · 3 years

Text

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 || you and Andy go on a trip to Greece for your birthday and discover the love you have for one another.

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 || fluffy fluff

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 || andy barber × black[birthday girl]!reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 || 5.2K

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 || jealousy, some rom com cliches, divorced!andy, i used like six different dividers to match with the storyline so very sorry if that’s unusual to you!

𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔 || past lives by bornes. mariposa by the peach rascals. apricot princess by rex orange country. out like a light by the honey sticks & ricky montgomery

𝒘. 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 || this is a birthday gift for @areyoustchewpid!!!! happy birthday ingrid!!! everyone go wish the birthday girl the best for her special day! 💗 I hope this fic fulfills your dreams of Greece with lawyer daddy and i hope you cherubs enjoy reading this <33

+ p.s || do not repost, republish or plagiarize my work on any other fanfic platform such as: wattpad, ao3, tumblr, etc or steal my work all together. do so and i will rip your spine from your scumy asshole and shove it down your talentless throat. ♡♡♡

THE GOLDEN FLICKER OF PALE PINK CANDLES CREATE A HOLY CHASTE HUE AGAINST BASHFUL SMILE BRIGHTENING YOUR FACE.

an event that you’ve been expecting all day yet while a firm chestnut table sits underneath your crossed legs cools as a sweetpea and seasalt ocean breeze blows into the dining room your expectations have somewhat been granted and changed. where only a three layer chocolate cake sits between you and Andy, both your lovestruck eyes never leaving each other despite the comet rippling starry sky glimmering from the white paneled windows.

everything is all sparkling, soft pink and golden at this moment.

from the rosy dawned blush that grazes against Andy’s cheeks to the blushy tone of your sundress and beating heart. candles sparkling to life as you and him in the very moment, wax melting in rosy dewdrops just like the fear of allowing these caged emotions to fly free. now they seemed to have been unrestrained by the gold bars of worry, aversion, and self committed rejection.

simple cursive writing made of periwinkle icing contrasts against the dark fudge confection this dearest friend of yours created. this friend who might have been something more in a life way beyond this year and century but as your heart beats in a melody casted by the Muses themselves it pirouettes with the cupid bow lights dancing in Andy’s pools of hopeless paradise. it’s all enough for you to lace your fingers with his-which you do- and wish for something else to spread against your lips besides the cake you both will cut in a minute after you blow your candles.

the words below your cupid struck glance read Happy Birthday Y/n in the divine candlelight, a squeeze of his hand only encourages the rapid pace of your heart to jump and for you to swallow your hesitance. a very same feeling floods Andy’s insides but for the past minutes just sitting directly on the table, lighting your candles and enjoying the meteor shower, he hasn’t kept his promise to himself.

a promise he made for himself since the beginning of today when he discovered how his palms sweat when you neared him and how his heart warmed when you spoke his name and how his soul just sang a different song when you took his hand.

he should say something now, he should tell you how much you mean to him in this different roseate light. maybe you’ll say the same words back and maybe with the rush of the rose glasses besides you both one thing may lead to another but what comes out of his mouth makes him bite his tongue. “I hate to break it to you but wax is getting on the cake,”

those words snap you out of your amour aura, eyes fluttering for a second and smiling afterwards when you see Andy fidgeting with the crystal glass in his large hands. cheeks reddening like ripe strawberries glowing in the warmth of spring, it radiates the space between you both and with an almost whisper to your name he has your hands in his soft palms. “what do you wish for y/n?”

the question makes you swallow the raspberry rose laced lump in your throat. the love potion for an innocent drink still glistens in your glass that rests beside your body but it would spill if you would do the simple action your heart has been caressing your mind to just pull his collar down to smash his lips against yours.

to feel the tender roughness of his bearded cheeks in your palms and his lips molded along with yours in a kiss that would put all sculptured lovers to shame. it’s making you sink and float at the same time but the sparking second that Andy leans down you oblige.

“i’m sorry for not realizing it all those years,” it makes your brows scrunch in slight confusion at the confusion, his cool apricot breath wafting and twinning with your airy exhale when his nose grazes against yours. the heat of the candles underneath your close faces, you raise your hand to cup his face.

“realizing what?” its then did the breath escape your lungs and your heart to stop beating.

seeing her open her eyes the very morning brought a different comfort than to watch her sleep- it was a normal thing to wake up but to experience her lashes fluttering to life to reveal the life in her sun speckled eyes was something for Andy. she rolled over, burying her face in the crispness of white sheets with a lazy grin.

through the honeycomb glass of the white portiéres of the hotel room, the soft sunshine of the province morning streams in and lights the bedchamber. the melodic sound of birdsong and light chatter slowly rouses her awake. Andy is seated in front of the swan feathered colored vanity, combing his hair and keeping the time on track on his watch.

the man had loads planned for you both today, a day planned for you both to be bone tired at the end but still reflecting on the memories and experiences once you laid your head to rest to sleep when it was over. the tapping rhythm of his polished tar black dress shoes fills the room, making you part open your eyelids to see who’s disrupting your peaceful second slumber.

“morning sleeping beauty, happy birthday,” he almost sing-songs, a slight whistle in his voice completely overtaking any fiber of drowsy and sleep riddance that enveloped your mind and body.

“morning Andy and thank you,” you grin with your porcelain smile, stretching your arms while simultaneously lifting your sunkissed legs. arching your back in a firm crane, yearning a deep yawn from you as you savour the sunshine on your ankles and naked shoulders.

“so I have a few things planned today but I thought it would be best to eat breakfast out at the cafe we talked about instead of ordering room service. what do you think?” his eyes focused on you in the mirror and you have no choice but to glance back with your remark weighing on your tongue.

so after a smile that was more than enough to let your childhood friend know that you were along with him for the ride you found yourself ready for your special day. a slightly puffed sleeve and flowy mint green sundress adorns your bodice softly, making you radiant in the morning sun that appears to be a glowing lemon slice across the cloudless skies.

arms securely wrap around Andy’s waist as he guides the scooter the same color of the sparkling sea and reflecting powdered blue vault above. hanging on to him as he brings you both to the tiny yet timeless cafe near the roaring pier of crashing waves and ancient cobblestone streets. the bouquet of large sunflowers that were tenderly hugged tightly between both your bodies are now free in your hold. their sunshine yellow petals sway in the morning breeze and take in the virtuous sunshine that rains in golden streaks on this magical day.

taking your seat near one of the outdoor tables, shaded by the umbrella the same color as the satin banner you both order your first meal as the waiter set your beginning entry of cheese, grapes, croissants and wine on a pine wood board in between you two. street cars come and go, along with passing people looking for special sites of eternal Athens Greece. the ocean bringing a calm sea mist breeze that only adds onto the refreshing and ecstatic tangibility seizing your atoms yet as you both talk about the plans you have for today.

although the words of the waiter coming to refill your tall glasses breaks both an uncontrollable smile and laugh between you both. “couples get a discount,” he spoke and you both had a dime for when you both were mistaken for a couple you’d be swimming in a sea as large as the one that captures your irises and heart.

with his confusion Andy quickly nods along, “yes we’d take that discount thank you,” and the waiter smiles back as he steps away after filling your glasses and informing you about your meal which you both thank back.

“Andy I thought we weren’t gonna take advantage of discounts by pretending we’re a couple anymore,” you broke with a raised brow and Andy only rolled his eyes in any way that wouldn’t ever be taken seriously by anyone despite his job disposition.

“awe come on y/n let's relive old times! do you wanna pay full price when we’ve been doing this for years?” Andy looked at you through a playful demeanor that you only recognize when he’s concocting and getting away with something as seemingly harmless as this.

“i’m not really fond of the backlash when it backfires on us in the end,” you speak as you bite into a butter croissant, the rich pastry practically melting on your tongue. “also you’re making us sound like some sort of Bonnie and Clyde duo. doesn’t look good with that attorney license of yours Barber,” you laugh as you return the same eye roll back as you sit up with your glass in hand.

“remember when I booked us a reservation at that restaurant when we were in college and I freaked out over the bill? I ‘proposed’ to you and once everyone cooed and congratulated us we got our bill cut in half-”

“and I nearly kicked your ass afterwards, yeah Andy my foot is remembering the loss,” you intervene which makes Andy shake with loud laughter enough to make all the other pairs -real couples instead of you sly imposters- stop from their conversations to glance at you two breaking into hysterics whilst eating green grapes and sipping on white wine.

“to be fair we were broke college students! money was tight as hell back then but I didn’t see you complain when I got on my knees and put a ring on your finger. I thought the rhinestone looked very good with your dress that night,” popping a grape in his mouth with a humorous smirk etched on his lips.

“i’m sure you were looking forward to saying that when you gave me a kinder surprise from a candy machine.” rolling your eyes as you bite into another golden croissant, pairing it along with a nibble of creamy cheese that taste heavenly on your tongue.

“alright you can hold that against me I still deserve it,” Andy still remembers the other students in his seminar congratulating him and some who didn’t know about his engagement and divorce to Laurie still believe he’s engaged to you. it was funny and seems like something straight out of the cheesy rom coms he and you used to binge together as bored high schoolers.

that you and him used to scoff and egg on the oblivious main protagonists to just kiss and push away the denial to just be together but amongst all these couples in the morning light at this café it’s you two reliving your movie annoyances. it was hilarious and unfortunately ironic but Andy Barber didn’t see anything or comprehend the knot in your stomach when you took his hand and said something he couldn’t quite hear.

all he was paying attention to in the slow-motion picturesque of your gleaming smile, the sparkle in your deep lashy eyes and how your lips moved so theatrically as you spoke his name.

Andy, Andy, Andy

eyes glossing over in wonder, it was possibly the prettiest thing he’s seen and he’d wish to hear you say his name one more time. heart yearning to just catch your lips movement yet as his mind wedges himself back into reality he finally catches what you’ve been saying.

“Andy our food is here,” you said as the waiter came with your large glass plates of oven baked pizzas. the comforting rich smell of toasted cherry tomatoes, mozzarella cheese and freshly baked dough fill his nostrils. it's enough to cover the lush sweetness of your Dior perfume he loved taking a whiff of when you'd lean over the table to sneakily reach for his grapes and croissants.

“um, yeah thanks for the heads up,” he spoke in almost a broken sense of charisma compared to his boyish behavior minutes ago but it’s just now that’s Andy denying the feeling-

the seed of amorous that had been planted in his heart a long ago that’s beginning to sprout now.

after roaming the creaky wooden piers with the sunshine twining divinely against your hair and every inch of revealed baby soft skin. a clementine in his hands and an apricot in yours, feeding the peels to the doves that rest besides the ancient stools as Andy give hands you cardinal slice after citrusy cardinal slice.

dangling both your legs over the docks and enjoying the way the rippling waves brushed against your curling toes. sweet orange and apricot filling your mouths like the sun spreading its orange and blush provenance across the aqua waters. lonely fingers fondle with your citrus fruits that you bought with wo shiny coins from a passing vender in a straw sunhat.

savoring the ocean blue and the sunny sky revealing the cotton white clouds that dot like dollops of whipping cream upon it. the sea breeze dancing with strand hairs, the topic of a greenhouse visit sparks and a sense of adventure rushes though bloodstream. within a matter of seconds you both race to hop back on the forget-me-not scooter.

inciting a school children challenge on who’s going to get there first and with the swiftness of putting your sandals back on and running against the mossy and dandelion cracked cobblestone had you seated on the bike. “I win,” you grin and of course Andy just gives you a fauxly hurt demeanor.

“you cheated,” you only hum back at his petty exchange, playing along for his sentiment until he sighs in his defeat. with the engine starting off you and him race to the glass palace that is the greenhouse.

a golden rimmed and sea mist colored empire, it stood out to you when touring the tiny city of colorful roof houses and marketplaces. mossy vines and leafy thorned shrubbery beautifully frame the interior pillars as rich golden sunlight fill in the glassy castle. cement molds create the railing for the lily pad and swan lotuses of the man made ponds. an occasional jasmine frog leaps from pad to pad as the milky pink and yellow koi’s swim about in the shadowy water.

exotic trees and wild plants bunch throughout the establishment, creating shade against the Apollo’s heavy rays as Andy lifts his head to marvel these large and tall works of Artemis. of course, with your polaroid camera you found in the rummage of your closet (that you haven't used since senior year of college) in a tight hold. wandering feet walk through the limestone pavement of the greenhouse, a sunflower in your hair that brightens the deep greens succulents and rich browns tree bark.

the vines of soft pink and purple flowers dangling from the glassy dome roof fall their baby pink petals as a breeze presents itself. some already settling in the brown tawny of Andy's hair, not far behind you smile at your face glossed in wonderstruck marvel. wide honey brown pools trail up the ten foot marble and ivory statue, reflecting in serenity cosmoses from the rainbows that spread from the crystal glass.

a sense of desire takes ahold of you as your slowed hands lift to trace your dark fingertips through the crinkle wrinkle of a marble maidens skirt. such detail and intricate design of the craftsman long ago must’ve took years to perfect, the cloth falling seamlessly upon the maidens body as her body crouches to run your clay hand again at the pond water. lifting your camera to your eyes, snapping your desired pictures that are set to capture all the whimsical aspects and elements that take your breath away.

Andy dares to draw near, it wasn’t like he hasn’t stood close to you at all- he might be making it hard on himself by overthinking ever move and step but you call out his name and his heart paces.

“yes y/n,” making his way to where you sit near a pond, you don’t say anything as you wrap the strap for the camera around your neck. fixing up your dress from any wrinkles from scrunching the hem up when dipping your feet in the sea earlier. checking your hair and make up in your hand mirror that you retrieved from your designer purse. an arched brow raises up at you, which you only respond by rolling your eyes and hand him the camera as you smile at yourself in the reflection of the ponds water.

“can you take a picture of me?” as you reapply another layer of gloss on your lips, the fishes swirling in the water to jump to the service to witness the beautiful nymph who have graced their pond themselves.

cupid bows perk at the fish and blow them kisses, your hands grab at a floating lotus before grasping the tender water blossom. putting it in the raven coils that delicately frame your face, damn it y/n.

it was as if you were torturing him with those mascara bambi eyes and glossy primrose lips, it makes his insides buzz and flutter like the malachite dragonfly that passes here and there.

“you telling me you want a picture or did you already decide for me yourself?” you only smack his chest with the camera once again.

“are you going to take the picture or not Barber? did you loose some of your magic with all that lawyer jumbo clouding your head or did you take those freshman photography lessons seriously?”

Andy rolls his eyes and takes the camera from you with a chuckle, “actually i’m still capable of using a camera y/l/n, god you’re making me feel old. go model for me,” you just laugh and run across to the other side of the pond.

soft skin from your legs revealed from the way your sundress lifts bends against your chest. head resting upon your knees while your arms wrap around them, the sunflower in your gasps and the lotus behind your ear. at this moment as the seconds turn into minutes Andy should be taking pictures, his eyes are looking through the lens as his index finger rests on the button.

with as much as single press he captures the greenhouse nymph but what good would a single picture do to capture every gift and grace you bestowed in the offering of your charm, beauty and heart?

it makes Andy's heart race, your eyes dashing from the godly statues that surround you to the camera. sweet music plays in deep cherry wood cellos and willow carved violins and even with the buzzing dragonfly it seems it found its favorite flower at the tip of your nose.

you certainly are the creation and waking of spring flowers and lovesick tales that took his heart then and its still yours now.

that single snapshot was all he could think about you two drove down south to the coast. searching back the drunk nights before where you and him ran into a little covelete whilst drinking goblet after goblet in the forest of olive and grape vine trees. it was a long ride but nothing suited the wait better than the man on the radio singing with his strung trichordo.

the hands that grip Andy's shoulder slide down to wrap your arms around him tightly when the minutes pass and the forest of green olives and sangiovese grapes. parking the scooter near the shrubbery of some innocent bush you and him look for the wine stash the both of you left in the abandoned cavern of an ancient olive tree. Andy grinning as he grabbed the expansive bottle and before you know it you both head to the hidden beach.

Andy didn't plan to actually go swimming, just settle the gingham blanket upon the finely grain sand and open the picnic you both prepared. and he also didn't prepare himself for the rosy blush to dawn his face when your almond nails grip the hem of your sundress to lift it up and over your head. revealing your matching bathing suit underneath its quick that you throw him a wink and race to the nearby grassy cliff.

"see you soon Barber!" you yell and as Andy gets up from the blanket to understand what you mean by that its too late. the summer air is filled with your laughter and sky rippling cheer as you jump off the cliff and dive into the cloud blue water. the splash nonexistent from your perfect swoop.

if only he had the polaroid on him to capture the way your smile gleamed brighter than the sun reflecting off the sparkling water the the way your eyes cutely scrunched like sand dollars under the warmth of golden sand.

the silver green of the olive trees emphasize the richness of your skin. the rich skin he couldn't keep his sapphires off as you laugh your choir laugh that would make Apollo cease his chariot to listen to the siren of Olympus once more. dancing in the turquoise waves of the coast, they crash against your soft mounds, curves, and dips of sun glistening hips and waist.

how could he have been so blind?

rage and anguish slosh around in his mind that pour melancholic rain onto his heart, you were there for him through thick and thin. a friend he believed but how could he have buried that yearn and longing for you all those years?

it's almost criminal to the highest degree and he'd know his side of the justice system but how could that distract him from you? his head was far too buried in those lawbooks to realize, too oblivious to his emotions when you'd date and hang around other people that weren't him. looking far into the looking glass hoping that his work would pay off in the future, meeting another woman and putting a ring on her finger.

now here he is, a divorced man but a still very much happy man. lonely at times with his only child in the custody of his ex wife but still very happy with the comfort and support of you. it was you who helped him from the tears at night and it was you who he wasn't scared to open up to. even the past few months he didn't realize it but now as you call his name to get in the water he doesn't hesitate to pull his shirt over his head and take his shoes and socks off.

joining you in the water in a mater of a few heartbeats, it was as if you were a sea spirit calling for him and even if you weren't he's happily obliging when the small waves collide against his skin. both your laughs rippling the ocean in this small ocean paradise, swimming in the richness of the present never would have guessing that throughout all these years you be here.

the salt water on your skin has dried as you and Andy walk side by side, your shoes rubbing against the gravel of the cobblestone paths as both you peer at the vendors and food stands arranging from rainbow scaled fish, fresh sesame seed breads, farm produced milks and cheeses, and vibrate fruits and vegetables. hands twined together in a firm hold, unfathomable excitement practically radiating off of you while you chat and giggle with Andy.

the topic of the conversation changing every few minutes when you find a stand that grabs your attention. curious eyes and wandering hands look over organic produce and homemade goods the people had to offer. the golden clutch of your purse being opened multiple times and Andy's mouth being stuffed with jam, cheese and fruit samples on the account of you. as you did you shopping he did as well, the ingredients for a sweet treat he had planned for you later on tonight are in a brown paper bag amongst your purchases.

of course he had to carry them all, not in obligation but because he didn’t want you to worry about shopping too much when you’re in the midst of enjoying your vacation. by all means he certainly wasn’t complaining, if anything he liked having you giddy and bursting with energy. practically dragging him from stand to stand and carrying your bags filled with stuff that you’d bring back home and try.

the village square where the marketplace takes place is tinted in an ambrosial hue, the sun now a glowing slice of grapefruit against the peachy pink carnation sky. lavender clouds that seem so close to grasp tower above you both yet they don't prevent the suns glow from capturing the beautiful soft planes of your face.

luscious and softer than the bouquet of sunflower carnations he surprised you with as you looked at the variety of sunhat options. one that you just purchased rests floppily against your temple but still doing its job at keeping you shaded from the suns glare. wrapped in a silky green bow, Andy smiles at how huge it is but it just makes you look divine and adorable in your sundress.

holding his hand tighter before tracing them up his forearm to softly grasp his bicep, it you who's leaning against him and pulling him close to you. the feeling of your body alongside his is warmer then any sunshine that seeps into his skin and lovelier than any of the flowers the market had to offer.

it’s hard to give you one excellent gift to give back all those years of commitment and loyalty and friendship but the way your lips spread in that enchanting smile it’s enough to make Andy know -despite the both of you not saying it- that you feel the same way to.

the bouquet in both your holds lifting up every once in a while for Andy to smell and for you to admire as you walk away from the noisy market. a little behind the village were the spring green of the countryside clashes within the stone brick city is a valley of flower arbors and hedge mazes. it was the last pitstop Andy the bags in both your hands settle down against the safety shadow of a maple trees shade and with a little laugh and an excited squeal he run to the flower arbors.

green rows of soft shrubbery dotted and laced in colorful blossoms stand in multiple rows upon rows look over of petunias and carnations. small apple and lemon trees in potted beds line up within the flowery hedges and no matter where you look it’s only the divination of spring and the gifts it bestows the Earth with. wooden picnic basket that was once used from your beach picnic is now empty but it’s quickly filling with the sweet smelling beauties of the flowers and fruits and you pluck.

Andy not fair behind you captures your wondering body in the still frame pictures of your polaroid camera. the pictures emerging quickly afterwards, he’s quick to fab them off and place them in your small picture album. turning your head over your shoulder your caught with Andy having the perfect opportunity to snap a picture that would be a bedtime story to tell with a child of his and yours.

it’s perfect and breathtaking, no matter the feeling of his heart thumping in its lingering hesitance you were the star that’s still continues to shine despite being out in broad daylight. it pulled at his heart strings because he knew what this feeling was, this feeling that he been avoiding to come to terms with all day but why was he so terrified?

the fear of rejection wouldn’t burst his heart but it would remind him that he was alone. a man like him wasn’t born to walk this Earth, wake to the sun and sleep with moon alone. the very presence of you besides him made him feel all the things besides lonely and bare to the universes cruelness at times. but maybe you felt the same way about him.

he only had one way to find out and he was set on keeping it, whatever sea he had to cross, valley he had to travel to and the plummeting ends to the Earth he will pronounce his love.

snapping another picture of you, you smile in it and with that he smiles to.

"realize what Andy?" you press on but in the rosy candle light his lips pressed against yours seems to be the only answer he can bring himself to conclude.

it's takes the breath out of your lungs and makes your heart blush and burn deeper and hotter than the tiny flames that decorate the cake. the roughness of his bottom lip that have been occasionally bitten the past minutes of dancing around your feelings. the nerve of you both to push aside your feelings for each other because the fear of breaking each others hearts.

if only your past selves could see you now, shedding your hearts and allowing the key to them to finally open the gates of vulnerability and yearn. the passionate lovesick mess tastes delicious against your mouths and you both could get drunk off it instead of the rose. sweet and inching for more as your lips part to graze against each other, but in order to seal the prophecy of established lovers Andy pulls away.

"that i'm in love with you. that i've always been in love with you. it's been years and i'm sorry for just realizing it now but I need to know if you feel the same way. please tell me now, please," he whispers against your lips.

now its your turn for our heart to skip beats and take in each and everyone of his words. fluttering eyes drowning in his copper blues, you open your mouth to say something but nothing but a soundless nothing comes out. all these years your love for Andy has been buried deep within you and you've tried your best to hide that seed. to plow in new seeds because what use was that seed if it never flourished when he'd feel the same way.

you don't realize until you feel the tear dripping down your cheek, he wipes it with his thumb. pressing a kiss where it once existed and it's now that you realize that it's always come to this. your lives weren't entirely paved in stone but the love that has a faith of its own is something that changes as the pages of a storybook turn.

this virtuous night being the newest chapter and as much as you're scared to follow along your heart has been waiting for this moment for so long. with those teary eyes that bring some to his own you smile and pull his face with yours, pressing your lips with his to mark your answer clear, to make him feel the way you feel.

"i've always felt the same. dear god Barber it took you twenty years and it all worked out didn't it?" you giggle against his mouth, feeling his grin as he kisses you back.

"what did you wish for?" he murmurs and you only smile and wrap your arms around his neck, "this,"

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roberttchase · 3 years

Note

Brettsey prompt - established brettsey relationship and jealous Sylvie.

Have some cute Brettsey with kids! They are from my Must Love Dog series. This is set in the future. I will be writing more with them but for now, have a tiny little sliver.

At four, almost five years old, Adelaide Casey is going to be the death of Matt. Whether it’s from her curious, independent personality, or him being wrapped around her finger, he’s not sure which. It’s early; barely eight am, but the little girl has been restless since Sylvie left for her usual cycle-bar lesson, and she’s been asking for the past twenty minutes straight to go to the park.

Matt’s usually pretty good at tuning things out (he had to be when Otis and Cruz were galavanting around the firehouse), but the relentless determination his daughter seems to have woken up with is finally cutting through the barrier. That, or he just can’t say no to her. Looking at where she’s laying splayed across the couch, playing with two small animal figurines, he smiles. He sends a quick text to Sylvie, then walks over.

“Go get dressed and we can go.” The words make the tiny girl freeze, then she hops up, grinning and all but running up to her room.

They’ve been working on letting Addy dress herself more, and make more decisions, instead of just telling her. It’s definitely an ‘Addy-day’ as she so affectionately calls them, because when she reappears a few minutes later, she’s dressed herself and looks proud. Looking her over, Matt thinks it could definitely be worse. He and Sylvie have been explaining to her about the weather lately, and how to dress accordingly. It’s September, and the little black and white striped leggings with panda faces on the knees, paired with her favorite short sleeve shirt that reads ‘Jedi in Training’, should easily be enough to keep her warm.

“Can you put my hair up like Mama’s please?” Big blue eyes look up at him and Matt is amazed (as always) how much she looks like Sylvie.

“Of course. Do you think you can sit still for me long enough?” He teases, taking the hair brush and hair tie from her little hands, leading them to the living room. She sits on the coffee table while he sits on the couch behind her, brushing her wild mess of long, curly blonde hair.

“Papa, do you think Mama will wanna to get a donut after? She’ll be real hungry from the bike, right?”

Matt snorts as the hair tie hangs loosely between his teeth, pulling her hair up before catching it all with it, pulling it through to make a ponytail.

“She might be. Are you still hungry? We have more oatmeal and banana,” he offers, knowing exactly what game she’s playing at. He can’t help the smile taking over his face.

“No! I’m allll full. Jus’worried ‘bout Mama.”

“It’s very sweet of you to worry. When she finishes and meets us at the park you can ask,” Matt suggests, kissing her head. “You ready to head out, Chief?”

“Yes sir!” She gives him a mock salute and he laughs, following her to put their shoes on.

“Can we take Beau? I’ll walk him!” She freezes in the middle of the hallway, making Matt stumble.

“...we can. But only if he wants to go. Go find him and ask okay?” Another thing they’ve been working on- everyone has feelings, even animals. You have to ask before assuming someone wants to do something.

Moments later, while Matt’s pulling on his Nikes, Addy comes back with Beau trailing her, little nub wagging wildly. Matt nods and grabs Beau’s leash off of the hook near the door to the garage, handing it to her. She clips it on and grabs her sunglasses, another new development lately.

“Let’s head out. We can go to the park a few blocks away, yeah? The one with the tire swing?” When he gets an excited smile and wiggle, Matt lets her out into the front yard and locks up.

The walk doesn’t take long, and Matt, as always, is impressed with how well she walks their little frenchie. They get to the park that’s blissfully empty, though he’s not surprised. It’s early enough most kids are just waking up. He’s sure that Andy, their two year old, is just waking up with his Aunt Stella, Uncle Kelly, and their three year old (his best friend) Jackson. Sleepovers with the two are common, enough so that they know they’ll happen twice a week. Addy prefers Cruz’s twins, even if they’re almost two years older than her. Beau starts sniffing around near Matt, extending his leash to the longest it can be.

“Want me to come with you, or do you want to explore and play alone for a bit?” Options, Matt reminds himself, as his daughter thinks them over.

“Alone, but together later?”

“Of course. Go play.” With a smile, Matt watches Addy run over to the large structure, climbing up the little fake rock wall. They’ve come a long way from three months prior, when she was scared to do it on her own. Now she’s handling it like it’s nothing, and Matt couldn’t be more proud. Around ten minutes later, a mom and her two girls who seem to be around Addy’s age appear, and within seconds all three girls are talking and playing.

“They seem to be getting along,” the mom, a red head says, walking over. “Normally Katie’s pretty shy, but she seems to be warming up to your daughter quickly. I’m Elise.”

Matt’s never been one to just talk to other parents, that’s Sylvie’s specialty. He’s of course capable of making small talk, but his reserved nature makes him weary of it. Giving the woman a smile, he nods.

“Addy’s pretty quick to make friends,” he supplies, not fully sure he even wants to give her name out, but it seems rude not to. The girls look well adjusted enough, and his paranoia is put to rest when he sees their features resemble the woman’s next to him. “Matt, nice to meet you,” he adds. Beau snorts and Matt can’t help but laugh. “And this is Beau.”

They talk about their kids, and Matt’s unsure if he’s imagining it; he’s never been good at picking up signals, but it feels like Elise is flirting with him. He’s suddenly, acutely aware he doesn’t have his wedding ring on, doesn’t have it at all, actually. An accident a few months back involving cribbing being dropped on his hand and swelling had resulted in his ring finger swelling enough they’d had to cut his ring off. He definitely needs to get it replaced.

As the minutes tick by, Matt relaxes a bit. Elise is nice enough, and maybe she really is just being friendly. He can’t imagine her flirting with her kids so near by. Or...maybe not. The redhead is inching closer to him on the bench, and the firefighter tries not to look uncomfortable. Before he can say anything else, he hears Addy yell ‘mama’ at the top of her lungs. Looking up, Matt sees Sylvie walking towards them, breathtakingly beautiful. Though she may have just come from spin class, she’s still the prettiest woman in the world, blue eyes bright and smile wide.

Elise, for her part, looks only slightly thrown for a loop. He watches her smile tighten as Sylvie walks over. There’s something unreadable in her expression that Matt can’t quite place.

“Hey sweetheart,” Matt stands and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Hey love. Hi! I’m Sylvie, Matt’s wife. Nice to meet you.”

Elise’s eyes are calculating, then she huffs. “Elise.”

Watching the interaction, Matt feels like he’s missing something, but with the way Sylvie is suddenly eyeing the woman, he thinks that maybe his first assumption of Elise flirting with him was right. By now, Addy’s next to them, clambering to try and get into Sylvie’s arms, one of her favorite places to be. Sylvie, while still reaching down to hold her, keeps eye contact with the other mom, cocking an eyebrow.

“I think we’d better get going,” Elise informs them, when her twins start making their way over. When Sylvie doesn’t reply, Matt speaks up.

“It was great meeting you!”

“Likewise Matt.”

When the family is walking off, he turns back to his wife, looking at her curiously. “What was that?”

“She was flirting with you, and needed to be put in her place.”

Matt’s not sure what to do with the information that Sylvie is jealous, and not only that, she’s adorable when she’s jealous, like a grumpy cat.

“Mama, can we go get donuts? You must be reaaallll hungry after workin’ out….”

#my fic #prompts #matt casey #sylvie brett #brettsey #mld

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let-me-write-shit · 4 years

Text

Somebody To You: 18

Friendly reminder to please Like and/or Reblog. It helps more than you think! :)

A/N: this whole story is like the definition of a slow burn. Just wait until next chapter!

Word Count: 3,234

Click Here For Previous Chapter & Other Completed Stories

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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:

Harry’s attention was forced away from Zoey as Marco reapproached them, smiling brightly. “See what I mean when I say it’s the most beautiful view of Rome?”

Zoey seemed to snap out of it, too, turning to smile sheepishly at the handsome Italian man, “Yes. I was just saying that this is practically a once in a lifetime opportunity for me, so I’m glad I got to come up here and experience this.”

“Ah, well hopefully it won’t be a one time opportunity,” Marco smirked at her, “You did throw the coin into the fountain.”

Harry tried his best not to roll his eyes and the three walked around the dome for a bit longer, taking each angle of the view in. Within fifteen minutes a few girls started to notice Harry, asking for pictures, which Zoey gladly took, before they wordlessly agreed that they better head out before it got too crazy. Marco led the way, flirting with Zoey behind him while Harry watched on, irritation rising. He couldn’t tell if she was into him or not. She was more reserved than she’d typically be, but there was an awful lot of giggling on her part and he didn’t quite like it.

As soon as they reached the bottom and stepped out of the church, they could see the rest of their group waiting right out front on the steps of the church. Harry sighed a breath of relief as they waved them over and turned to Marco, faking a smile and thanking him sincerely for his time and tour and shaking his hand, to which Marco gladly received.

“It really was a wonderful tour. Thank you so much,” Zoey grinned at him.

Marco stepped closer, looking down at her with a slightly lopsided smile, “It was my pleasure, birthday girl. I hope to see you in Rome again,” he pecked either side of her cheeks and then took her hand, kissing it a little longer than necessary.

Zoey blushed, pulling away and smiling one more time before following Harry down to their friends. He didn’t even have a chance to say anything before everyone rounded on her, asking her loads of questions while they continued their way down the steps.

“How do you keep pulling all these hot guys?” Nancy groaned, “If I don’t hook up with one sexy Italian while I’m here, I’m going to be pissed.”

“Me too!” Andy agreed. “Does Marco have a gay twin brother?”

“No, he has a little brother around my age,” Katie said.

“What is this, the sister duo? Are you two genetically engineered to have the best luck with guys?” Nancy huffed, “You got his number, right?” Zoey shook her head no causing Nancy and Andy to gasp.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Andy halted, “Uht uh, your ass better go back there and get his number,” he began pushing her back in the direction of the church.

“What? No. We’re only here for the week. What the hell do I need his number for?”

“You have an opportunity to get with an actual Italian dreamboat. Don’t be dumb! Go get his number! If not for you, then for Katie! Don’t let her miss out on an overseas summer romance!” Nancy argued.

Harry watched along wordlessly with Aurora, waiting to see what she would do. He saw her eyes darting back towards Marco who now sat on the steps looking down at his phone. She hesitated, turning to look at Harry with a questioning gaze. He wanted to tell her not to. Why did they have to keep trying to hook her up with people? It annoyed him that he was annoyed by this. He shouldn’t have been. He knew this. She’s his best friend. She was only ever supposed to be his best friend. He was never supposed to catch feelings. But as she made up her mind and began walking towards Marco, his heart sank, and he knew he’d soon be in for a world of hurt.

He stayed silent on the walk back to the car, once again avoiding eye contact with anyone passing him on the street. He even stayed silent in the car while everyone danced and sang loudly to the radio, making a pit stop at a local grocery store to grab some ingredients for Zoey’s chocolate chip cookies that Katie requested. Aurora was the only one to notice his silence as the rest of them went inside to grab a few things. He didn’t want to go in in fear that he might be recognized, and Aurora stayed back to keep him company.

“Everything alright?” she asked, concerned.

Harry nodded, “Yeah, fine. Just tired from all that walking.”

Aurora stared at him suspiciously, “You sure that’s all?”

It didn’t feel right talking to her about this. He never really got deep into his feelings with Aurora before. This was something he’d typically talk to Zoey about during one of their deep chats. He’d go to her and whine about how he’s stressed out because he’s starting to have feelings with someone he can’t have feelings for. And he knew what Zoey’s response would be. She’d tell him to stop worrying about consequences and repercussions and follow his heart. She’s always telling him to follow his heart and not his mind. To stop worrying about the ‘what ifs’. But how could he confide in her about this when it was about her?

He couldn’t tell Zoey. It could ruin their friendship. And he couldn’t tell Aurora, because he didn’t know how to talk to anyone else about this and didn’t know how she’d react if she found out. So he nodded and simply said, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Well, why don’t you take a little nap when we get back? The rest of us can handle dinner.”

That didn’t sound like a bad idea.

He sprung awake from his nap by the startling sensation of his bed bouncing him as Zoey, Nancy, and Aurora jumped up and down on the mattress beside him yelling about dinner being ready and to wake up. As terrified as he was a second ago, he couldn’t help but smile at his friends’ laughter and gladly went with them as they pulled him out of bed.

Harry felt his mood uplift while they ate out back again, having great conversation and laughter while enjoying the view. He forgot all about Marco while he and Zoey picked fun at each other and even recorded a group video, making sure to hide Katie’s glass of wine, for the sister’s parents. He felt his phone go off several times in his pocket, but he ignored it, enjoying the moment too much. They had sat there for at least an hour after eating when the sun finally went down and a romantic glow illuminated the terrace and the pool area.

“Anyone else down for cookies and swimming?” Katie asked, earning cheers of agreement.

Everyone else went into their rooms to change into their bathing suits while Zoey headed to the kitchen to bake cookies. She pulled out all of the ingredients, measured them out, and prepped them in separate bowls, preheating the oven when Harry walked out, shirtless, and in his swim shorts. Her heart rate increased at the sight of him. The man really was a beautiful creature.

“Need any help?” He asked, padding over.

Zoey shook her head, avoiding eye contact, “Uhm...you could grab me a spoon from over there if you want,” she said, sifting the flour and baking soda in a medium-size bowl. As she began to crack some salt into the mixture, Harry walked over, a smirk on his face, placed the spoon on the counter, and got behind her, weaving his arms underneath hers and taking the salt out of her grip, cracking it into the bowl.

She laughed, heart beating faster at the closeness of his body on hers, feeling his firm chest on his back and his hot breath by her ear, “What are you doing?”

“Helping you make cookies, what’s it look like? Not my arm baking challenge. Come on, what’s next? You’re my eyes.”

She giggled, wrapping her arms back behind him as best as she could, “We need to get the butter, brown sugar, and regular sugar in another bowl,” she said as he began to feel around for ingredients.

Harry smacked his hands onto the counter, knocking into the prep bowl filled with granulated sugar. He dumped it into a bigger mixing bowl, followed by the brown sugar, and butter, accidentally sticking his finger into the gooey stick, which made him groan, wiping his finger on Zoey’s shirt.

“Ew, you ass!” she shrieked, laughing and pinching his side. He yelped, cackling as she directed him, “We need to mix it.”

He felt around for the electric mixer and plopped it in the bowl, turning it on. This proved to be more difficult to do as he didn’t have that much reach. The vibrations of the mixer combined with their awkward body entanglement made them shake even more, making Harry press his body up against hers even more. Even shirtless, she could still smell his cologne, the sweet and musky scent making her mouth water, craving something both sweet and salty. Sure, they’ve hugged before. And there was that whole ‘cuddling’ thing when he came to LA during her depressive episode, but a majority of their friendship was spent apart. His physical touch was causing her head to spin.

She cleared her throat, legs feeling heavier, trying her best to push back the urge to take a bite out of him, “We need the vanilla and an egg next.”

“This should be fun,” he said, a smile in his voice as he felt around for the egg, trying his best to gently crack it against the side of the bowl. “Shit!” he breathed as egg splattered everywhere, thankfully most of it getting in the bowl.

He blended the ingredients until incorporated and now it was time to slowly add the dry ingredients. He dumped a bit into the mixing bowl, but as soon as he turned on the mixer, flour went flying, dusting her face and hair with the white mixture. She sputtered, shaking her head as he laughed, continuing to mix.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Nancy laughed, dripping wet with a towel wrapped around her, heading to the fridge. When she realized what was happening, she laughed, “You two are idiots,” grabbing a drink and making her way back out.

Finally, Harry dumped the bag full of chocolate chips into their mixture and stirred so dramatically that he shook half of Zoey’s hair out of her bun, making her belly laugh, a noise he loved to hear. The two of them both got to work forming little balls out of the dough and plopping them on the baking tray and into the oven. The batches would only take ten minutes each, so while they cooked, Harry let her leave to go change into the same baby blue one-piece swimsuit she wore to their last beach trip, her bun now in a high ponytail.

He had just finished pulling the cookies out and was now letting them cool when he noticed her walking back into the kitchen with a towel draped on her arm. His eyes discreetly scanned her body as she inspected the cookies, looking for any hint or sign of a hidden tattoo. He saw none, and now all he could think about was what was under that bathing suit.

“Thanks for the help,” she grinned, turning to face him and leaning back against the counter.

His eyes darted away from her ass and dodgily smiled back, muttering, “No problem.”

She thought she noticed him checking her out and her heart fluttered at the thought. Maybe he was. Maybe all those little moments weren’t all in her head. She blushed at the possibility, “Let’s plate a few and take them out to the rest.”

As they stepped out onto the terrace, the sounds of laughter and splashing rang louder. Zoey bent down by the edge of the pool as everyone swam up to take a cookie, practically inhaling it.

“Uhm, excused me, bitch! Where’s the new bikini we just bought you?” Andy shot, swallowing the last bite of his cookie.

Zoey laughed, putting the now empty plate on a lounge chair and cautiously stepping into the cooled pool, “I’m saving it for my birthday tomorrow.”

Andy nodded and turned to Harry, “What are we even doing tomorrow?”

Harry stood by the lounge chairs finishing up his cookie and said, “I rented out a boat to take us over to a little island of the coast for the day. Then I made our reservations for dinner.”

“Ooh, Harry, you better watch it before you make me boujee.”

“It’s her birthday! We have to do it right!” Harry laughed, taking a running start and darting towards the pool, making a cannonball right beside Zoey, covering her in water.

They all screamed and it started the splash war. Things eventually died down. Harry and Andy were chatting at one end of the pool while Nancy, Katie, and Zoey talked nearby and Aurora was lounging on a chair beside them.

“Hey, have you texted Marco yet?” Aurora asked from the lounge, catching everyone’s attention.

Zoey turned to her, hesitantly responding, “Uh...yeah. We texted a few times.”

“I wonder what his brother looks like,” Katie thought aloud, causing the group to laugh.

Andy smirked, “You should invite them to the island with us tomorrow!”

“You’re just saying that because you want to see a half naked Italian man,” Zoey retorted back at her friend.

“So what if I am?”

Katie’s eyes widened like a lost puppy as she clasped her hands together, “Pleeease?” she begged.

Zoey looked back to see Harry looking down at the water, curious about what he was thinking. Did she risk inviting Marco if there was a chance of Harry liking her? What was she thinking, of course, there wasn’t a chance. She finally gave in and pulled herself out of the pool, heading inside to grab her phone. Harry watched as she strutted away, a piece of him angry at everyone for asking her to do that. He knew they meant well and had no clue what was going on in his head right now, but still. The thought of Zoey with someone else right now made him feel physically sick.

After a minute Zoey came back in the pool and they carried on swimming. Katie had gone in for the night and Harry was the last one in the pool while Nancy, Andy, and Zoey all sat in the lounge chairs beside Aurora. He had just come up from the water when a loud shriek rang and a body collided with his, forcing him back under and clinging onto his back like a koala. He stood back up, shaking his hair and wiping the water from his eyes to see Zoey attached to him, giggling and attempting to get him back under the water.

Harry laughed. He was a lot stronger than her. Their bodies were slippery from the water and he managed to slide her from her back to his front, so that they were chest to chest, her legs on either of his hips. Wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and taking a deep breath, he forced both of them under the water. When they resurfaced, she laughed, gripping onto his shoulders while he attempted to clear his eyes from the water, casually walking around the pool while still holding onto Zoey.

They heard their friends laugh from the side and Aurora said, “You guys are cute.”

The phrase stuck to him. What did that mean? Did she know? Was that her way of giving him her approval? Or was she simply saying that their friendship was innocent? Surely she didn’t know he was starting to like Zoey, otherwise, she wouldn’t have mentioned Marco earlier, right? Or maybe she did that on purpose? Girls were so confusing.

“No, I’m cute,” Zoey responded.

And as much as Harry didn’t want to let go of her, he didn’t want his thoughts to be too obvious, so he took her firmly by the side and tossed her back into the water. A little yelp sounded before she went under.

Once again, Harry and Zoey were the last ones up, still swimming around, finally getting to have their first deep chat in a week, talking about family, and Zoey wanting to go home to visit soon.

“I’m sorry,” Zoey laughed, standing up from her floating position on her back, ”you don’t have to stay up with me. I could stay in here for hours. My parents always called me a fish when I was little.”

Harry shook his head, standing up and floating closer to her, “No it’s fine. I’m not tired yet.”

Zoey smiled, leaping on his side, “Thanks for today. It was fun.”

“I bet you knew most of the historical facts already with all the research you did on Rome,” Harry teased, once again sliding her around so that they were chest to chest, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning back slightly so that they could float.

Zoey’s hands were situated behind his neck and she laughed, “Yeah, a good chunk. But it was still nice to see them and not have to wait in line.”

Harry chuckled and spun her around a few times which made her giggle more. He slowed down and got more serious, looking up at her, “So. Marco?”

Her eyes avoided his and she solemnly said, “I guess so. Everyone else seems super into him.”

“And you’re not?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know. What do you think?”

Their eyes met and he was pretty sure if you listened close enough you could hear his heart pounding. He was surprised that she couldn’t feel it as her body pressed against his. He suddenly became so aware of how close they were that his nerves began to rise. She was right here. Her face inches from his. He thought he might have noticed her eyes flickering from his down towards his lips, but he couldn’t be too sure because he was doing exactly that. The invisible pull was tugging on him so powerfully. He could kiss her right now. He could try.

But just before he leaned in, Zoey cleared her throat, pulling away and letting her legs fall from his hips into a standing position. She looked uncomfortable and flustered, scratching the back of her head and looking all around before spotting the pool steps, “Uhm, you know what? I’m actually a little tired now. I think I’m going to head in.”

Instantly he felt stupid for almost kissing her, and annoyed at himself for finding it so difficult to control his feelings for her. He never had a problem avoiding someone or pushing people he might have been interested in away. He couldn’t do that with her. She meant too much to him. As selfish as it was, he needed her in his life. Even if it meant that it would be as friends. Though he became increasingly aware of just how much he wanted something more.

KEEP READING

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Taglist for Somebody To You:

@thurhomish , @stilljosiegrossie , @odetostep , @apples2019 , @stylesmioamore

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shadowsblades · 4 years

Note

"Uncle Andy said if we asked nicely, you'd show us your daggers," Giramar muttered with a sense of awe, his twin looking equally enraptured. Vereesa stood a few paces away from her sons with a small smile, letting the interaction play out, but prepared to step in should either twin become too troublesome.

UNSOLICITED ASKS↳ @bow-women

It is rare that she is approached so boldly by children, a lamentable circumstance attributable to heritage exceptional to the Alliance, apparel, or the very blades displayed so proudly and prominently on her hips to have attracted the twins’ attention. It’s a situation made even more surprising by the lithe figure standing behind the boys —— Vereesa Windrunner, apparently adding her own endorsement to Uncle Andy’s.

Apparently, she is also willing to reserve usual prejudices for her sons’ entertainment.

So too is the blood elf, enmity towards the Ranger General of the Silver Covenant not extended to innocent half-elven progeny who evidently do not yet share her opinion —— or at least not insofar as to overwhelm their curiosity. Appreciation for her daggers lacking ulterior motive spurs a smirk more charmed than haughty —— the rogue cannot blame them for their admiration for so wicked of weapons.

“You have good taste,” she observes, smoothly sliding one dagger from the loop in her belt to present first to the more talkative of the two, now dazzled into wide-eyed, enthralled silence that only further swells her pride.

“Uncle Andy,” she continues as she draws the second, deposited in the eagerly outstretched hands of the brother ( lucky there aren’t three of them ), her snicker at the moniker withheld behind pursed lips twitching in threatened defiance, “has a lot to answer for.”

#raerns #❛ it is wise for a king to know his enemies. ❜ ❪ world of warcraft: legion & bfa ❫#this was so cute thank you!

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tyrusvibes · 6 years

Text

Tyrus on a Bench (short fanfic)

Summary: Their friendship started in the park and it grew. But then, TJ wants to be more than just friends with Cyrus.

Where It All Started

Summer is coming around soon in two weeks. Their school year is about to end with a good note.

In his room, Cyrus is currently busy with his finals upcoming next week. He’s practically been avoiding his friends especially TJ all day in school. He does not want any distractions and he really wanted to ace his finals without any problems.

With his mind focusing on history, he can’t help himself but missing TJ. Drifting away from his studies, he started to have flashbacks about one of his favorite memories with TJ.

“Hey, Underdog!” TJ yelled, trying to run to Cyrus. Cyrus was amazed of how fast he can run despite the fact that he’s on the other side of gym court. He was just there to watch one of his best friends, Buffy practicing her shots. Buffy stopped, turning to see TJ sprinting to Cyrus. She just rolled her eyes, but slightly smiled at the fact that TJ was definitely smitten.

“Hey, Teej! Calm down, you have to catch your breath. Don’t give yourself a heart attack or something.” Cyrus looked at him who’s panting in front of him. He put his right hand on TJ’s shoulder, trying to let him catch his breath for a second. TJ looked at him with a soft smile.

“I’m fine-- don’t worry about me! So, I wanted to tell you something!” TJ started to take a deep breath and tried to get himself together. “So yeah, can we talk? I have something important to tell you.” Cyrus was puzzled but nod at him in response. He told TJ to wait there, then walked over to Buffy still continuing to practice her shots. Buffy saw him walking over to her and dropped the ball on the floor.

“Buffy, I have to go. TJ needs me.” Cyrus awkwardly blurted out. “I know I promised you that I will be here to boost your confidence but hey, I’ll be here for your game tomorrow. I would never miss it for the world.”

“Unless it is for TJ” Buffy bluntly said. Cyrus blushed, shaking his head. But then, Buffy gestured him to go with TJ, just to let Cyrus that it’s fine. Cyrus walked away but turned around to run back to give Buffy a hug. Buffy took his hug in. Meanwhile, TJ looked at them with a happy smile, knowing that their friendship is special.

After a long hug, Cyrus told her goodbye and left with TJ. Now, it’s just him and TJ. They were walking out of the gym and going straight to the park. TJ spotted the available swings, the same swings they always hung out at. When they arrive at the swings spot, they captured their spots per usual.

Cyrus cleared his throat and said, “So what’s so important that you wanted to tell me?”

“Oh, just that… it has been 6 months today. I mean, since the day we first talked right here…” TJ trailing off in his own saying. “I mean, I thought today is the perfect day for me to tell you what my name stands for.” Cyrus was surprised at his response. No one knows what TJ stands for except his family including TJ’s twin, Amber. He felt honored to be the first person besides his family to know what it stands for.

“6 months… wow. I never thought it is already 6 months. Because I thought it would be longer than that. I felt like I’ve known you forever.” Cyrus rambled. “But I finally got to know what it stands for?! That’s such an accomplishment! Wait… isn’t it good thing right?” TJ laughed at his rambling and nodded at him in response. Cyrus felt something warm in his heart. It isn’t actually a bad thing this time. As a matter of fact, it has been like this for a while since 6 months.

“So… since you’re the only person I can talk to like this. I thought it’s just perfect timing to tell you. Here I go. I promise my name doesn’t sound bad. It stands for Theodore James. Theodore James Kippen.” Theodore finally admits. He saw Cyrus taking this new information in. “Well… what do you think, Cyrus?”

With the new information taking in for Cyrus, he showed his excitement. He thought that Theodore James is such a fitting name. In addition, he’s even happier when he finally knew who TJ is and it makes him appreciate TJ--- Theodore even more. Cyrus exclaimed, “Theodore! Oh, what a cool name. Theodore. Theodore. Hey, can I call you Teddy? Since you’ve always called me Underdog. So it’s only fair for me to do the same.” Theo widened his eyes, not expecting his comment.

“Why Teddy?”

“Because you know, when I first met you… you were a tough, hard-shelled and stubborn guy ever I’ve met. The more I know you, you’re turning to be a softie all along. You remind me of the bears. Like as in teddy bears. But, like you know what I mean.”

TJ smiled, approving the new nickname that Cyrus came up with for him.”

His flashback is disrupted just as when his phone ringed out of nowhere. It is a phone call from Teddy. What a coincidence. He debated answering the call or ignoring him. With that, he decided to answer the call because he thought Teddy might have something important to tell him.

He answered the call, putting his phone beside his ear. He greeted Teddy with “Hey Teddy! What’s up? I was just studying.”

“Hey Underdog, I’m just calling you to see if you need a break from studying. I know you’re stressing out with finals and stuff.”

“Well, at least you got me at perfect timing. I definitely need a break.”

“Okay, do you want to meet up at the Spoons with me and everyone else?” Cyrus smiled but realized Teddy couldn’t see him. He can’t help but feel disappointed to know that it won’t be just him and Teddy. But he’s fine with his offer either way. His friends are the kind of people who give him endless support and love.

“Definitely, Teddy. I’ll be right there in 15 minutes!” Cyrus said, hanging up on him after Teddy gave him a laugh which tells him that it’s a yes.

Cyrus got off his bed, tossing his phone on the bed and stretching his body. He went into his closet to look for the appropriate outfit since he’s covered in his dinosaur onesie. When he found the appropriate outfit, he went to get ready in the bathroom.

After getting ready, he put his outfit on. He went downstairs, seeing his parents relaxing on the couch in the living room. His mom saw him, noticing his outfit.

“Hey young man, where are you going? By the way, a nice outfit you got there.”

“Thanks, mom, I’m just gonna get a break from studying. I’m about to hang out with Teddy and others at the Spoons. Is that okay, mom?” He affirmed. Luckily, they did because they know his friends well enough and they even love his friends. Cyrus nodded and gave them one of his famous hugs. With that, he stepped out of his house. It is pretty warm outside, especially the chilly season has ended.

He’s starting to walk to the Spoons. It’s only 15 minutes away from his house. When he’s about to arrive, he can see his friends chatting away from the tinted window. He thought “I’m glad everyone is friends with each other.”

With a happy thought, he walked in the Spoons. The bell chimed. His friends are sitting at the usual spot. Just by the window per usual. They looked up to see Cyrus walking toward them. There’s an available seat next to TJ. Cyrus blushed at the fact that it is reserved for him.

“Hey, Cyrus! About time. Finally out of your house?” Buffy exclaimed, gesturing him over to sit. He moves in next to Teddy. Jonah sits next to Libby. Andi and Amber just sit together. Buffy and Marty are there, as well.

In response to Buffy’s question, Andi said: “Of course, he wouldn’t be out of his house if it wasn’t for his Teddy.” She teased at TJ’s nickname. Everyone knows the real reason behind his new nickname. After two months since Cyrus knows what TJ stands for, TJ finally got around to tell everyone else about it.

TJ gave his twin, Amber a look as if asking her to stop Andi to tease him. Amber ignored his look, playing along with her girlfriend, Andi.

“My twin over there has a magic trick that always gets Cyrus to fall in with anything,” Amber commented, pointing out at the fact that Cyrus is just here just because of him. TJ rolls his eyes, shaking his head. Everyone else is also playing along with Amber’s comments.

While everyone is joking around, Teddy leans into Cyrus to whisper. “I’m sorry about my twin. But I’m glad you’re here.” Cyrus nodded as if he doesn’t mind any of this.

“Besides all of this, are you guys excited for high school?” Jonah disrupted, changing the conversation topic. Libby was being amused with all of this.

“I am excited.” Libby signed, smiling at everyone else. Everyone went on to agree with her comment and starts to mention their plans in high school.

Meanwhile, Cyrus even thought about his plans in high school.

High school… will I ever be ready?

His thoughts are disrupted once again as when Buffy noticed him drifting off in the conversations.

“Earth to Cyrus?” Buffy waved into his face. Now, everyone’s staring at him with a puzzled look. Cyrus was snapped out of his thoughts and tried to have an excuse for not participating in the conversations.

“Oh! Sorry, I was just tired today. I mean, you know how I am when finals are coming around soon.” Cyrus said, trying to make it believable. But of course, in this case, TJ wouldn’t believe him for a second. With that, Teddy tells him to meet him at the park in 10 minutes.

Within 5 minutes later, TJ announced to everyone that he has to go. Cyrus got up with him. Everyone nodded, saying goodbyes to them.

By then, they left from the Spoons to the park. This time, they are walking in silence, which is that Cyrus is thankful for. He isn’t in a mood to have a conversation at this moment.

When they arrived at the park, Cyrus noticed that the swings were taken. He frowned at the sight of swings being taken and almost walked away. Teddy stopped him and gestured to the park bench. They are walking toward the park bench and then taking their seats.

“So, a penny for your thought?” Teddy said, looking at him. He wanted to make sure that Cyrus is doing okay. Cyrus chuckled at his joke.

“Yeah. I don’t know. I was just thinking about how I would never be ready for high school. I haven’t thought about my plans yet. I really want to have a plan!” Cyrus ranted as Teddy listened to him going on.

After the rant, Teddy told him to calm for a second. Cyrus took a deep breath. By then, he’s looking up to Teddy, noticing the clear green eyes. He always has been loved his eyes. It’s just like the whole world looking back at him.

As if the whole world meets the earth.

“Underdog…” Teddy hesitated, “Speaking of plans, I have one.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“So, all I’m just looking forward in high school is to stick with our friends. Especially you. I want to stay with you all the way through high school. That’s my plan.” Teddy stated. This plan definitely makes Cyrus feel better. Now, Cyrus feels the same way.

“Remember the moment I’ve revealed to you about what my name stands for?”

“Yes.”

“It’s almost 10 months now since we’ve first become friends. And I wanted to say that this place is where it all started. With that, I wanted to have another moment with you again. So, I have an important plan. I don’t know if you would just agree with my plan.” Teddy nervously said, moving around on the bench. Once again, he looks at him.

Feeling nervous, Cyrus feels the hint coming but at the same time, he doesn’t want to be disappointed.

“Okay, what is it?” Cyrus said.

“Is it okay if I show you this way?” Teddy said, feeling confident. Cyrus nodded. Teddy leaned in closer to his face and kissed him on the lip. It is definitely the best feeling ever for both of them. This is something that they’ve wanted to do for a long time.

Cyrus breaks out of the kiss and smiled. “I can’t believe we had our first kiss on the bench. In the park, of course.”

“It is just perfect. So, you like me after all this time?” Teddy chuckled.

“Duh, Teddy, I always have.” Cyrus smiled, “So speaking of, what’s the important plan that I have to agree with?”

“Oh, my plan for us is to be boyfriends. Is that okay?”

Cyrus smiled, nodding in response. “Yes, it is okay. We’re boyfriends now.”

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sjfsldjfl this is my first short tyrus fanfic. hope y’all like it? i wrote this last night and now i’m finished it just now. i thought of this idea right after josh’s hint about 3x21.

please give me a feedback or whatever! ahhhh! thanks to those authors out there, i’m inspired to write this.

and i hope this isn’t so bad!!

#tyrus #tyrus fanfic #cyrus goodman #tj kippen

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descentintobandom · 5 years

Text

Domestic Bliss

Title: Domestic Bliss Chapter: One-Shot Pairing: Andy/OC/Remington Rating: T Fic Summary: A typical Saturday morning in the Biersack-Kropp household. Author’s Notes: Just some domestic fluff featuring the twins. I’m literally dying from the fluffiness.

Andy had always been an early riser, but now that he had children that was a daily occurrence. When he was on break, he was in full-on father mode. Which is why he was up at 7 a.m. on a Saturday.

At any moment, Emerson would come running into the bedroom.

Andy got out of bed and threw on some flannel pants, leaving his chest bare. He opened the bedroom door just in time to catch Emerson.

The four year old giggled.

“Good morning, Em”, Andy said.

“Mornin’ Papa! Ashy is still sleeping”.

Ashley certainly took after his godfather/uncle in that respect.

Andy kissed Emerson’s brown hair and carried him down the stairs. “What shall we make for breakfast, little rockstar?” Andy asked him.

Out of the two of them, Emerson was the most outgoing, much like his father.

Ashley was the quieter and reserved of the two, much like his Uncle Emerson. “Chocolate chip pancakes!” he said, “Because they’re daddy’s favorite! When is daddy supposed to be home?”

“In a couple days, Em”. Andy grabbed the ingredients and the two of them went to work making the pancakes.

Upstairs, Jenni was just waking up. She grabbed her phone and saw a good morning text from Remington.

It was sent hours ago, but Remington wasn’t the best with time zones.

Her phone said it was almost 8:00. She could smell food so she knew Andy and Emerson were up. Jenni got up and padded into Emerson and Ashley’s room to find Ashley still passed out in bed. “Time to wake up, my darling boy”, she told him. She picked him up and carried him downstairs.

Andy was standing at the stove with Emerson sitting on the counter next to him, Palaye Royale playing softly in the background. Andy picked up the skillet and expertly flipped the pancakes.

Emerson laughed and clapped his little hands.

“I’ll never understand how you do that”, Jenni said. She set Ashley down next to his twin and kissed Andy.

“Practice, babe. Lots and lots of practice”, he said. Andy picked up his son, nuzzling his sandy brown hair as Jenni stepped in to take over making breakfast.

Even though Emerson and Ashley had two different fathers, they still looked extremely similar. The only difference between them was that Ashley had inherited Andy’s bright blue eyes. His hair was also a shade lighter than Emerson’s. Time would tell if either of them kept their natural hair colors.

“Emmy, why don’t you help me make scrambled eggs?” Jenni asked him, “Ashy, do you want bacon in yours?”

Ashley nodded his head where it was buried in his father’s neck.

Andy rubbed his back as he swayed to “Clockwork”.

“Is Ashy sick?” Emerson asked.

“Of course not darling, he’s just sleepy. He’ll feel better once he has something in his tummy”, Jenni told him.

Andy walked over to the cabinet and pulled out of the box of Oreo’s, handing one to Ashley.

“Andrew Dennis Biersack, you better not be feeding our son cookies before breakfast”, Jenni said, her hands on her hips.

“It was only one. It was to perk him up”, Andy said, placing Ashley on the floor.

“Mhm”, Jenni said skeptically.

Andy smiled devilishly before kissing his son’s forehead.

“Papa, can you turn this song up?” Emerson asked. “Get Higher” was playing.

Andy walked over to the iHome and turned up the music.

“This isn’t your favorite song, is it Emerson?” Jenni asked him.

Emerson nodded.

“’White’ is better”, Ashley said.

Emerson’s mouth dropped open dramatically, reminding both Andy and Jenni of his father. “Nuh uh!” Emerson argued, “Mama, what’s your favorite song?”

“Mrs. Infamous”, she said.

Emerson rolled his eyes and said, “’Cause daddy wrote it for you”.

“What about you, daddy?” Ashley asked.

“I like “Don’t Feel Quite Right””, Andy told them, “Although, I like everything your Papa writes”.

The four of them were in their own little world. So much that they didn’t hear the front door open.

“Hey, you guys made my favorite!” they heard.

“Papa!” “Daddy!”

The twins ran to Remington, wrapping themselves around his legs. “Look at you two! I swear you get bigger every day”, Remington said, “Whose idea was it to make chocolate chip pancakes?”

“Mine daddy!” Emerson said.

Remington picked up his son and peppered kisses all over his face as he laughed. “Oh, how I’ve missed you, my little rockstar”, Remington told him.

“What about me?” Ashley asked him.

Remington set Emerson down and knelt down in front of Ashley. He took his small hands in his and said, “Of course I missed you! I always miss my little Einstein”. Remington placed kisses on the backs of Ashley’s hands, showering him with love and affection just like his own son. It didn’t matter that Ashley was biologically Andy’s son.

To Remington, Ashley was just as much his son. Andy and Remington never treated them differently because of which one of them was the sperm donor essentially. Even if Emerson had been Andy’s son, Remington would have still loved him as his own.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving”, Remington said.

“Come sit down then”, Jenni said.

Andy fixed the twins’ plates as Remington kissed Jenni.

“I missed you, sweetness”, he said.

Jenni’s cheeks burned. Even after all these years, the nickname still made her blush.

“Don’t forget daddy’s Nutella”, Emerson said.

“Okay, you two. Sit down”, Jenni told them.

Remington walked over to Andy, who was spreading Nutella on Remington’s pancakes and wrapped his arms around him, placing a kiss between his shoulder blades.

“Tired, babe?” Andy asked him.

Remington only nodded.

Andy turned around and kissed Remington, who lazily kissed back. “C’mon. Let’s have breakfast then you and I can relax while Jenni takes the kids to the park”, Andy told him.

“That sounds amazing”, Remington said. As much as he loved touring and performing for thousands of people, he also really loved his family. They were unconventional, sure, but they made it work.

Remington wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world right now.

#andy biersack #andy black #andy biersack imagine #andy/oc/remington #andy/jenni/remington #remington leith #remington leith imagines #black veil brides #black veil brides imagine #palaye royale #palaye royale imagines #domestic fluff #emerson kropp jr #ashley biersack

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janbirdie20 · 3 years

Text

Chapter Four: Agreements and Compromises

Altan Hussan was not a wolf to be trifled with. He was old and tired of the ennui brought on by age. He came to the Alpha of all Alphas to die, but his wish was not granted. Altan was a warrior in every sense of the word, but what happens when his cold, isolated heart meets the hurricane that is Sunny Redfeather, a Navajo Skinwalker from Arizona.

~~~~~

First impressions are hard, especially if your a 600 year old wolf with anger management issues.

~~~~~

You have to find that place

That brings out the human in you.

The soul in you. The love in you.

-r.m. drake

“No.” Altan said, eyes staring down his alpha. He would not do this, would not submit on this.

“There is nothing you can do about this Altan. It is done, they are coming here.” Rhys corrected, sinking into his office chair with a rare show of weariness. Atan scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“It is my house, not yours, you cannot ask this of me.” the old wolf ground out, Emily squeaked at his rage filled voice and scooted closer to Andi. Hazel eyes flashed with gold at his mate’s fear, Rhys growled lowly in his throat, to remind this insolite wolf his place.

“I am not asking, I am telling. The Skinwalkers will stay with you while we deal with their problem.” Rhys’ tone left no room for argument, but Altan didn’t care.

“Rhys, I don’t see why the brats have to stay with me. Can’t they shack up with Charles?”

“No, Charles and Andi are going to New York to hunt the wolf, Samuel is escorting them without their knowledge up from the reservation and they are to stay with you. You’re the only one I can trust with two Walkers and not kill them.” Altan growled threateningly and looked away from his alpha’s eyes, the gold had not left completely.

“I don’t want them too.”

“Tough. It is my fault they are in this position in the first place.” Rhys admitted, sniffing the hand his mate had given him. Emily had went to him to calm him. His thumb ghosted over her smooth ring finger, she had yet to say yes to his question. He would have to fix that before she left.

“What do you mean?” Andi asked, brows dipped in concern, her mate Charles, second son of the Merrick, hadn’t told her that.

“I knew Frederick was moon-sick, but I let him go, now he is hurting others.” Rhys relented, growling lowly at his own foolishness. He met with Frederick thirty years ago and saw the growing madness in his eyes, but he did nothing. He thought he still had time. Now Frederick had imprinted on some young girl and terrorized her for a half of a year.

“Why must she stay with me?” Ah there it was. Rhys smirked at the old wolf. He didn’t mind the visitors, only the girl bothered him.

“I am busy with this dumb and pointless fae treaty and cannot entertain guests.” Emily made a sound and brought the attention back to her.

“I can take care of them.” She mumbled, shying away from the attention.

“Emilia, you are not going to be here, remember? You’re going back home for your father’s birthday.” Emily made a soft sound, a curse in German.

“I forgot, dang, I was hoppin’ to meet her. She went to Julliard too.” Atan threw his hands up in exasperation. ”Although, she was in a different department than I.”

“Are we to save every troubled girl to come out of Julliard?” He asked. He softened at Emily’s flinch, sometimes he forgot where she came from, what led her to them. “I am sorry Little Wolf, my anger got the better of me.” Emily smiled and gravitated towards him.

“It seems like it huh? I think you’ll like her.” She kissed his cheek and left the room to pack.

“From what Samuel has texted me, they are quite sarcastic and witty. You’ll get along with them fine.” Rhys said, standing up to follow his mate. He yet to properly say goodbye to her.

“I don’t care if she is the epitome of sass herself, I don’t want her in my house.” Atan repeated, following after his alpha.

“As you have said many times, Altan. Move on, what’s done is done. Now hurry up and get ready; you are to pick Samuel and the twins up from the airport.”

Which is what led Altan Hussan, better known as the Moor, slayer of men, standing in a crowded airport terminal with a cardboard sign in his hand reading ‘unwanted guests.’

He hated big crowds. There were so many smells that they clogged his nose, so much noise that he caught bits of a hundred different conversations without trying, but could miss entirely the sound of someone sneaking up behind him. Someone had bumped by him on the walkway as he left the main doors and he had to work to keep from bumping back, harder. Flying into Stevensville in the middle of the night had at least avoided the largest crowds, but there were still too many people around for his comfort.

He hated cell phones, too. When he'd turned his on after he had reached his destination, a message from his alpha was waiting. All he had was a first name, Rhys hadn't seen fit to give him a description of her. Of them, he corrected himself. He couldn’t fathom why he was so worked up over some dumb girl who flirted with the wrong man and got herself into trouble.

“Pull yourself together Asim.” He mumbled to himself, he rarely, if ever, called himself by his true name, he had no idea what led him to do it now. Altan shot a glare at a woman and a small child who looked at him like he was crazy. He was only partly insane, thank you very much.

He didn’t know how long he’d have to wait, so Altan drew into his thoughts. His dreams, they still bothered him. The talk with Emily this morning left him with more questions than before. What if she was his mate? What if she was his? Altan shook his head to clear away those thoughts of betrayal, Hala was his only mate. He did not need another.

But her eyes. Those eyes of the earth’s unfettered beauty. Soft pools of bronze that smiled to him, that soothed him. He yearned to memorize them, to lock their piercing gaze in his heart and never let go. They were soft as fur, but within a moment they hardened to the shards of rock ships shattered against in a storm.

They were their own sunset.

“Really Altan? Since when am I an ‘unwanted guest’?” Samuel Edevane’s Welsh tinted voice startled Altan back to life. Damn it, he fucking hated airports. They were a cesspool of idiocy.

“All guests are unwanted, even you, Samuel.” Altan droned, face a relaxed deadpan. He put the sign he had crafted during the wait into the trash can nearest him. Altan’s angry gaze drifted to the man standing next to him. He was striking, a long, lean body. His shoulders were broad and strong. He was corded with muscles that flexed as he held two black duffle bags.

His face was long and narrow, with thick lips and high cheekbones. On the top was flawless teak skin and eyes that shone brightly. Altan watched him move, there was something of the warrior in him combined with a gentleness that confused him.

“I take offense to that Altan.” Samuel bantered.

“You were supposed too. Are they it?” He asked, not caring for pleasantries. The native man was hunched but Altan knew it wasn’t from the weight of the bags. He was trying to appear non threatening. As if this little pup could fight him and win.

“Yep. Altan meet Jacy and… now where’d she go?” Samuel questioned, spinning once to try and locate the girl. Damn girl, she should know to stick close.

“Sunny?” The tall man, Jacy, called, not looking particularly worried. Altan didn’t care, he was about to drag the girl out by her hair, manners be damned.

“Great, we now have to play search and rescue for a child.” Altan sighed. “Are they aware you are coming with us Samuel?” The Welshman nodded but Altan could tell his attention was not on him.

“Sunny?” Jacy called again, dropping their bags with a huff. “I swear to the lord above if you ran off I’ll kill you.”

“I didn’t run off, asstown. I was helping an old lady with her bags. She couldn’t get it off the mover thingy. Whatever the hell it’s called. I’m pretty sure, like 89.67 percent sure she had a dead husband in that bag.” She grumbled, her eyes locked on a frail old woman struggling to walk with her cart of luggage.

The woman's voice was rough and deep, nothing like the musical southern lilt of Emily’s, or the smoothness of his Hala’s. He wanted to run his tongue over the throat that housed that voice.

Altan raised his brow at the word asstown and spun on his heels to promptly lose all the breath in his chest.

It was her.

The woman from his dreams, the woman who had been visiting him for nineteen years. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

She appeared in the room with the fall air billowing around her skirt as the sliding door opened. Most did not pay attention to her beauty, but rather her color. Burnt sienna never looked so beautiful on a woman. With short black hair thick like wool tipped in bubble gum pink and her head held high, she waltzed on with an effortless saunter. The clicking of her combats boots added rhythm to the soft music of a busy airport that played onward without pause. Her eyes scanned the room with determination in search of someone when her eyes met Altan’s she smiled. So beautiful it was like the stars themselves decided to rest behind the soft cushion of her lips.

Her emotions were not easily hidden on her innocent face. Her pain was evident in the crease of her lovely brow and the down-curve of her full lips. But her eyes, her eyes showed her soul. They were a deep pool of restless gold, an ocean of dreams.

As he looked into her eyes he knew, all the beauty of the universe could not even hope to compete with this simple thing: passion. Passion turned her eyes into orbs of the brightest fire, and in them he read clearly that she would fight to the very last tear for her life. She would not let the world break her. Sure she could cry, but she would never let them take her true self from her. She clung to it with passion.

Passion that made her beautiful.

She was a warrior in every sense of the word and Altan was struck blind by her.

“Only 89.37 percent Sun? I thought you’d be able to smell better than that.” Samuel said, strolling forward to take her elbow in his. Her legs were still weak. Altan wanted to know why.

Something deep awoke in Altan. Something old and dormant. It whispered to him. A word he had not heard in five hundred and sixty-five years.

Mine.

#book #my story #stories #excerpt from a story i'll never write #funny #romance #romantic couple #love story #Rays of Sunlight #chapter four #chapter update

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laughingpinecone · 6 years

Text

TP request for Every Woman Exchange because an “or” matching signup with 10 characters or groups is bound to be a wordy business!

Doris Truman

Group: Audrey Horne & Laura Palmer

Group: Laura Palmer & Donna Hayward

Group: Laura Palmer & Sarah Palmer

Group: Norma Jennings & Shelly Johnson & Heidi & Miriam Sullivan

Denise “fuck you AO3 canonical” Bryson

Diane Evans

Laura Palmer

Lucy Moran

Margaret "The Log Lady" Lanterman

Tamara "Tammy" Preston

Feel free to mix and match these characters, anything from Tammy interviewing Doris to Denise getting Lucy a drink would be amazing. I also love all their usual cohorts, so Doris and Harry in the woods or Diane and Albert - or heck, Diane and Phil, unanimously voted Philadelphia's Most Glamorous - or Tammy and her FBI dads is all cool as long as the focus remains on the girls. Tammy regrets in TFD that she couldn't meet Margaret? Let Tammy meet Margaret somehow, by golly! You can't really go wrong with gen combinations if you get any cool idea you want to explore. All these prompts are just suggestions. I like magical realism and American Gothic and flat-out surrealism so anything canon-like is great, but also a sitcom take on any group of colleagues, or a smarmy moment played teeth-rottingly straight (which is also canon-like, hah), some found family feels, you name it.

(the order is just me copypasting the tagset)

Doris: I wish her the best and hope that she'll find a way to amicably divorce Frank, or take a deep breath away from each other, heal through other people... there was also a message on Hastings' website from a regular reader that was just signed "Doris" so I headcanon her as an UFO enthusiast, if you want to play with that. I like to think that Albert will drop everything and stay in town after TPTR, and I swear by the fact that both he and Doris need a lot of cathartic shouting, for opposite reasons (she has a lot of pain and frustration to let out, he needs to stop being dead inside). So a good, cathartic shouting match could be a fun fic or art if you like the idea.

Laura & Donna: post-canon meetup post-canon meetup post-canon meetup!! Somehow. Dreams, shifted realities, straight-up 'Carrie' driving up to Vermont to find her Donna again. Shippy or not, I just want closure for them. Or any kind of Laura&Donna fic is great, I've loooved basically everything I've read for them.

Norma&Shelly&Heidi&Miriam: I love the RR microcosm! Sweet and supportive and just so /good/. Good for Norma for snatching the ever-so-rare happy ending and I'm glad Heidi got painted in a much more positive light this time round! And our heroic Miriam! My first thoughts go to either Shelly working through her Red problem with the help of the other girls, or Miriam triumphantly getting the pie Shelly and Heidi wanted to get her. But anything RR-centric is great. idk, a collection of drabbles with different customers (established characters or otherwise) coming in? Or something else still!

Denise: she was FBI all along so she can be friends with all the rest of the FBI cast! What a wonderful retcon. So tell me everything about Denise and Diane, Denise and Albert, Denise and Tammy... Denise and Cooper in the hopefully-not-so-distant future... she's so warm and charming, she just lights up any scene. Denise in Twin Peaks during s2 or Denise back in Twin Peaks years later for whatever reason is also great!

Diane: putting herself back together? I'd love a post-finale journey of self-discovery (or an episode thereof, for shorter fic or single pieces of fanart), slipping out of the Linda identity (whatever that's about), accepting/reclaiming her tulpa, and even that split self we saw outside the motel... or! Fun times with Janey-E! Why can't they stand each other? Is it because they're both kind of complicated people to be around? Is it because Janey was the only one who figured something was wrong when Diane got tulpa'd? Diane and Albert's frendship warms my heart, and it's fun to imagine Tammy trying to connect with her even after she got barked at. Or Void Club with Annie and Audrey, where they're not gonna talk about Dale Cooper, in fact they're not gonna talk about Dale Cooper at all...

Laura: finding her angels again please? Or in any situation - in the Lodge or in whatever sort of surreal road trip she and Cooper ended up in - that's closer to the Laura in Between Two Worlds, the woman who's walked through fire and made it to the other side, Laura with her eyes sparkling and that impossible Mona Lisa smile. Any moment where she gets to shine and tower over everything and everyone else. As an aside: I did not request Laura&Audrey because I figured that anyone offering it would ship it, and I very much do not, and I didn't want to inconvenience anyone who hoped to match on them because of the ship. BUT I came to the realization that I am in fact pretty invested in s gen reading of what Audrey saw in Laura, how she resented her but also idolized her and tried to follow in her footsteps until she got burned at One-Eyed Jack's. So what if they met after canon, how would a grown-up Audrey confront her old idea of Laura, would she see the real person behind that image, and would it help her come to terms with some of her own crap?

Lucy: Kimmy Robertson said she would like to be the color blue in Lynch's palette, if the prompt works for you. I love Lucy taking her time to understand and organize the world around her, I love her with Andy, with Wally, with Maggie Brown and the rest of the new sheriff's station cast, and I love it when people who don't usually appreciate her (both sheriffs and Albert come to mind) have to come to terms with the fact that she's amazing. I also like that Hawk is a first-class gossip, apparently, and so is Lucy, so if THAT prompts works for you...

Margaret: Margaret and the woods, Margaret and Hawk, Margaret and Laura always... Margaret and Shelly, Margaret and Audrey!, Margaret trying to impress Norma as per that one Log Lady intro... young Margaret and the Truman boys, or an older Margaret still with the Trumans, and sometimes maybe there's only one Truman and sometimes they are very distinct, oh well c'est la vie.

Tammy: I like to take the difference between her book self and show self as a straight-up character trait, that she's way more reserved in person than she is in writing. Any fic based on this duality would be great for me. Other than that, throw her at literally any character and I'll be thrilled to read it. I love how she looks up to Albert and just kind of follows him around like a baby duckling, I love the possibilities of Denise mentoring her, I love how she's the next generation of Blue Rose and hopefully the first one that won't fuck up majestically and I wonder if Gordon realizes it as he lets her learn the ropes at her own pace, I love possible "passing of the torch" scenarios with Cooper where he's so proud of her, or Laura sharing her secrets. Or let her be lace buddies with Shelly or look into a supernatural case with Cynthia or find Audrey or whatever! Yay Tammy!

Ship-wise, my big ships are Laura/Donna, Laura/Ronette and the Brennans. I also ship Shelly and Bobby and hope they can sort it out. And I'm curious to explore Tammy/Cynthia, /Audrey, /Candie, and/or getting a supernatural smooch from Laura. And while it's got zilch to do with this exchange, for the sake of full disclosure, all sides of Dale/Albert/Harry.

DNWs: unrequested ships, especially my NOTPs (Coop with Audrey, Annie - she’s a bit more complicated than NOTP but for the sake of a clear signup let’s just veto it..., Janey-E, Diane and Laura. Shelly/Gordon, Tammy/the rest of her coworkers twice her age), character bashing, s3 negativity

#letter

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fenixofthedark · 6 years

Text

Storytime: Ishtar is Confused By More Questions Than Answers.

One - I randomly tossed a few hatchlings up on the AH and some sold (I have two others left), one of which was a Tarn baby. Selling anything was unexpected, but I'm gonna use it as a crystallising 'event' in my personal lore.

Second - I know everyone who follows my clan's shenanigans wants answers to WTF is happening. You will get answers. In time.

But first: Ishtar is confused. Horribly, horribly confused. What just happened?

"Ishtar? Ishtar!"

"Hm?"

Hadn't she been meditating?

"You zoned out again," Ophiuchus stated, plague eyes staring into her own. They were close enough the green tinge of infection could be seen. Or was it a Mother given contagion of the likes typically reserved for the Living Exalted? "Do you require a respite?"

"No, I-" She stopped. Stared at him.

This wasn't...

Eyes, both visible and under a glamour, blinked as the Pathwalker struggled to comprehend the scene before her. She was using normal vision, wasn't she? Then why did this feel as if she'd walked right into a Path? No. It was normal, yet it was nearly impossible to be certain as vision after vision of chaos, ruination, danger, and death sprawled and danced across her Sight.

It was a world that could be - that was. A world that was twisted and fragmented, like something she'd Seen on a Pathwalk, not Lived.

No. She'd Lived it, hadn't she? She'd seen her lifemate tumbled through the skies to land in a heap of bloodied bones, seen Tarn's twisted, shadow-and-plague wracked form as he struggled against the competing magics within his Core-

Rah standing over his father while Sekhmet rained destruction, and Anubis-

It was a jumbled mess, and she struggled to piece the 'memories' together-

A fight between ‘gods(?)’ as sides were chosen, a death or two and The Voice's fury bubbling and boiling over as reality shifted and what should not be true now was. An Emperor unleashed again yet it was a puppet. A mage courting burnout time and time again with a twisting smile and devil-may-care laugh. A child of the progenitors slipping out or was it left to its fate because they said it was a runt? Or was this the hand of one of the other siblings? She didn’t know. It had a name, didn’t it? Runesong? Nijara? But, did it even matter when she wasn't sure the child even existed yet? Hellfyre's clutch hadn't yet hatched? She wasn't healed?

No... that wasn't right... was it?

Amon's grip of the Swarm loosening? What...

The Voice's ire and fury had made the small volcano, the one the clan claimed had Always Been there but it was new.

As was the rune covered mirror which weaved its way through the Court like it'd always belonged. Fenyx laughed as they kept a single egg mottled egg on themselves, and Asha resented as only a Princess could yet there was a fear there and Andy seemed to believe the newcomer was wrong somehow. The Cadred was Normal, yet-

Had Yara always possessed that mop of misty, swampy hair with a mind of its own? Who was the pink and red skydancer with too many eyes?

Unicron was oddly calm despite the added assortment of rainbow. Did she always have that limp?

Phylos seemed... sedate, calm. Mature.

Wait. When had she and hers returned? When had Ru joined the clan? When had Krivnaar - returned? Been sent out?

Ishtar swallowed and tore her gaze away from the Bone Seer, staring at the other seers who stared back impassively. This was - some sort of meeting she didn't remember arriving at, and yet her twin was there, and Ishtar knew without a doubt she still held the Dias-. "You are correct. Perhaps I should rest."

"Very well," the contagion riddled imperial said; the signs and symptoms of the contagion harmless to the clan, yet it left him off-putting to look at it. More so now he was riddled with battle scars, one of them deep over, and no doubt into, the keelbone; doubtlessly Ophiuchus would forever more face difficulty in flying again.

"Thank you. Shall we continue-"

"In the morning," he said, face unreadable.

The Pathwalker nodded. A night to Deep Dive wasn't much, but-

She caught Inanna's gaze, and the imperial cocked her head to the side impassively. Her twin was with her, yet Ishtar could tell something was off with the other Oracle. Something was amiss, and she wasn't sure if that was for good or ill.

They'd sort this out together.

#fr #flight rising #clan plot #clan lore #Ishtar is very confused #WTF happened

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bdotson46-blog · 6 years

Photo

On this Memorial Day weekend, along with the picnics and the pause from work, let us remember the reason for this holiday -- to honor the service men and women who died defending us. Xiamara Mena stood among an army of soldiers who did not make it home. She threaded her way through their tombstones, beginning the long, slow business of learning how to live alone. Her son, Andy Anderson, was buried in Arlington Cemetery. He died fighting in Iraq. “The first year was pretty hard.” Mena sighed, wiping away a tear. There was something more that she did not tell me: The Army Reserve was sending Andy’s twin brothers, Rafael and Randall, to Afghanistan. Xiamara Mena stood apart from the other mothers who had come to visit their sons’ graves that day. Beth Belle kissed a nearby headstone and then hugged it. Her embrace said silently what could not be put into words. Belle was planning her boy’s coming-home party from Afghanistan when Lance Corporal Nicholas Kirven was killed on Mother’s Day. He so loved the marines that Beth and her husband allowed him to enlist at seventeen. “He was always a peacemaker,” Belle pointed out—the kind of kid who, when he touched someone’s life, they shined. In Afghanistan the infantry rifleman passed out Beanie Babies and rebuilt houses before he died chasing insurgents into a cave. That was three and a half years earlier. “The first thing any new mother here at Arlington Cemetery asks is, ‘Does it get better?’” Beth paused, lost in thought. “I have to tell them no. Time does not heal all wounds. It just gives you a few more seconds before the loss begins again each day.” Paula Davis rose from her son’s grave and joined Mena and Belle. She, too, understood the public smiles and private tears of a mother who has lost a child. A mortar shell took her only son, Army Private First Class Justin Davis. She left a new picture of him at his grave every week, even though technically that’s not allowed. “I want people to realize that this is a human being. It’s not just a number. It’s not just a name.” She paused and looked down. She took a deep breath, then said fervently, “I want them to see the person who lies here.” Davis’s heroes were God, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and Bruce Lee. He loved kung fu movies, and even shot one of his own—on the front lines in Afghanistan. He said he wanted to be an actor. A quiet scene played out near these three women. The men of Marine Lance Corporal Eric Herzberg’s fire team were gathered with his mother at his grave. They were sent back to Iraq the day before his memorial service. On the second anniversary of his death, the buddies gathered at home to finally say good-bye. “When we are weary and in need of strength,” Eric’s mom recited a prayer. “We remember them,” the marines responded. Another mother, Gina Barnhurst, choked back a sob and read passionately, “They are a part of us.” Her son’s story ended at age twenty. Two years later, Barnhurst still sat by his grave and wrote letters to her son. They felt like arrows to her heart. “How do we keep having birthdays and Thanksgivings and Christmases without being able to hug you?” Her voice caught. The paper in her hand shook. “How do we keep living our lives without you?” Barnhurst hung twenty-two stars in a tree near Eric’s headstone to mark what would have been his twenty-second birthday. “You have this emptiness you cannot fill,” she said, “and I just felt like I had to be where he is.” “What did you say to your son the last time you talked?” I asked. “Oh, that’s a hard one.” She swallowed with difficulty. “He said, ‘Mom, don’t worry about me.’ He gave me this big smile that he always had and he hugged me, then went off to help load a truck. They always asked for volunteers, and he was always the first one to volunteer. You want to have a longer conversation, but you don’t get a chance to do that.” “What would you have said?” “I want to say, one more time, how proud of him I am. And how much I love him. And miss him. And what a deep hole there is in our lives.” Eric Barnhurst died on October 21, 2006, while on patrol in Iraq. A sniper shot him through the neck. He was buried, like the others, in Section 60. Death there is too fresh for the simple stones that mark the resting place. People leave all sorts of mementoes. One mother, who does not live near the cemetery, asked Beth to take twenty-six cents to her son’s grave. “Since he was a little boy, she never ended a letter without ‘a quarter for a call, a penny for your thoughts and all your momma’s love,’” Beth sighed. The mothers don’t talk about coming to the graves. They simply visit their sons, watching over them, just as they did on playgrounds long ago. Pride, anger, and grief flash across Gina Barnhurst’s face. “You feel like you should’ve just jumped across the ocean and been there to hold them that last minute.” Paula Davis reached out and squeezed her friend’s hand. The mothers had formed a special bond, offering one another—and any new mothers who joined them—something other friends and family could not. “I can take off my mask that I wear when I go out to face the world,” Paula Davis said. “When I come amongst my friends here, I can be myself. They know exactly the feelings I am having.” “We don’t have to be the actors that we so often have to be,” Belle agreed. “We look into each other’s eyes and we instantly hug. You cut through to that deep connection because you feel each other’s pain,” added Gina Barnhurst. The first grave in Arlington National Cemetery was dug to remind a Civil War general about war’s human toll. The graveyard was once Robert E. Lee’s plantation. Eighteen hundred men rest forever in his former rose garden. During the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, there were as many as thirty burials a day. Nearly one in ten who died fighting rest in Arlington cemetery, the highest percentage from any war. Beth Belle’s son Nicholas was the first to be buried in a new row of graves. Three years later, five more rows stretched beyond his headstone. Belle dropped to her knees one last time before leaving him, hugging his headstone, pressing her cheek against his name. #americanstory#memories#memorialweekend

#americanstory #memories #memorialweekend

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