#which i love with all my heart it had a beautiful rich sound and fits perfectly in my tiny hands
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it's Friday so instead of thinking about anything else I'm drooling over a shiny (expensive....) hard case for my cello. Unfortch no local shops carry it, and if I order it online there'd be so much hassle to return it in because the post office will shoot on sight if I attempt to ship a cello case with them. Ah the struggle!
#see my particular problem is that i have a ⅞ cello#which i love with all my heart it had a beautiful rich sound and fits perfectly in my tiny hands#i have it in a well-padded full sized soft case for now but i want a hard case for stability#the luthier i bought it from had a full sized hard case he even let me borrow to try out but i didn't like the unstable feel of it#wah sob#and the shiny expensive case im looking at now is adjustable for ⅞ and has great reviews but id like to try it out before i cash out#my plan is to call around the shops that carry other products from the same brand to see if they'd consider ordering one in...#liz talks#cellotime!
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On David Tennant and Aging
So, I’ve seen a lot of posts in response to Tumblr users’ habit of affectionately calling their favorite middle aged dudes “old men”, David Tennant in particular, saying things like “clearly you’ve never met an actual old person”, “omg you talk about these guys like they’re 80”, “please be normal about people aging”, etc. And on one hand, all of these statements are objectively right and true! But as someone who’s always been really fascinated by and found a lot of beauty in getting older (which I’ve explored in some of my writing on A03 because nobody else is going to do it for me), I’d like to provide a bit more nuance on how I think this label applies to David in particular.
David, obviously, in literal terms, is not “old”, at least not to me- I don’t personally consider people old until they get past 60. 52 is middle aged, simple as that. And yet, when I see David stuck with the “old man” label, it still somehow feels weirdly right, for a number of reasons.
It annoys me so much when people say David “hasn’t aged a day since Doctor Who”, because, well…
He clearly has. A lot. He’s got forehead creases, deep crows’ feet and eyebags, and I think that post-Fourteen we’re gonna see him rocking the grey temples a LOT more. He also has the voice of an older man now, his upper range is still there but the default is much more deep and rich, with a gravelly, rumbling quality that just goes straight through you. I personally think Broadchurch was when David finally started to embrace looking his age- Alec Hardy just wouldn’t have been served by Ten’s fresh-faced boyishness.
Obviously, these are the kinds of changes you’d expect any 52-year-old man to have, but something about David just makes it all seem a bit more… intense? The expressiveness of his face combined with his almost gaunt frame makes his wrinkles very prominent, and when he works his voice to its emotional extremes, his lower register can sound positively ancient, to devastating effect.
David, I think, is someone with an old soul- I don’t think he could be as good as he is at playing ancient characters like Crowley and The Doctor if he weren’t. He has lived so many lives, given so much of himself to so many characters, often incredibly tragic ones, and I think it wears on him. David also has five kids. FIVE. Do you know how exhausting it is to be one of the hardest working actors alive and be a present, loving father to even ONE child? But David somehow does it anyway! Nowadays I see him and my heart breaks because he looks so tired, so weary and fragile. But he’s all the more beautiful for it to me because I know that that is because he is kind. He’s a deeply empathetic person who feels and lives to the absolute fullest, and that story is written so clearly on his face, along with every other story he has ever been a part of.
There’s other things about David that make the label endearingly fitting- his utter hopelessness when it comes to technology, for instance. And he’s just got that warm, wise, grandpa energy too sometimes- look at that above Fourteen picture and tell me I’m wrong!
I once showed my friend who’d only seen David in Doctor Who and Harry Potter a picture of David from Around The World in 80 Days. It was a particularly emotional scene, and his face had just the most beautiful expression of compassion and sadness, every wrinkle on full display. And she said, in a less than complimentary fashion, “he looks so old!” Which, of course, offended me quite a bit at first. But to me, referring to David as old almost feels like a badge of honor, something he’s earned by living fully and selflessly, working hard and being wise and compassionate beyond his years. I think David himself is secretly more than a little insecure about the fact that he’s getting older. There’s sadness behind every jovially self-depreciating remark he’s made about his age in the past year, particularly in comparing himself to Ncuti Gatwa. I know how much David struggles with his impostor syndrome and how people perceive him, and I can clearly see in his eyes the fear of being discarded, the anxiety he feels about if he’ll still be as loved as he was back in 2007 now that he’s closer in age to King Lear than he is to Romeo. So I hope David knows it’s a privilege to watch him grow older, to watch his soul and talents deepen with the crinkles around his eyes. If I, in my silly goofy tumblr girl-ness, call David Tennant an old man, it’s because it’s a label that suits him beautifully- even if it isn’t TECHNICALLY an accurate one yet.
#David tennant#doctor who#the tenth doctor#the fourteenth doctor#good omens#crowley#shakespeare#around the world in 80 days#phileas fogg#pro aging#growing old
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courage, dear heart
i wrote a thing!
AO3 fic link: atomic blonde
fandom: Narnia/LOTR crossover | ship: Susan Pevensie/Éowyn, background Haladriel
rated: mature | tagged: crossover, canon compliant, pining, Gender Politics with Clive Staples and John Ronald Reuel, post The Horse and His Boy, bittersweet
Summary: It’s not the first time a power beyond understanding ripped Susan away from her home to fight in another world’s war. And in this strange country, she will find her courage.
Set as Frodo becomes the ringbearer, set after Susan returns from Tashbaan and the Battle of Anvard is won.
a/n: Written for @thenarniaficexchange 2023 for @syrena-of-the-lake. Is this fic just a string of references from all seven narnia books, at least five lotr books, various narnia and lotr films, a lotr tv show, Churchill’s “we shall fight on the beaches”, and Shakespeare? Maybe so.
Two canons in a blender, my favorite scene in this is when the Dark Lord Sauron comes to Queen Susan in her dreams to take her apart and finds something he didn’t expect. And my heart aches to answer an unanswered question in the fic about magicked memory loss and the Problem of Susan, perhaps in a sequel.
Excerpt:
Her hands are dirty from drawing the circle, fingers burned from the blue fire.
The bright magic ring she wears is cold, very cold; cold as the bottom of the sea. And it sings of power, not of the flesh, but over flesh. The power of the Unseen World.
In her mouth is the language spoken before the dawn of time. Before the Deep Magic was written. Before the Sun and the Moon were made. “Call her up.”
*
It’s quite sudden – the searing sound in her ears and then a great pop – and she’s no longer riding alongside her sister in the wilds of Galma but in a strange, alien land.
She stills her horse, and is surprised to find it not the dumb Galman beast who was a pleasure to ride along the sands of the ocean, but a great stallion fit for a warrior of renown. The shabby islander saddle is now richly ornate, covered in symbols she does not recognize. The windswept sea of grass smells sweet; rich earth beneath and a warm yellow sun in the endless blue sky above. Massive forests and towering mountains in the distance, and far off to the south, clouds of smoke. No recognizable landmark of any kind.
This curious little girl from Finchley has experienced travel between worlds before, but she does not quite remember the first time. Something about a mother who loved her and a great stairwell and the numbing horror of nonstop destruction; all faded in memory and deemed unimportant, lost. She is now queen of a great country; taller than her brother, the High King, and a remarkable beauty sought by highborns across the known world. Her raven-colored hair and red lips, haunting the dreams of many. Her gracious kindness, a balm to her loving subjects once subjugated by winter and a witch.
More importantly, she still remains curious.
For she is Susan, by the gift of Aslan, by election, by prescription, and by conquest, Queen over Narnia under the High King Peter, the Lady of Cair Paravel and Protector of the River Rush, Blessed by the Radiant Southern Sun, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion, Daughter of Eve, the Gentle.
And this strange country, unknown to her, is Middle Earth.
*
Her magical horn came with her, tied to her belt. There is no hesitation as she raises it to her lips. Father Christmas had said “–wherever you are–,” so she blows it, calling for help in this alien place.
The full velvety sound rings out across the grassy plains, ringing up through the nearby mountains and reaching forests unknown and reaching foreign ears in their towers of stone. (Perhaps even reaching the power that brought her here.)
A rider appears in the distance. Susan narrows her eyes, considering if this is friend or foe. She only has a dagger and her wits, which may be enough.
It is a warrior with a shield on his arm. He rides a white steed and golden horse hair flows out of his helmet. He shines bright like the famed white stag and Susan feels an intense urge to chase this rider at once, to put an arrow in his heart and drag him to the ground.
To demand wishes? Perhaps. The urge is unknowable.
But no: this is no white stag, nor a magical creature of any sort.
And Susan does not yet know that this is no man.
Susan called for help, and help has arrived in the form of Éowyn, the Lady of Rohan.
*
It is a cautious meeting and neither dismount.
The rider’s gaze is appraising, obviously noting Susan’s foreign dress. There’s the uncommon length of her raven hair, adorned with the lush island flowers of Galma. The dagger and white horn at her side, and the ease in which Susan is managing a stallion. The queenly posture; a regal confidence undoubted. (This is learned behavior. Pevensies can trace their lineage to poor fishermen in East Sussex and poorer soldiers from Normandy.)
Susan’s assessment is this: the young rider is a dangerous warrior, lithe and well-knit in frame, made all the more queer with his open courtesy to a stranger.
“What country, friend, is this?” Susan asks.
The rider tilts his head. “This is Rohan, my lady.” His voice ringing out clear.
And what shall I do in Rohan? Susan thinks, miserably.
“Are you in need some assistance, my lady?” the rider continues, a look of concern in his gray eyes. A pause. “I am Dernhelm, at your service.”
*
Dernhelm listens to her tale and “strange sorcery” is his response. He thinks a moment before: “Have you experience with witches?”
Susan gives a smile, but it is a bitter one. She knows more than some about witches.
After Susan explains, Dernhelm nods. “The way I see it is this: you have appeared here through magic, for what reason, I cannot say. And you have appeared in Rohan, for what reason, I cannot say. You are no servant of the Dark Lord, there is something true and honorable about you.” He stops there for a moment before a continuing in a most peculiar tone. “The wizards have no interest in queens; what is a woman to the affairs of air and earth? So, the Lady of the Golden Wood, she must be behind this and her reasons could have promise in them.”
“The Lady?” Susan echoes quietly. There are hags that called Her “the White Lady.”
“She is a great sorceress. An elf-witch of terrible power who dwells in Dwimordene.” Dernhelm looks grave. “It is said that all who look upon her shall fall under her spell and are never seen again.”
Susan shivers, thinking of the horror of Jadis’ castle. Of Tumnus’ look of terror, frozen in stone.
Dernhelm continues. “My brother believes she is a myth, and–” he pauses as if pained by a memory unspoken. “My king’s advisor says webs of deceit were ever woven in Dwimordene.” He raises his chin, and his eyes are shining bright. “But I believe differently. There is an old, old tale of this elf-witch helping my annointed forebear, the first of our kings. I choose to believe that tale. I choose to believe that in our time of need, the Lady came to our aid. High honor to protect the king and his men, and dread magic too. And perhaps, perhaps if she is behind this, she can be reasoned with and you can return home. Should you have the courage, you seek her out.”
“Then I shall go to find this Lady of the Golden Wood,” Susan says. “If you will take me there, sir. For I do not know the way.”
The man sucks in air and holds it a moment before: “For this journey, you have my sword, your grace.”
#narnia#susan pevensie#eowyn#sauron#galadriel#susan x eowyn#haladriel#lizzen fic#narnia fic exchange#the horse and his boy#ww2 wildly waving its hands in the background saying notice me notice me
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Sending waves to wave to earth as we grow alongside each other across the ocean 🌊
(rambings from a while back, edited to be coherent, please share this time of love with me)
I am someone who often questions things about myself, especially the things I am into and enjoy. I like to figure about exaclty what it is that captivates me. Wave to earth have been on my mind a lot recently with their US tour kicking off. Subsequently I started to wonder a little, what is it about this band that I am so captivated by and feel so connected to? To put it simply, music is art, and I honestly live day to day examening and thinking about art. What draws me into art is typically one of two things: admiration to anothers dedication/view of life or its relatability and how I see myself in that art, how it fits with my daily life and thoughts. Wave to earth's music is one of those gems that fulfils both categories. What captured me was their specific nestling into a blur of genres, and their appreciation and dedication to art, as well as their lyrics about life and love.
The first live performance of theirs that I watched was purple lake. It was just daniel and donkgyu in a little room, I vividly remember the purple glow of the room, and the multi coloured lights dancing across the walls. Dongkyu had a pair of sunglasses hanging from his shirt. Watching that performance, when the camera pans to dongkyu on the drums, it felt like the whole universe had singled into this one person, fulfilling their passion and translating feelings into sound. I had never been so captivated in this way before.
I started getting more into the lyrics too. I had been a fan of Daniel for a little while before I heard wave to earth so was familiar with his voice and lyrical style from the little snippets of what I understood before. I vividly remember one day, sat at the kitchen table listening to seasons, just recently after its release. I sat there with the lyrics in front of me, and I felt my heart warm a little. A delicate hum of pain and nostalgia which stuck with, and resonated with me so strongly. "I'd give you all my life, my seasons" Listening to songs like light, wave, ride and surf made me fall more in love with life. The link of love and life with the sea and nature fit hand in hand so beautifully. It gives a sense of connection, a grounding feeling, whilst also somehow making me feel like i'm floating in the clouds, my mind completely at peace, even in the middle of a hectic day.
Then as the autumn and winter come, I grativiate to songs such as bonfire and bird. A couple years ago, on my journeys back home from college, I would listen to these songs as the sun set. I shut the door on a difficult day listening to music that made life feel beautiful again. "Bird, how does it feel to fly. Hey bird, do you look down or forward?" These lyrics stuck in my mind, as I felt stuck in the sickening routine my life had back then. Do I look down to my heart, do I look to myself, to this moment, or do I look into the future? How is everyone around me living, how do you see? I felt confused, life was a blur of one day to the next. I would listen so intently, every lyric, every chord. One listen for the lyrics, one for Daniel's voice, one for the drums, one for the bass, one for the harmonies, one for it all together. It was moments of peace in during a messy time. From this, I found one of my big happinesses in life: bass guitar. I was drawn into John Cha's bass lines. I always pondered on which was a favourite. For autumn, I like bonfire, the bass gives a rich yet fluttering feeling, like fireflies dancing in the night. There is a certain part in gold which I adore it's like velvet, so smooth, so deep but also powerful. Then in daisy, in this one break- where often the guitar gets centre stage, there is just this epic breakdown, giving that depth, that almost tangible grip on the song, all the desire and the love just bursts out, and I think its incredible. I came to realise how beatiful bass guitar is. I love the melodic charm of John's playing, the variations during live performances too (I remember learning the term 'bass fills' from his youtube, which I know I probably use incorrectly haha, but just that little extra something special, I love it). I'm not too educated on music, I really only write from the heart, but I feel like John's playing, it really feels like another voice, another vocal, another expression of the lyrics. I never understood music in this way before, so deeply, so interconnected, so beautifully.
From this, music became such a bigger part of my life. I started listening to more instrumental songs, and I gained a whole new outlook on music and instruments. Side B of flaws and all... it really is my everything, that lofi jazz sound they have.. it is everything to me, and sparked my love for a new kind of music. I listen to side A when its sunny and bright out, as well as when my gloomy days need some sunshine. "I'm broken, so take me to the evening glow, and lay me down on the sun, the tender sun" This song, their music, is like a warm ray of sunshine.
So I think about this a lot, as time passes and things change. I feel I have changed and grown, and I look and see their success as a band and see how they have changed and grown and I feel immense happiness. I adore how wave to earth craft their music, their performances, their albums covers. It is always a big creative inspiration in my life. So I just wanted to talk about it, I'm a little bit lost for words, but these days I find myself tearing up thinking about these things so I just wanted to try and express how my heart has been feeling :')
#wave to earth#seasons 100 mil streams?!#i love john cha#kim daniel#shin dongkyu#korean indie#live love music#웨이브투어스
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Hiii Microwave 💋
Could I please have a matchup with the TFP mechs? It doesn't matter which fraction! Honestly!
I'm in my early 20s, and while I may not fit the plus-sized category, I have a curvaceous figure in all the right places. Hailing from Honduras, my friends and I predominantly converse in Spanish. As an African Latina, I proudly boast a rich, dark complexion. I've chosen to dye my hair a beautiful shade of brown, which cascades down to my waist. However, if I were to pinpoint my favorite attribute, it would undoubtedly be my voice. It possesses a distinct quality that sets it apart. Past partners have described it as soothing due to its deep and nurturing tone for a cis female. But don't be fooled by my motherly nature; when provoked, I can unleash my fury and raise my voice in Spanish, regardless of the person I'm addressing. I'll continue shouting until my voice gives out, which strangely enough, my boyfriend finds alluring. Although, another thing about me is that I'm an amazing listener. And I'm VERY clingy. To be exact, I will absolutely overthink if you leave me on read for like 1 minute. And when you finally come home, I ignore you for the rest of the night. Because who tf do you think you are ignoring me like that. And last but not least, I like to spend most of my time collecting toy figures and giving them away to younger children that don't have a lot of money in their families. I tend to give stuff away due to my generous personality. If there is a child at a store who wants to buy a toy or something and their mom says that they don't have enough money, I'll gladly step up and buy the toy for them. And I would do the same for my cybertronian significant other. Even if they really don't need it, if I catch them looking at something on the Internet for quite a while, I'll get the hint and I'll buy it for them. Doesn't matter what it is. It could even be a buttplug for all I know idfc���
Anyways, thank you for your time ❤️
Hello! I’m going to match you with TFP Bumblebee!
(small nsfw warning)
Immediately notices your voice when you meet him. Kind of low key jealous. Just a little bit.
Don’t loose your voice shouting though! Bapy is always worried that you’re gonna strain your voice too hard and it’ll go away. He doesn’t know how humans work so Bee is worried for you.
Contradicting that last headcanon, he gets heart-optics when you yell at someone in Spanish, even if it’s him. He loves domineering/demanding/loud partners and will not be very afraid to show it. If you’re anything like that he’ll fall faceplates first into love.
It’s good that you’re a listener because he’s not very good at listening. Even if you can’t understand his beeping sounds, he’ll (if you let him) lay his helm on your lap and ramble about what slag the ‘cons tried to pull the other day or how low energon supplies are. He’s always less stressed after he talks to you.
You’ll never have to worry about being left on read with Bumblebee because if you so much as send him ‘hi,’ he’ll start a full conversation with you. He would love to talk in person instead but texting is a close second for him.
He would love to see your toy collection. They’re very different from the ones he had (when he was a sparkling) on cybertron, so just holding the toys is cool for him.
If you let him, if it’s only 100% okay with you, he’ll pick out some to bring to the base for Raph.
Let him brush/play with your hair! He’ll be so happy. From a different perspective, it looks like a schoolgirl brushing a dolls hair, he’ll kick his legs in the air too. You get your hair brushed and swarmed by kisses.
Bumblebee gets all smiley when you step up to buy a toy for a kid. Kind of a “that’s my partner!” thing, children probably see you as a hero and so does he.
When you offer to buy him something, he is grateful, but he doesn’t want to waste your money. You can buy it for him, only if you insist.
If the item is of a more sexual nature (a collar or vibrator for him, most likely) he’ll be really embarrassed that you caught him looking for things like that. “If you want to pay for it you can but only if you want to” (Bee’s doing the little 👉👈👉👈 thing as he talks to you).
#micro matchups#tfp#transformers prime#tfp x reader#bumblebee#tfp bumblebee#bumblebee x reader#tfp bumblebee x reader#valveplug#bam same day delivery baby
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The Freddy Problem
Part of @monthly-challenge 2024 | Confession
Rating: PG
Summary: So you ever been writing a scene and been like: "Wait this fits the theme!" (Lol). This would be part of a longer story I want to call 'Heartsong Day Mix Up' which involves a love potion, an old beau, and just a whole lot of mixed up romantic stuff. The scene in question is after Julian has met Fredrick, Sparrow's captain ex-beau and starts to do his overthinking as they get ready for bed that evening...
“You got your overthinking face on.”
Julian blinked as he blushed. “What?”
Sparrow moved to stand in front of him, her eyes looking up at him as if she could already read his mind (which in all honesty she probably could). “You have that look on your face that you are over thinking something, and I think you would feel much better if you told me.”
Julian hesitated before putting on a neutral face. “I don’t know what you are talking about my dear, I’m fine.”
“Okay,” Sparrow sighed, touching his arm with a gentle touch, “you don’t have to tell me, but you know I’m here if you need someone to talk to.” She turned her back to him, beginning to undo her braid, letting her long dark wavy hair fall around her shoulders.
Julian watched silently as this beautiful woman went about getting ready for bed. His ungloved clenched and unclenched as his heart screamed at him to say something. Finally, he found the power to speak. “He’s very handsome.”
Sparrow turned and looked at him again, smiling knowingly. “You are talking about Freddy, aren’t you?”
He didn’t have to confirm he could tell she already knew. “And he clearly has some money,” Julian went on, imagining the man in his mind which really wasn’t helping. “Plus, he is a captain of a ship.”
“Indeed,” Sparrow mused, “Freddy is and does have all those things. Apparently, he has been doing very well for himself since our parting.” She tilted her head slightly. “Are you worried I am going to run away with Freddy?”
Even though he felt pain in his heart at the idea, Julian put on his clever grin. “Well, he is a catch and honestly, I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to. I wouldn’t even try to stop you because honestly who can compete with Fredrick the handsome rich sea captain who could give you a much better life then I could.” The words stung. He hadn’t been so down on himself in a while, and it was clear that he had forgotten how much his worst enemy really was his own mind. He was brought back to reality by the feeling of Sparrow’s hand on his face. He instinctively leaned into the touch feeling her warmth.
“Do you really think I would do that to you?” she asked sounding a little hurt, which also stung because he never wanted to hurt her.
“Well maybe not so much like that,” Julian admitted, his voice starting to waver a bit, “but honestly, I worry by being with me that you are missing out on someone who is better for you. Someone who deserves you and could give you all the things you could ever need.”
“And you think you don’t?”
Julian opened his mouth and then closed it again, unable to form the words as his heart told him one thing but his mind told him another.
“Julian,” Sparrow said taking his hands into hers and leading him to the bed, “we are going to sit here and I’m going to explain something. Is that okay with you?”
He didn’t object nor did he fight back as she sat down pulling him down with her. They continued to hold hands as she spoke, her small warm hands holding on to his larger colder ones.
“Alright now I want to make some things very clear,” Sparrow said, her eyes looking into his and keeping him from looking away. “Yes, I do think that Freddy is handsome. I thought so when I first fell for him. For the record I do find you handsome as well. I assume what you really want to know is if I still have feelings for Freddy and the answer that I can honestly say is yes- “
Julain felt a twinge in his chest, but Sparrow was quick to bring him back with a squeeze of the hand.
“Let me finish,” she warned, not allowing him to go delving into the hole he was ready to dig. “Freddy and I were in a relationship for a long time. I had very strong feelings for him, and those feelings don’t just disappear. They do get less passionate and more like a fond memory, something I look back on and treasure. I look at Freddy now and I don’t feel the same pull I did when I was younger. I certainly don’t want to run away with him, especially since that would mean leaving the wonderful life I have here with you. I don’t want a sea captain. I want a wonderfully kind doctor who makes me laugh with his theatrics, who sings with such passion that it’s hard not fall in love, and who makes me happy to wake up each and every day at his side.” She reached up and cupped his pale cheek, smiling as she spoke the words that still made his heart shiver in delight no matter how many times he heard them. “I love you, Julian.”
He sighed contentedly as he closed his eyes nuzzling to the touch. He kissed her palm, thanking whatever deity had brought her to him. He still didn’t fully believe he deserved her, but he was so thankful that she remained by his side.
“You know there is a big difference between you and Freddy.”
He opened his eyes in curiosity, finding her now looking down on her lap. Her hand fell away from his face as her other handheld his tightly. It was one of the few times he had ever seen his fiery phoenix being so hesitant. He squeezed her hand back as if to say that it was okay, quietly reassuring.
“Both you and Freddy had a choice on going off on a grand adventure,” she said after a moment, “the difference is that you came back. Freddy chose the adventure but you…you chose to come back to the real world…and to me.” A sad smile graced her lips as she spoke. “I don’t think I ever thanked you for that. I know it can’t have been easy, but I will always be very thankful you didn’t sail away like Freddy did.”
Julian was instantly brought back to the moment in the Hangman’s realm, standing there on that beach, considering what his next step would be. He wondered if Freddy ever had been standing there considering everything he could possibly gain and/or loose, over the love of this beautiful woman. It wasn’t like either of them could go back and change it even if they wanted to, but honestly, looking at Sparrow now, Julian knew he had made the right choice. “My darling, you don’t need to thank me,” he said, taking her hand and kissing it. “You are everything to me. My darling Sparrow, my star, my warmth on a cold winter’s night, and the person I would always willingly come back to no matter the obstacle. We’ve already proven death can’t keep us apart so I feel stupid even thinking that a handsome sea captain could.”
Sparrow laughed, making Julain feel warm inside. “Yes well, I will take the obstacle of a handsome sea captain over dying,” she said leaning up to kiss him, “because honestly one is much easier to deal with.”
#the arcana game#the arcana#julian devorak#the arcana julian#the arcana apprentice#the arcana mc#julian x apprentice#julian x mc#februfluff2024
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@flashofyellowlights said,
Her excuse of being out for a sudden call into work seemed to work well enough-- even with his small fit there nothing questioned, nothing suspicious. As unfortunate as it was for her to have to upset him with this disheartening (albeit false) news, it worked in her favor a bit. Her return to the apartment was not only a (hopefully) pleasant surprise, but she brought gifts! "I was worried that my late shopping would leave me with little options, but I think I managed just fine..." With a small chuckle, presented to Sigma with bashful eagerness is a handful of shopping bags.
"Ta-da! Happy Valentine's Day." Several of the bags, while small in size, contained assorted treats such as chocolates and carved fruits-- while one bag in particular was heavy with trinkets such as sizeable geodes, a generic teddy bear and a beautifully designed sun catcher. "I hope it makes up for my little lie this morning."
It’s difficult to suppress the sensation of abandonment whenever Angela leaves for work-- although he feels he’s gotten better about it. That is, when he expects it; as understanding and patient as he tries to be, it’s difficult not to want to fly off of the proverbial handle whenever something calls her attention away from him. SIGMA feels guilty after she leaves, having allowed his frustration to get the better of him and shed tears over the whole thing.
Initially, her return catches him off-guard-- taken aback by the rapidity of which she returns to the apartment. He is, however, confused, by the variety of bags she totes inside and deposits onto the coffee table before him. On one hand, he’s still a little sensitive-- especially when Angela confirms it to have been a lie this entire time... On the other, however.... who doesn’t like gifts...? SIGMA leafs through a couple of the bags with the same tentativeness as a cat, the vinyl bags crinkling softly as his large hand sifts through. Strange-- had there always been this many holidays? Or had he simply never taken time to notice, in his former life? It’s nice to have a second chance, to experience things like this for the first time again.
.... Especially with Angela-- regardless of whatever SIEBREN says.
“-- Tch! Well, I suppose I can overlook it...“ He tries to sound mad about it, he really does not appreciate the idea of being lied to-- even if it was under the guise of being a ‘surprise’... Ah, but look how pleased she is with herself... It’d be cruel of him to spoil her mood exclusively because his feelings are a little stung-- he isn’t SIEBREN, after all. He should be grateful that Angela had even considered him at all... “-- Just this once! Only because you are SO sweet!” He adds hastily.
A small heart-shaped piece of chocolate is plucked from one of the bags, the foil peeled away via gravity in favor of placing the treat onto his tongue. Ah... so rich! He tries to make a mental note of not gorging himself on sweets too quickly, lest he spoil his appetite for lunch with all of the sugar. “... This is nice! Thank you!“ SIGMA chimes affirmatively as he savors the way the candy melts in his mouth with hardly a need to chew. The adorable little bear finds itself cradled to his stomach as if it were a real animal, the plush, white fur contrasting against his faded black jumpsuit sharply as a large arm sits lazily coiled around it. Really, despite it just being a plastic comfort toy, he loves being able to hold it as tightly as he wanted without fear of harming a real, living thing.
What’s remarkable, is just how excited one man can get over receiving yet another suncatcher when he already owned so many hanging around the apartment as-is.
“-- Oh, OH! This one is BEAUTIFUL! I LOVE IT!“ He cringes a little at his own volume, giving Angela an apologetic smile as the suncatcher is pulled from the bag entirely so that he can inspect it up against the light. Its centerpiece is just a relatively cheap, resin crystal heart-- but it gleams and shimmers with similar properties to glass all the same. “Hm... I think I will put up this one in the bedroom! The space by the balcony is getting a tad crowded... Hehe...! I feel as though if I placed anymore there, we may start signaling ships off of the coast during the day with how bright your living room has become!“
The items are discarded briefly, however, in favor of lifting from his spot on the sofa to lurch towards her, aloft in the air, so that he may hug her. His deceptively massive body collides with hers as if he weighed little more than a pillow as strong arms eagerly ensnare the doctor, shoving his face up against Angela’s as he bumps his nose against hers affectionately-- something typically reserved only for SIEBREN, himself.
“... You make me feel so special! Thank you, Miss Angela!“
#interactions + ғʟɪʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪɴғɪɴɪᴛʏ ; ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴇᴏᴍᴇᴛʀɪᴄ ᴘʀᴏɢᴇɴʏ +#recall + ʙʟᴜʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇs ᴏғ ᴡʜᴀᴛ's ʀᴇᴀʟ ; ʀᴇ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ +#flashofyellowlights#HES SO EMO!!
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Hi! I'm sorry but what does CPL mean? that's okay, i'll answer on my computer too and the app is just glitchy, it's not worth the risk.
that's true, leander could definitely be a big plot twist like he may had already figured out how to cure the MC but keep it a secret so she won't leave the city anytime soon. i've seen their tumblr blog but i cannot do that because it would remind me of the long awaited release date which is forever away LMAO. are there just characters page for the love interests or is there one for sen/elyon too?
i suppose since they are the non-humans character, it does seem likely that is the case. maybe, vere broke into the senobium and learnt stuffs that he shouldn't had ? or maybe he own them some debt or something ? that's true but all of these vital info would probably be reveal in the halfway point of each route.
if the moon was a person, it would be mhin like look at their character design! that's interesting though because i'm sure they and ais are opposites. vere is definitely eye candy but the studio had poured their hearts into their designs because the artists have added distinctive touches to their faces.
but vere's and leander (marks and scars) are the only obvious one, with the rest, you do need to look closely like mhin's beauty mark, ais's eyebrow with the shaven streak across the centre and the golden teardrops underneath kuras's eyes.
that's sound fun! good luck with that. i really like mhin because their character design solely pulled me and their character/personality because i saw myself in them which is probably a bad thing LMAO. i was leaning towards ais too but when i noticed his eyebrow, i got reminded of my brother because he naturally have that with his one so it hasn't been the same since then ;-; but i like kuras a lot!
there was a fem!li for another otome game called ozmafia but i think it was platonic romance? i think it was more of a friendship route since it came out in 2013. that's true, i cannot recall other female characters in otome game and if they are, they're normally a shit stirrer or the mc's rival.
i hope the studio see the fan comments about sen so they won't change her design because it would be such a waste! ais would be terrifying as a yandere though esp since he have those soul eaters (is that what they call) at his beck and call. but i feel like their approaches would be very different from each other like ais would be upfront and controlling but leander would be patronising and gaslighting.
like with leander, the mc would need to be smart to realise what's going on otherwise it'll be too late or they're just simply naive where they will never realise and i dk which fate is more worst.
speaking of yanderes, do you read/write yan! contents? i read them a little bit but nothing hardcore and i am writing some yan fanfics (bnha and tokyo revengers series) but i'm posting them on ao3.
kuras is very polite and private, he does fit his profession but i felt like he was someone who used to wear his heart on his sleeve but shit happened. the other origins would reveal more of him considering his dialogue towards but it'll only be trinkets/hints so ppl will play the game when it come out.
there is a possibility because his basic summary sentence that he's looking for the one thing that money cannot buy so he seem to be the only rich character. but sometimes, i do wonder if sen will be blind (?) considering her eyes and the scar/stitches on her face, it does look like she was in a horrific accident.
i'm going to add it towards the end but my shipping cost will be $20-$40 so i might just abandon the idea. i'm sure there will be a chance to buy more merch when the game come out but it's probably be more expensive than the kickstarter version.
yh, i saw that goal! do you think we might get partial voice acting for them too? but the animated intro, that is the studio's biggest dream, it's the one that they want to unlock the most.
oh, i know what that is but never heard the official japanese term for it, thanks for explaining. do you ever feel embarrass with your? because i've noticed that most of them have inappropriate designs so i never went ahead and brought them. from your body pillow case, i'm assuming you're a gamer (?)
well, i think that's a bit hasty too because if studio fail to develop the game, kickstarter won't be able to refund their pledge but i highly doubt that will happen but that's always a risk regarding kickstarters. (i feel like this is something mhin would probably say too LMAO)
i think the studio added more slots for that but are already sold out or on the last one.
hiya <3! cpl is a shortened way to say: couple! i write with a ton of shortened words n phrases, i'll keep that in mind from nyeow on! also hard agree on the app being glitchy, i've seen a ton of ppl saying even their tags aren't working and i'm like tumblr can we get it together just once!!!!
maybe! i think the way that leander is strong enough to resist the curse is telling in itself! god he's so mysteriouss, i wanna know more, sobbing. also, i think kuras may also know as well since he IS a whole angel + doctor. i didn't see any chara pages for sen/elyon yet! but i think we'll probably get those :').
i think so! either that or he willingly went to the senobium and ended up getting captured! ORRR he could've been betrayed? I know kuras used to work with the senobium and vere HATES him. EEEE MAYBE THATS IT? i'm not sure why kuras would sellout vere though.. hm. UGH NONNIE WE HAVE TO WAIT SO LONG WHILE WE THEORIZE..
YOU'RE SO RIGHT ABOUT MHIN BEING THE MOON UGH. i wanna write a drabble on that line now hehe. they're so beautiful, so pretty, so handsome and everything in between and beyond. i wanna make mhin my computer bg cause i'm soo in love with their design. and IKR LOL. ais seems to be a lot more carefree and mhin is a lot more uptight. i agree w vere too! i love his outfit a lot also, like it's total inspo for me irl ngl! honestly, i think the reason why mhin's is so subtle is cause if you look at their design compared to the others they are the brightest palette, in the sense that they're almost completely white besides their cloak!
AYYY no don't worry about that! honestly, i liked leander because he reminded me of me! super helpful and not asking for anything in return (except this is touchstarved so what do u really want leander.. :eyes:) ALSO LOL THE SIBLING TURN OFF IS SO REAL HAHA. i'm into kpop right? so no matter how handsome josh from seventeen is i CANNOT be attracted cus he has the same name LOOL.
ahhh platonic ... i like platonic love, i really do but please gimme my wife!! i actually have a couple of fem charas in my drafts, so i won't be surprised if i start something for sen when she's released and we see more of her! also i agree, i hate the 'oh theres another woman.. shes a rival.' i dont want a rival i want a best friend or gf, the heck.
AH THE SOULLESS! yes yes, he could literally use princess to sniff u out and bring u back. thats kinda sexy. i love that. absolutely agree on leander being gaslighty and ais being controlling! eeee. i think leander would be a lil more easy to read tho, especially if he's being antsy about something. i think it's cause during the demo he kinda just lets his thoughts slip out, at least from what i remember! i think being naive and unknowing is worse, cus leander has always been leander to you, sweet and kind, if not a little clingy so why is he suddenly acting like this? type of deal.
i do write yan! i'm not the best at it though, like i think my yan!kakucho n yan!baji fics are both just awright on the yan aspect, i could've gone further especially with baji's but he's so nice in my head that i couldn't lool. i have a suuuper old yan!nightowl ficlet in my drafts that i wanted to convert to a tokrev chara, i was thinking kazutora buut we'll see. also really? i need to start using ao3 more! i have my baji fic queued but i need to put my kakucho one up too :>. if u wanna share them with me anytime i'd love to read!!!
agreed with kuras, it does mention that he's failed a ton in the past, so he's probably much more guarded now even though he's still a sweetheart! it did say sen was brought back from the dead and is seeking revenge and her own death so maybe! as for elyon, eee i usually don't like rich guys kjdsdsksdf unless u reo mikage LOL. but we'll see~
ahhh that shipping is insane omfg.. >< maybe in the future they could find a way to lower shipping prices eep.. but i know thats entirely dependent on the post office, not them. also YES I SAW THE PARTIAL VOICE ACTING KADSNFSDKFN, i already have voice claims for them in my head but ofc it's all japanese va LOL. i don't know many english vas... but i was telling my friend that mhin as paku romi's role in aot(hange) is sooo spot on in my head. just paku romi in general i assign with mhin hehe. we're actually soo close to that goal already for the animated intro!! im SO EXCITED to see the next stretch goals after we hit it!!
nahh i don't feel embarrassed haha. i've become a lot more indulgent on myself and if it doesn't hurt anyone, there's no harm in having it! i don't necessarily sleep with him because i don't want my dog to accidentally pee on it (shes a senior dog who has a lot of accidents now) but he does rest on my bed! and yes i am! i play a looot of games and as of now, one of my dream careers would be to work on a game to write lore or a character in the future! maybe make my own game? who knows! a lot of them do have inappropriate designs LOL, but there are some that are relatively sfw. i know the obey me! dakimuras just came out but i read they're super expensive.. like 100+.
LOL yeah i think mhin would say that too! they're soo serious. c'mon mhin gimme a smile, -pokes-. AND YEAH THATS kinda insane to me how fast those tiers sell!! like dang!!!
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A BEAUTIFUL SOMEWHERE II CHAPTER THREE
Series Masterlist x OBX Masterlist x Full Masterlist x Series Summary
Chapter Three — Vienna
Chapter Summary: Stevie and JJ help out her mother with a sweet favour and talk about the past ... and the future ... and the present.
“Holy shit”
JJ’s voice echoes through the entrance hall of Richard’s fancy Figure 8 home. Her mother’s home. It still feels weird and Stevie wonders if it will ever stop feeling weird. This is so different from everything she’s ever known. The house she grew up in would probably fit inside one of the 6 guest bathrooms. And while it is not resentment she feels, there is a certain disconnect gnawing at her. This is her mother’s new reality, her new life. What if there is no space left for something that isn’t perfect and polished? For someone that isn’t?
“Told you, full kook.”
“Nah, this is more than just full kook. This is ‘I hired a kook to clean my pool’ kinda rich.”
“Yeaaah. But mom is happy so — “
“Yeah, she seems like it.”
“How do you know that?”
“Uh, we live in the same place? I see her all the time. We talk. I’m her favorite, remember?”
Stevie does remember. Sometimes she wishes she didn’t remember all that much. That some memories would vanish and become part of the universe of forgotten things, like passwords to accounts you made at 14 or that genius idea for a new book you never bothered to write down because for sure you’ll remember later on and then you don’t.
Her mother has always held a soft spot for JJ. Maybe she can see the same magic in his eyes and the same vulnerability in his heart. Or maybe she is just so good at being a loving mother that it feels like a waste of love not to extend the sentiment to the boy who was never loved in the way he deserved.
“Oh, I remember. Every time we came home drunk after a party she gave me a disappointed look and you got a glass of water and an Advil.”
“Well, it was always you who talked me into going to the parties in the first place so…”
JJ can’t even finish the sentence without losing himself in a fit of laughter. It’s infectious. Radiant. As the harmony of their laughter sounds through the halls of this plastic palace, it feels like for a moment she is 16 again and life is easy and light. Laughing with JJ is a soothing kiss on the top of the head. It’s home.
“Stevie?”
Her mother’s voice cuts through the haze of nostalgic joy and seconds later a smiling Leslie Collins rounds the corner. Her mother really does look happy. She’s wearing a flowy silk summer dress that must’ve been expensive. This, Stevie thinks, is the kind of person her mother always deserved to be. She has always been selfless and kind, soft and gentle but life never returned the favor. Not until now. All the shit she had to go through, all the fighting and the trying to stay afloat has finally paid off. Now she gets to live in a big house and wear nice expensive dresses and dance through life with a smile on her face.
“Thank god you’re here. Oh and JJ you too! Even better. Two opinions I can count on, perfect.”
Her mother embraces her then moves to JJ and pulls him into a hug. Back when they were kids JJ had a hard time accepting physical touches. When you always expect a slap to the face it must be hard to open up to a gentle stroke of the cheek. He has learned to trust them though, trust her and mom and his friends. And now, the man before her returns the hug with enthusiasm.
“Mom, what are you talking about? Opinions on what exactly?”
“The cake!”
Seeing her mother’s expression, Stevie wonders for a second if she forgot about something. Was she supposed to pick up a cake? No that can't be right, the wedding is still quite a while away and she does remember her mom talking about narrowing down the selection but still not deciding on the actual flavor quite yet.
“The cake?”
“I love cake!” JJ chimes in which grants him another smile from Stevie’s mom.
“Yes, the cake. Richard and I were supposed to go sample our selections again and make a decision but now some of his family is in Charleston and we are going over to have lunch with them but we can’t reschedule the appointment with the bakery sooooo I need you, my sweet darling child, “ she explains and gives Stevie a teasing tap on the cheek, “and you JJ, to go and try the samples for me and make notes and help me with my decision. I have my favorites and so does Rich but we also want our guests to enjoy the cake so having some help with our decision would be great. You don’t have anything else planned, do you?”
There is a nagging pain in the back of Stevie’s head, not a full-on headache but a sting, annoying and grueling. Mom isn’t to blame, it is true after all. Stevie has no plans. Nothing on her plate. Just time and time and time and nothing meaningful to fill them with. No jobs lined up. No ideas. Nothing. It still hurts when her mom says it so nonchalantly.
“We’re so in! Trust me, Leslie we will give you a very detailed list of all our favorite flavors. I’ll try them several times even, just to make sure I give you the most accurate description.”
“How selfless of you, JJ. Stevie, is that okay with you?”
And how could she say no to that? How could she ever say no to her mom counting on her? Or JJ smiling at her like that? How could she ever say no to free cake?
“You know we could’ve just taken the car right?”
JJ shakes his head as he walks down the little dock behind his house. It’s a cute house, small and homey and from the outside Stevie can tell that JJ has fixed up a lot of it himself. He lives here with John B. and Sarah. Not because he couldn’t afford to buy it for himself but because he doesn’t want to be alone. It breaks and mends her heart all at once to hear those words from him. And it makes her infinitely thankful for John B.
“Absolutely not! We are going to a cake tasting at the country club bakery. The same place we worked at years ago and had people treat us like shit. We’re going to arrive in style and they will fucking hate it.”
“Okay, yeah. You have a point.”
JJ leads her down the dock towards a small Fountain Sportfish Cruiser. All shiny blue and white and not unlike his father’s old Phantom.
Stevie lets out a whistle as they approach the boat. “Look at that beauty.”
“She’s my baby. Saved all my money after we opened the Shack and got her the moment I had enough. So let me introduce you to this jewel of the sea.”
He always had a flair for the dramatic and in another life maybe JJ could’ve been an actor. He had that kind of unhinged theater kid vibe to him. But this was no other life, this was right here and now and so his eccentrics get channeled into his antics as he steps aboard the boat and holds out his hand to Stevie.
“Baby, this is Stevie, my wife.”
Hearing those words will never fail to send a flurry of fireworks going off inside her. No matter if the days are numbered, Stevie takes a certain kind of pride in holding that title. She admits and acknowledges that the whole marriage was a silly little dream dreamt up by some silly little teenagers. Stupid, possibly. Irresponsibly, most definitely. But it felt right in that moment and she can’t blame her younger self for it. Being called JJ’s wife has a certain something to it. Still does.
“Stevie, this is Iris.”
In a swirly font, dark blue on white it says “Iris” on the side of the boat and Stevie forgets how to breathe for a second.
JJ has that look on his face, that one that makes time stop. He’s waiting for her to say something, to acknowledge the roots of their past as they tangle themselves around the letters on the side of the boat. To see if she remembers. As if she could ever forget.
Suddenly images flood her mind. JJ and her, only much younger and with hearts less scarred. It’s a warm sunny day in that enchanted space somewhere between spring and summer where the world is still new but the air is heavy with the possibility of all the adventures yet to come. Stevie is in a pair of cut-off jeans and one of JJ’s sweaters. JJ’s hair is tousled and unkept and longer than usual. It was the year he tried to grow it out which only lasted a few weeks before he got annoyed with it and cut it shorter again. Stevie thought he looked like a Disney prince.
“Mom says to tell you thanks for helping with the garden the other day.”
The rays of sunshine feel warm against her skin as she lays on a blanket spread out in her backyard, JJ next to her.
“No problem. Garden looks great by the way, she did real good this year with all the flowers.”
“Right? I think so too,” she lets her gaze wander around the yard, a kaleidoscope of colors. Pinks and Reds and Whites and Purples. “Which ones are your favorite?”
JJ leans up on his elbows and surveys the yard for a moment. “Those purple and yellow ones”.
Stevie remembers so vividly the spark of warmth spreading through her heart as he said those words.
“The Iris! That’s my favorite too!”
“Really, not the roses?”
“No, I mean I like roses, who doesn’t? But my mom has been planting Irises in our garden since I was little so they always remind me of home. I think — never mind.”
“Hey, uh-uh. What did you want to say?”
“It’s stupid.”
But JJ never thought so and if he did he never let her notice. JJ always gave you the feeling of being the most interesting person on earth with the way he listened so intensely.
“Never. Come on, spill.”
“I think I might want to call my future kid Iris. If I ever have a daughter that is.”
He’s quiet for a second, contemplating, then scrunches his nose. “Nah. Doesn’t match with the last name.”
“Iris Collins? You think that doesn’t match?”
“Not Collins. Maybank.”
“Maybank huh? You stealing my hypothetical future kid’s name now?”
“Nah,” JJ replies and pulls Stevie into his arms. “Just think if we’re talking about hypothetical future kids — they might as well be ours. Because I’d really like to spend my hypothetical future with you. Marriage and kids and all.”
It’s the first time they ever talked about this. Of course she wanted this, at 15 it feels like your love is all-consuming and everlasting. But this is the first time they truly ever mentioned it. The first time JJ ever mentioned it. And it means everything.
It meant everything then and it means everything now that she is stepping on a boat named after their silly little fantasy.
“That’s a beautiful name.”
“Thanks. Named her after a dream I once had.”
“I feel so bougie this is weird.”
“But a good weird, right?”
The patio of the country club is drenched in sunlight, and the sound of waves crashing against the shore mixes with the gentle hum of the jazz music coming from the overhead speakers as more and more cake slices get placed on the table in front of them.
Stevie and JJ are both well familiar with the fancy white dishes with the silver trim around the edges. So many hours have been spent carrying plates to and from the tables, fake smiles plastered on their faces in order to hopefully get a little tip from the guests. It hardly ever worked. Tourists were the only ones who would tip them well, the local kooks just stuck up their noses, sometimes adding a mean comment to the mix for good measure.
“Yeah, a good weird. If the kooks could see us now, they’d hate it so much. Kelce and Ruthie and all those assholes.”
“Imagine if our younger selves could see us now, I don’t think they would believe it.”
JJ takes a sip of the complementary champagne that was provided to them — actual champagne! Not sparkling wine or prosecco. Champagne! Though Stevie must admit she much prefers a can of ice-cold beer by the lake to this fizzy concoction. Still feels nice to be fancy for once.
“Uh, yeah. I promised you one day we’d be the ones they’d serve fancy food to on fancy plates with their fancy bow ties and their fancy fizzy drinks. I always knew we’d end up here one day.”
“When did you ever say that, JJ?”
“It was right there,” he says and points to a bench by the side of the building a bit further away and outside of the few of the guests. “someone had just spilled red wine on you and made a stupid comment and you were crying and this close to quitting. And I said — “
“Oh, I remember! It was that bitch Abby who spilled her wine on me, on purpose.”
“Right! Well, remember what I said?”
“You said Pogues ain’t no quitters.”
“True.”
“And you said to let them talk because one day we’ll sit right there and drink champagne from crystal glasses and eat food out on the patio and they will hate it.”
“Mmh.”
“And if I remember correctly you said it might take until we’re in our 40s and your hair will be all gone and my boobs might be saggy by then.”
JJ laughs before combing one hand through his golden sunkissed hair.
“Thank god I was wrong about the timing. Hair is still all intact and your boobs are still phenomenal.”
Another plate is placed before them and a silent understanding passes as they both reach for one of the ridiculously tiny forks provided. An understanding that some things can stay unspoken. That sometimes life gives you moments that are all yours to feel. Where the younger version of you is watching from somewhere deep inside your heart and all you get to feel is pride and happiness.
“Holy shit, this raspberry and white chocolate one is amazing. That’s my favorite.”
“JJ, it’s the first one you tried.”
“Sometimes you know right away.”
Yeah, she thinks looking into his eyes as they are filled with undiluted joy, sometimes you know all along.
“Are you ever sad we didn’t have this?”
“Hmm?”
Stevie is looking up at JJ now, surprised by the change in tone. Where just seconds ago he was joking around now there is a sense of sincerity and vulnerability.
“You know, for our wedding. The whole big ass cake and invitations printed on thick paper and a real proper reception.”
As most little girls do, Stevie had thought about what she wanted her wedding to be like from the moment she had first watched The Little Mermaid on VHS. Big poofy dress, a cake at least 4 layers high with little figurines on top resembling her and her husband, and maybe having it happen on a big ship wouldn’t have been too bad either. But those ideas changed as she got older, warped and vanished, and got replaced by different ones.
And then JJ shook it all up in the best and most unexpected way.
“I loved our wedding, JJ. It was perfect.”
“But did you not want this? More?”
“No. It was you and our friends and that’s all I needed. If anything I think I might have wanted my mom there and Syd.”
“Well, next time I’ll give you a big wedding and we’ll invite everyone we know.”
“Nex time?”
“Yeah,” JJ says and nonchalantly shrugs his shoulder before stuffing his mouth with another bite of cake — carrot cake with vanilla buttercream. “I thought I was being obvious. I’m gonna make you fall head over heels back in love with me and then obviously we’re going to have to renew our vows. And now we actually have money to throw a big wedding soooo.”
Leave it to JJ to say something earth-shattering like this that makes the earth stop spinning all while looking unbothered and sampling another piece of cake — lemon cake with lavender buttercream. “I don’t like this one. Tastes a bit soapy.”
“JJ.”
“Huh?”
“We — you can’t just say stuff like that.”
“Sorry. Does taste soapy though, no offense to the baker I’m sure it’s on purpose.”
“Not that. The other thing!”
“Oh,” he replies and wipes some crumbs from the corner of his mouth “Don’t freak out. I was just joking. Obviously.”
He tries to underline his words with a smile, a shrug of the shoulders. But Stevie is not sure she believes him. Not sure if a joke was really all that was.
And she’s not sure why his words being a joke feels so damn devastating to her.
“Okay so top 3”
“Raspberry and white chocolate”
“Yup.”
“Key lime and coconut ”
“Agreed.”
“and third is French Vanilla with Sea Salt Caramel”
“Absolutely!”
The sun is about to dip behind the horizon painting the sky in vivid shades of orange and gold. Stevie always loved this time of day. It feels special. The heat of the day is cooling down just a little and the cicadas start to sing.
Her back rests against the wooden swing on JJ’s porch. “Every porch obviously needs a porch swing, it’s science,” he told her. It makes perfect sense in every which way you want to look at it.
“Your mom is going to be so proud of us we nailed this list. Everyone at the wedding is gonna be like ‘damn who chose those delicious cakes?’ And we’re gonna be like ‘It was us, you’re welcome’!”
Stevie takes a sip from the ice-cold beer clutched in her hand. There’s just something about sharing a beer with an old friend on a warm summer evening. An old friend who is also your husband and probably the love of your life? But those are feelings Stevie is not ready to face. Not now. Maybe not ever.
“Well, least something she can be proud of me for.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Work has been going pretty shit lately. Mom made all these sacrifices to support my interests and send me to all these writing classes and everything. She believed in me and my talents and what do I have to show for myself? Fuck all. I want to write a book so badly but all my ideas get stuck somewhere between my head and my hands and end up in this endless nothingness. So I keep a roof over my head by writing about horoscopes and D-list celebrities for sketchy clickbait blogs. And oh I forgot the last thing I wrote was a quiz telling you what kind of cheese you are based on your favorite Taylor Swift album. So much for that great writing career, I was dreaming of.”
“First of all, that quiz was great. I’m brie, if you’re curious.”
“You did the quiz?”
“Yeah,” he says and throws his empty beer can towards the trashcan by the door, missing by a mile. “I read everything you write. Just because you disappeared doesn’t mean I didn’t keep tabs on you even if all I got was clickbait articles and fun quizzes. Was enough for me to know you wrote it. I was always your biggest fan, that hasn’t changed.”
Back when they were kids and Stevie started writing little nonsensical stories, JJ was always the first one who got to read them and he would give her actual feedback on them, always honest but never mean. JJ was her first fan, her first supporter, her first reader.
“Thank you, JJ. It’s — It feels good to hear that.”
“Sure. You always had my back, not sure I ever really told you how brilliant I think you are.”
“Well at this point you are the only one thinking that, unfortunately”
“Oh my god, I can’t believe you of all people have to be reminded of what Billy Joel says.”
“Huh?”
“You made me listen to Vienna ad nauseam and now you don’t remember the words? ‘Slow down, you're doing fine. You can't be everything you wanna be before your time'. Those words mean anything to you?”
Stevie is unsure what surprises her more, his statement or the fact that he knows the term ad nauseam and how to use it correctly. Either way, him quoting Billy Joel to her sends tiny sparks up her back.
“I just feel so lost. What story do I possibly have to tell that the world needs to hear?”
“Us. You should write about us.”
Stevie raises her eyebrow in confusion. “You and I?”
“No. Well, yes. But not just us. All of the Pogues. About our life here, our adventures, our family. I think it’s a story people would like to hear and who better to tell it than you? Princess Pogue herself?“
There’s nothing sexier, nothing more gut-wrenchingly wonderful than a person who believes in you entirely and irrevocably. Even when you don’t believe in yourself. Especially when you don’t believe in yourself.
“That’s — not a bad idea actually.”
“I do have those occasionally. Now you have to dedicate the book to me though, you know that right? It’s important to me to hear you say that.”
As if moving on autopilot, Stevie leans towards JJ and places a soft kiss against his cheek.
“I promise.”
His words from earlier come swirling back through Stevie’s mind. “I’m gonna make you fall head over heal back in love with me”
And for the first time since she’s back in the Outer Banks, Stevie allows herself to entertain that thought. Just for a second. And then one more and one more.
And she doesn’t stop thinking about it during her entire way back to the plastic palace.
And she still hears his voice as she closes her eyes and falls into a dreamless sleep.
#jj maybank x oc#jj maybank x foc#jj maybank x female oc#jj maybank x f!oc#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank x fanfic#jj maybank imagine#outer banks fanficton#outer banks writing#outer banks fanfic#outer banks imagine#outer banks imagines
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[07 Summer Ariel]
Ariel quirked her mouth, leant her back against the edge of Summer's bed, eyes scanning over one of many songs they had written together. The idea of performing one of them, to people outside their family, had been floated around once, or twice. But Ariel always got cold feet about the idea. Ironic, considering what she did online, but she supposes she at least has the excuse of some anonymity when it came to that.
Biting her bottom lip, Ariel soon looks up to Summer, humming slightly,
"Hey so, not saying we will, but, if you were to choose a song of ours to perform at one of those underground concert things we go to, well, which one you pick?" Ariel asked, maybe beginning to feel a little brave, "Not saying we will, just, yanno...curious."
| muse Interaction
Summer had her beautiful most prized and cared for belonging, her bass guitar. The only thing in her room that was ever properly put away and cared for. As he was idly strumming cords on Crim, what she lovingly called her bass. Short for Crimson why? well red was very much her families color after all? It was the color her papa was more associated with and his own favorite of course. Her Dad despite claiming his was green also owned quite a bit of red himself. Summer's was pink, hot pink mostly, but she always wore one of Raphael's old masks either around the arm of her jacket or tied around her wrist. The fact Crim was also Crimson had a lot to do with the choice of why Summer just had to buy her bass. She was just idly trying to find a fitting tune to work with in the moment.
Letting fingers and pick work the strings. The more deep rich low sound of her instruments often had a lot to do with the sound of the music that she and Ariel would come up with. Summer wasn't the strongest reader unless it was music notes. Though in truth a lot of what she made up was on the fly. Summer swears the music just finds her. Hard to fully explain. Trying to figure out how the sound of their current song should move though. As she replayed the bit they had and then would experiment with the bridge keeping it to the same melody sometimes switching it. Mulling it all over in her mind to try and figure out well she waiting on her sister.
Ariel was sat on the floor her back resting to the end of Summer's bed, thanks to her height though she was easily see from where Summer was sitting. She seemed deep in thought Summer just assumed it was over where they wanted to go with their current project.
Music might not fully match Summer's love for hockey but it still held a special place in her heart. Especially because it was very much her and Ariels thing. Ariel perfer vocals of course where summer was far more into the notes. Soon summer just starts to play some notes from "under the sea"
"Hey, when ya gonna post that cover?" Summer remarks deciding the lull in the creative process was more so they could use a break. As she kept messing around with notes from the same song. Summer may go brain numb from all the tomes she has had to listen about those movies, but she had to admit the songs were fun. The closest Ariel got to human interaction was from posting her covers and such and sometimes the stuff they made together. Which was why Summer always over sold her poor sisters work on her platforms whenever they were posted. With a million emojis to draw more attetion towards them. And because Summer just always needed an excuse to type out emojis.
"Could post 'his song up to when we finish it," Summer soon sighs our loudly, "but my brain is fried!" She fake whines a moment." I blame it on all the schoolwork, slowly killing my creative thoughts." As if summer had many in the first place. "Hmm, maybe we should sneak back to the underground?" Summer soon suggests "jus' ta hang out get inspired ya know? Might help?" And it was an excuse to go again even if Summer went by herself, never too long her Dad's worried after all. Butnit was more fun with Ariel.
Ariel seemed to like the idea though once Summer suggested it. Besides not loke poor Ariel got to get out and about as much compared to Summer. Even if it had to be under cover and such. Summer soon set Crim down back in the case. Shutting it and locking it up as she moved to lay over the end of her bed to get a better look at her sister. Phone in her hands as she right away went to start seeing about the underground going ons for the night.
Many of the people who often went tweeted about it and gave updates on if the times it would be operating would be different or if any if the people Summer and Ariel liked would be there.
"Hey so, not saying we will, but, if you were to choose a song of ours to perform at one of those underground concert things we go to, well, which one you pick?"
Summer lowered her phone at the mention and her head near about snapped when she looked at her sister blue hue growing in size as she slowly let her smile work over his lips.
"Not saying we will, just, yanno...curious."
Unfortunately for Ariel hypothetical did not exist for Summer.
As she moves on to her knees and scoots off the end of her bed basically falling as she scrambles to sit beside Ariel now. "I got a list!" She exclaims with bit futher explanation nor sign she understood this was meant to be taken as something that was going to happen. Summer reached under her bed soon after. Not even having to actually look where others saw nothing but a mess when looking at her room. Summer actually knew where all her things were roughly. Proven at she finally uncovered her find. She tugged hard to free her notebook.
As there seems to be some cause and effect, a few items rolling out from the side that Summer ignores.
"See if we went on a busier night I feel the more upbeat junk be betta, buuuut if it were" summers soon starts to ramble on cleaely exposing how much she has thought about this her self. Explain why certiens songs would be more fitting for the underground compared to others and how crowed size would affect how well her voice would carry in the room to fit the mood and tone as well. Soon handing over her note book with her awful bearly ligeable handwriting. Where all these thought were contained too. Till this moment that is.
"An' it seems 'ike tonight gonna be a more chill one so we can do somethin' more chill but since it's the first time I feel it betta ta show off our sound instead." Smiling bright as she waits for Ariel to see all her notes and soak in what she just said. "Whatcha 'hink?"
#muse| summer jones#madamkezzie#aflockoffeathers#[ sister from another mister -aflockoffeathers]#muse interaction#ic reply#stay queued#((Ariel im sorry but you baiscally just told her that you want to u-u))
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how he loves
ayato x reader
gn reader
growing up, ayato was given things of monetary value rather than emotional. a boy of a rich family clan, believed to have only been thankful for gifts that could benefit himself. expensive papers, governmental trips, etc.
always sent alone.
expensive gifts and grand contributions were all he had to show any appreciation he held for others
he wants nothing more than to make you feel like the greatest soul on earth, yet can only give as much as his unspoken words are worth. and, let’s be honest, those words are barely worth even seven mora. lovely wishes of fortune upon you become poorly said harsh judgements.
he just can’t form words. maybe it’s because of how whenever he sees your features he’s speechless.. or maybe he just sucks at talking without sounding cocky.
his love for you runs rapidly throughout his veins, pumping through his heart and filling every area of his body with the thick love he feels. he wishes for nothing more than to make your heart flutter as he romances you.
words meant a lot, and he was trying to use them.
he has attempted many times to write love letters for you. scrapped poems piled up in his trash bin as he hunches over his desk. he couldn’t begin to write anything that could fit how much he cared for you.
you were perfect to him, far too great for the mediocre words written by him on lined paper. nothing could compare to the beauty that sprouted from inside of you. he adores your smile, your eyes, your everything.
he just can’t express it in any form other than gifts.
watches with crystal core engravings, watatsumi pearl earrings, anything. he wishes he could buy your love, but that’d make it easy.
fancy dinner dates and paid for expeditions to the most intricate places of teyvat are the most of your anniversary gifts. but, at the bottom of the giant gift box, there was a short letter.
an endless supply of milk tea could never amount to the joyousness which fills my heart as i caress your cheeks. i want nothing more than to spend all of eternity with you, if you would have me?
you look up from the letter, dropping it as you see ayato perched on one knee, a tear dripping down his cheek.
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Here's the sneak peek at Burden Part 7 as well as a few songs that I think fit the vibe Part 7 is giving. 😂
And here is the sneak peek! Enjoy! 🔮
Laughter echoed in his ears as he lay in the sun kissed fields of Fiddler's Green. There were few moments that Dream of the Endless could recall feeling so at peace, but this was certainly one of them. He could see the bright hues of the orange light bleeding into the rich purples of impending night. The light clouds shifted in the gentle breeze, making way for the starlight. More beautiful than that sight was the sound of her laughter.
Dream turned his head just enough to find her glowing ethereal figure. Her hair cascaded over her shoulder as she bent over to dip her hands into the crystal pool of water at her feet. The dress he'd made her had dirt and leaves stuck to the bottom, but she didn't seem to notice or maybe she simply didn't care. She laughed again as the taller blades of grass shifted, tickling the side of her neck, a game Fiddler's Green had taken up to bring the usually reserved immortal to laughter.
The fading sunlight cast the perfect glow over her, a halo of light curled around her head as she looked up and met his gaze. Daunt smiled, the sight of it alone sending Dream adrift on waves of longing and joy - such things he'd not allowed himself to feel for a very long time. He could not help the way he instantly smiled back, nor the way his heart raced as she came to join him in the grass.
Flowers sprouted up beneath her thicker of hair as she settled beside him and turned her head. "What are you thinking about?"
You. He'd almost said - wanted to say. "I was simply admiring the peacefulness."
Daunt hummed softly, reciting the tune she always did when she hummed. It was the same tune they'd first danced to that night so long ago here in Fiddler's Green. He did not recognize the melody from the humans, but had not dared ask her its significance for fear of causing her to retreat. After a moment she sighed, looking up at the sky as the darker shades began to overtake it. "No matter how many times I see it, I'll never grow tired of this view."
His eyes never left her face, memorizing every detail of her. The way her skin glowed and how her lips pursed ever so slightly when she stopped talking, the way the light caught her dark eyes and made the color of them more vibrant. "Neither will I."
"We should go," she said, a sadness causing her brows to crease. "It will be night soon enough."
"There is still time," he assured her.
"Do you intend to keep the dreamers waiting?" She questioned with an amused look.
Dream chuckled, reaching out and brushing his fingers across the back of her hand. "Were it within my power I would stop the turn of the Earth to prolong this moment of rare tranquility."
"I'm sure your father would love that." Her hand opened to his and their fingers wove together.
They had held hands many times, danced even more, but it was never enough. Dream wanted to feel her touch for eternity. He wanted to see her beautiful smile every moment if every day. Most of all he wished to hear her laughter, it was such a rare occurrence which was truly criminal considering how melodic it was. "Are you happy?"
"Happy?" She repeated the word with caution, as if even the mere thought of the word would bring about some world ending event. "I… Think so. I've never been happy for long, so it's hard to tell sometimes. But," she smiled again, meeting his eyes. "I am happy when I am with you."
"As I am happy when you are near me." He admitted gently.
"You haven't grown tired of me yet?"
Dream twisted slightly, moving to stroke her cheek. "I could never grow tired of you, Daunt."
Worry, doubt and a hopefulness all shined back at him through her eyes. "Do you promise?"
"I swear it."
With a relieved sigh she stood, turning to offer her hand to him. "Come with me Morpheus."
"Here in the darkness."
The sunlight faded as he reached for her hand. "Morpheus, please."
"Here in the darkness."
Daunts face twisted into the pained, tear stained expression he'd last seen before she left. "Morpheus."
"Here in the darkness."
Dream opened his eyes to the achingly bright light that reflected within his glass prison. All feelings of comfort… safety… home was gone as the dark world of Roderick Burgess' basement brought him back to reality. He was a captive here. Summoned and bound by some ameture magician and his cult of mindless sheep. For the first time in his existence Dream of the Endless was powerless.
In the quiet he thought of many things. His escape, the vengeance in store for his captors, The Dreaming and most of all Daunt. Every time he closed his eyes he could see her, joyful and smiling at him before those memories of her touch were replaced by the ones of her hands grinding beneath his as her tearful eyes looked up at him in fear. Looking at his own blurred reflection in the glass he hardly recognized himself. Would she recognize me? He wondered. Did she even know what had befallen him? Did she even care?
"Fear not, Dream Lord, I'll not make such mistakes again."
No. Wherever she was, Dream was certain thoughts of him had not crossed her mind at all.
#Spotify#burden#dream of the endless x reader#dream of the endless x daunt!reader#morpheus x daunt reader#dream of the endless x daunt reader#morpheus x daunt#daunt#sneak peek
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Diary of a mall Santa Claus
You're so sweet for giving me hearts and reblogs for my four lines! 😀 Here is a little more 😚
13
Cheer up Day
*
There's something different about Timmy today.
He doesn't glow. Instead, he looks like a pile of misery.
His whole figure shows that he is sad. And angry, somehow.
"What happened?"
"I had an audition yesterday and they just called to tell me I didn't get the part."
Armie feels like he himself is the one who didn't get the part. "I'm so sorry..." And to cheer him up, he adds, "Wankers!"
Timmy smiles only half-heartedly though, and Armie realizes that it's obviously going to take more than a few curses to cheer him up.
So the whole shift he's totally goofy, cracking jokes with the kids, being the dorkiest Santa ever, completely over the top, making a fool of himself just to take Timmy's mind off things, and it's a load off his mind when he finally sees Timmy smile and even laugh.
The sadness returns, however, when the shift is over.
As agreed, it's Timmy's turn to accompany Armie to his hotel, even though Armie tells him he doesn't have to if he doesn't feel like it. But Timmy insists.
He's very silent, but when Armie asks him after a while if he wants to talk about the audition, he vents.
"I would have been right for the part, I know that! I don't want to sound arrogant, but I could have played it well! I know exactly how the role feels. I know how the role thinks. I just know it. And I can play it! You're probably thinking what an arrogant asshole I am but I just know I could have done it, done it well. The role would have been so great, finally I could have played a real character in a good movie! Not just this TV ... stuff. Oh man, that sounds so unfair. Like I'm not grateful for it. I am! But I ... argh!" He sighs in resignation. "I'd better stop, or I'll make things worse."
Armie is quite impressed by Timmy's passion, which goes far beyond normal disappointment, and he has to smile at Timmy's constant attempt to be fair and include all sides in his outburst.
"You don't sound arrogant," he assures him. "It's good to know what you can do. But it's often just coincidences that they choose one and not the other, isn't it?"
"They picked someone else from my class. And I feel like they just took him because he looks different than me!
I don't want to be someone they don't take because they think my looks wouldn't fit a role. Because they think I'm too pretty or something."
Armie has to smile again, because he can't imagine anyone who doesn't want to see Timmy's beautiful face go through every possible emotion there is in the world.
"We should start a 'too pretty to act' support group," he suggests to lighten the mood, but has to correct himself, "Although with me, it's more about people thinking I shouldn't want anything in life because I'm rich, white and good-looking."
Timmy sighs, "That sucks, doesn't it? When people are so judgmental."
There's a small pause.
"Your time will come," Armie says. "As passionate as you are about it, your time will come. And I'm not just saying that. Your next chance will come. I mean, you're nineteen, for fuck's sake."
Timmy still doesn't seem convinced.
"I feel like I've already blown it and I'm going to be on stupid TV shows for the rest of my life! I feel like I'm already too old to get where I want to go."
And this time Armie really has to laugh out loud.
"Too old?"
Timmy rolls his eyes at not being taken seriously, so Armie changes the subject and asks, "What kind of role was it?"
"It was just a small role, but interesting! A son of a father whose daughter disappeared. And the director is sooo good. I would have loved to work with him. And I blew it! I fucking blew it."
"Maybe one day you'll work with this director because he's seen you now and he'll remember you. As far as I can tell, I'd love to see you act. And as a wise actor once told me, don't beat yourself up, it only makes it worse."
Timmy has to smile at this, and Armie is relieved that Timmy's displeasure with this situation is slowly fading. At least for the moment.
And then they continue to talk about acting and life as they walk along, and it just feels so damn good.
When they arrive at the Hilton, Armie can't resist, he just has to pull Timmy into his arms, holds him tight and his heart leaps when he realizes Timmy is holding him too.
Again they say goodbye until the next day and smile at each other.
That smile remains on Armie's face as he enters the hotel, as he enters the elevator, as he enters his room.
And Armie's intention?
It's not that he doesn't want to get into Timmy's pants anymore, but he just… loves it the way it is right now.
*
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Elorcan Week Day 3 - Shirt Shorts
Celebrating the many uses of Lorcan's shirt!
This fic for @elorcanweek2022 was written from a prompt from @mercarimari
Place It On My Shoulders
Read on AO3 (comments appreciated and loved and coveted)
The first thing Lorcan noticed was how small she looked, her body bent to fit neatly within the frame of the window. Her slender arms enfolded her knees, and he knew that beyond the waterfall of silken midnight she was resting her cheek on one of them, her fathomless dark eyes gazing out over the now-empty battlefield. A killing field that the two of them had been helping to clear of the dead for the last three days. She should be exhausted - sleeping - but she hadn’t even changed out of her gown, and though his breeches tightened remembering the sight of her in something finer than leather and linen smudged with blood and dirt, his dark brows bunched in concern.
That Elide Lochan, indomitable Lady of Perranth and hero of the Battle of Orynth, hadn’t even made an effort to appear that she had even tried to sleep… that small vulnerability gripped his heart.
“I thought you were going to bed,” he murmured, and she started even though his voice had been barely a breath in the night. The colossal male barely gave her a chance to look up, striding over and sweeping her up in his arms. His tiny bride-to-be - a title with which he was still incandescently thrilled and likely irritatingly smug - didn’t even make a sound, though her arms circled his neck and clutched herself tightly to him, as if she was afraid he might disappear.
“Elide,” he whispered, his worry gnawing at him as he carried her into the bedchamber of the sprawling suite. He had teased his warrior Lady that he was lucky to be marrying rich, which had earned him the most delicious, scrunched-nose scowl and a tiny punch to the shoulder. The room was dark, but his fae eyes led them straight to the bed. “I’m going to set you down so I can get us some light. But I won’t be far, and I’ll be quick.” Lorcan felt the need to reassure her, unnerved by the way she so desperately clung to him. But her chin dragged against his chest as she nodded wordlessly, and he pressed a kiss to her brow before placing her on the edge of the mattress.
As he moved through the rooms, lighting enough candles and oil lamps for Elide’s human eyes to see, she still did not utter a single word. When he stopped in front of her she did not look up, expression vacant and eyes distant, and the dark-haired fae wondered if she may be ill or experiencing some sort of delayed shock from the violence and death she’d witnessed these past days… weeks and months, too.
“Elide. My cunning little warrior,” he breathed, kneeling before her and cupping her face in his broad hands. Her lashes fluttered as she blinked, beautiful midnight gaze finally focusing on him. “There you are.” He smiled gently and she whispered his name, a breath of a prayer, her tiny fingers curling around his wrists.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Lorcan brushed onyx strands away from her face, the tendrils having strayed from the rivers of blackest night that flowed over her shoulder. Her focus shifted slightly, eyes darting toward the window.
“I–” Elide’s voice cracked, as if she hadn’t spoken in hours. The fae male dragged his thumbs across her cheeks in encouragement as she swallowed and tried again. “I can’t seem to relax. I know the war is over. I know the danger is past, that Morath is no longer a nightmare looming over my shoulder. That Vernon is dead and I’ll never feel the cold weight of chains on my ankles and wrists.”
It was all Lorcan could do to contain the dark power writhing within him, desperate to break free. It should have concerned him, this desire to watch the world burn for nothing more than the fact that this human woman had not been given the life she deserved. But he knew his fury was warranted - found solace within the rightness of how it felt to be so utterly dedicated to her vengeance and her protection.
Her shoulders rose and fell with a shuddering sigh, and he could feel the tension in her body. Lorcan’s heart cracked when silver glimmered along her lashes. “I’ve been in survival mode nearly as long as I can remember. And I–” Elide choked on her words, and he slid a palm down to her neck, his thumb skating along her jaw. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to pull myself out of that. I don’t want to be afraid forever, Lorcan.” The demi-fae leaned forward, capturing the tear that had escaped against his lips. Then he pressed them gently to Elide’s petal-soft ones and began working deftly at the laces of her bodice. Then he bent to lift the hem of her skirt.
“Can you stand, Elide? Only for a moment, love.” He didn’t have time to cringe against the endearment that would normally feel so foreign and contrived against his tongue. All the dark male knew was that she needed the encouragement, which appeared to work as she slowly rose, allowing him to pull her gown up over her head. Lorcan dropped it atop the bed linens and then gripped his tunic at the back of his neck, pulling it off in one languid, graceful pull. He commanded softly, “Arms up,” as he turned the sleeves the right side out, promptly sliding the billowing sleeves down Elide’s slender arms and letting the garment fall into place, swallowing her to her knees. It had been a revelation, seeing her in one of his shirts for the first time. The sight could bring him to his knees, and yet made him feel like the most powerful male. The wave of possessiveness had been feral and nearly unhinged, and that remained the same now, woven with protectiveness and devotion. Knowing she was so strong, in such a tiny, breakable body… it was often nearly too much to experience all at once.
And how could he forget that she loved wearing it too. She had told him, not long after they had given themselves to each other for the first time, that she would rather wear his tunics than anything else. That the scent of him reminded her that she was safe and loved, and that she could hide her body from wandering eyes and still know that he would know everything that was beneath it. It was that security and adoration that she needed now, and he was glad to sacrifice a shirt to help with that. He swept her up and tossed her dress to the floor, earning a half-hearted grumble as he pulled back the blankets and climbed onto the mattress, cradling his fragile, incredible woman close as he leaned back against the headboard.
“Elide,” he murmured as he tucked her head under his chin and wove his fingers into her silken locks, “even if you weren’t one of the bravest, strongest people I’ve ever known, you would not have to be afraid. You will never be alone again, and I will protect you with all that I am. Let go of your fear. Place it on my shoulders. It is no longer your burden to carry.” The trembling in her taut muscles eased as he combed through her hair, fingertips grazing her back, but she was still wound so tightly, her body unable to recognize that there was no looming threat. But Lorcan thought maybe he knew a way to ease her body and her mind. Grasping her waist, his fingers almost touching as they circled her, he lifted her and turned her to face him, gently placing her back down so her lovely pale thighs were straddling his, a luscious contrast of milky white against supple black leather.
As arousing as the position promised to be, his never-waning desire for her was not part of this moment. This was about Elide - his Elide - and the safety he was determined for her to feel. He held her jaw between his hands, tilting her face up to look at him. Silent tears trailed down her cheeks, but his breath caught when he looked into her shimmering onyx eyes. Through the wetness they shone with such staggering trust that it threatened to steal his breath entirely. To be gifted with such a thing from this woman, who had suffered so much by those who should have earned it easily…
“What are you thinking?” he wondered aloud, his stare boring into her very soul, his heart overflowing with love and light. Things he never thought he would experience. Would deserve. Lorcan kissed her, reveling in the warmth and softness of her lips. “Do you feel safe with me, Elide?” Her tiny, delicate hands rested against his bare chest and slid their way to the back of his neck.
“You are the only person who has ever made me feel safe. Since my parents died,” she answered, a ghost of a smile tilting her mouth. Lorcan moved his hands to her shoulders and began kneading his fingers into them, working against the tension. Her thick lashes fluttered as her eyes closed, her mouth releasing a sinful groan as her head tilted back. And he couldn’t help but chuckle. His arms moved under hers and he began massaging down the the rest of her back.
“Let it fall away, Elide,” he encouraged, leaning in to press tender kisses to the column of her exposed throat. “You are home, in Terrasen. The war is over. You are safe. You are home and surrounded by people who love you and will protect you.” As he worked further down, Elide leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his middle as she burrowed her face into his neck.
“And you have a male at your side who loved you before he even knew what love was. He is a dark, menacing thing, but he will be forever devoted to your protection and your happiness.” She sank into him, her body melting against him as it finally began to relax as he continued to work her muscles and murmur gently to her. Her head shifted slightly, and he felt her lips at the base of his neck.
“I never knew you had such a talent for beautiful words.” Her voice was muffled against his skin, but when he laughed in response he could feel her body shake with a tiny giggle, and the worry that had coiled around his heart began to ease. Lorcan’s palms found the flesh of her thighs and stroked up and down. Slowly. Tenderly. A gentle lover’s caress.
“You needed them,” he replied, the answer obvious to him. The warrior would always be gruff and intimidating. He would likely scowl too often and growl in frustration far too much for what would be expected from the Lord of Perranth. But he would sacrifice his intense reputation and fall upon his knees - be regarded as a simpering fool by the world - if it meant that Elide would be comforted and treasured. Her lips whispered a ‘thank you’ against his skin, and he wound his arms around her, holding her close as her breaths became longer and deeper. Until she finally succumbed to the exhaustion that she had been fighting, likely for days. Lorcan untangled himself from her, careful not to wake her as he slid her onto the bed, and then quickly stood, stretching his arms over his head to remove any kinks from the position he’d been bent into. He plucked Elide’s discarded dress from the floor and draped it over the back of the chair before the fireplace, his own breeches joining it a moment later. With a casual flick of his power he doused the candles and the lamps, the room falling into darkness as he climbed into bed and curled himself around his beautiful Lady, her hands instinctively curling around his arm even in her sleep. And with a smile that he showed so few he pulled her tightly against him and whispered into her hair, “I love you, Elide.”
@headcanonheadcase @mystical-blaise @ofduskanddreams @tealnymph-writes @vikingmagic33
#elorcan#elorcan supremacy#elorcan week#elorcan week 2022#elide lochan#lorcan salvaterre#kingdom of ash#sjm#sarah j maas#elide x lorcan#elorcan fluff#soft lorcan#fluff and comfort#elorcan fanfiction#my writing#my fanfic writing#my fanfic asks#tumblr prompt#throne of glass#ao3 fanfiction
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Maybank ; Rafe Cameron (Part 2)
Part #2
Read part #1 here
masterlist
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader
Summary: Sometimes both sides are in the wrong.
Warnings: More angst, mentions of substance, gaslighting!
A/N: you know the drill. . . send requests!
(Y/N) isn’t one to feel jealous easily.
When she dated a certain boy from her school a few years ago, she wasn’t even phased when she had found him kissing another girl at a party.
She simply didn’t care.
But the aching feeling in her when she saw her current boyfriend sniffing a line on the back of a random girl with the perfect house and the perfect clothes and the-
“(Y/N), do you want to come down to the beach with us?”
(Y/N) finally looks up from her novel in which she wasn’t even reading in the first place. Her mind was somewhere else, and her thoughts weren’t put in the context of the book.
“No. I’m not feeling well.”
JJ sighs, fixing his cap backwards and placing himself beside her. He looks over her lap, reading the first few lines of the book his sister’s reading and sighs.
“I never read, so I do not understand how this whole novel thing works. But I’m pretty sure reading about getting over a breakup won’t do you any good.”
(Y/N) rolls her eyes, snapping her book with a shut. The last thing she ever wants is for JJ to lecture her. She had enough bawling her eyes the past 2 weeks.
“What time are you supposed to go again? Go.”
She’s grateful, of course, for JJ. He was there for her the whole 2 weeks when she didn’t feel like eating or taking a shower or anything that involved getting out of the bed.
But she feels better now, her hair perfectly up in a hairdo and the red color of her cheeks returning.
She’s not sad anymore.
The feeling evolves into anger.
Of course, (Y/N).
You’re nothing but a pogue.
If there’s one thing Obx is famous for, that will be the annual bonfire. It’s an excuse for every teenager on the island to let loose and to free themselves after a year of studying.
For (Y/N), it’s just another party for Rafe to ignore her.
But she’s not coming down to the beach with him a few distance away, hell, she doesn’t even know if he’s coming.
“What the fuck! You told me you’re not coming,” JJ laughs, giving his sister a side hug. “You look good. You don’t look pale anymore.”
“I’m gonna be sick if you keep saying nice things to me,” (Y/N) rolls her eyes, though her insides are beaming. JJ has always been her number one supporter, and she loves her brother with all her heart.
“Just don’t go to the other side of the beach, okay? All your friends are here.”
And we’re back to him protecting her.
She gets it, really, but she doesn’t feel like a night full of JJ and his friends becoming some sort of bodyguards to her.
The last thing she ever wants is for Rafe to think she’s still weak.
“J, I know.”
He holds both of his hands up, “I’m just saying. I’m by the fire if you ever need me, okay?”
It’s funny how the boy who cried to her over his scraped knee is the same boy who’s trying his best to protect her. Growing up in a dysfunctional family, all (Y/N) and JJ has is each other.
(Y/N) walks to the music booth, getting so tired over the same artist being played over and over again. She doesn’t feel like listening to Drake all while trying to forget a certain brunette boy from the back of her head.
“Hey, can I get something different? Play the Euphoria soundtrack if you must. Anything other than the songs you’re playing.”
The DJ looks up to her and gives out the widest grin. (Y/N) tries to look away from the charming smile, but her eyes are glued to a pair of blue ones.
“Not a fan of Drake?”
“Nah.”
“Why? Trying to move on from an ex?”
She gulps, “No. Just have a good taste in music.”
The guy licks his teeth, “Touche. The name’s Nate.”
(Y/N) gives him a small grin, “Hm. Can we change the song now?”
Nate raises a brow because god; no one has ever disregard him.
There’s something about the girl.
“Is Party In The USA good enough for you, princess?”
Her breath hitches. The last time someone has ever called her princess was probably a few weeks ago.
This is not helping her to get over him.
“Whatever. You’re the DJ, right?” she answers, turning on her heels. “Oh wait, Nate?”
He smiles at her again, and (Y/N) has the urge to slap the smug look off his face.
“Don’t call me princess. You’re not my boyfriend.”
For the past 40 minutes, no Drake song has been playing. The crowd begins filling the empty space in the middle to dance with each other, and (Y/N) has to look away from the couple getting close and leaving kisses down each other’s necks.
She makes her way down to the drinks counter to get herself a beer because she really doesn’t feel like watching another friend of hers kissing their partners while sober. She decides that if she has to stay for another hour of people making out with each other, it’s better if she’s intoxicated.
“Hey.”
(Y/N) turns her back, expecting to see a drunk friend of hers, but the sight of the same DJ from before greets her.
She rolls her eyes, “I’m not asking you to change the music.”
“I know, I guess I started off wrong just now. Let me reintroduce myself. You deserve to know the real me.”
(Y/N) laughs, because this whole thing sounds like something out of a corny Netflix movie. He’s cute, sure, but she’s just not interested.
He removes the beanie he’s been wearing all night, revealing a blonde buzz cut underneath. (Y/N) tries not to stare.
Okay. Screw cute. He’s handsome.
“Hi, I’m Nate. I’m from New York, and I just moved here.”
She smiles, finally, because he fits the exact image she has of every male teenager in New York. Blonde buzz cut, an unbuttoned blue shirt with a peak of his toned body underneath, and a pair of red shorts.
A new kook.
“Nate, your kind and I don’t match. You’re a kook.”
He scrunches his face, “They’ve been telling me that shit since the first week I’ve been here-” he steps closer, and (Y/N) can smell his expensive cologne. It’s not the same one she favors on Rafe, but it’s close. “-don’t tell me you believe that stuff.”
Oh.
She grins, “I’m not rich, Nate.”
“So?”
Oh.
“The name’s (Y/N),” she smiles, extending her hand. Nate beams, because finally, after a whole night of watching her from his booth, she finally expresses the most beautiful smile there is.
“(Y/N), I feel like we’re going to get closer soon.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
“I’m not a Drake’s fan either.”
. . .
(Y/N)’s hesitant.
She doesn’t believe him in one bit, not even when he flashes her the most charming smile ever.
But he’s not afraid to show her off. She went on a date with him a few nights ago, and she distanced herself from him upon the entrance of the restaurant.
“What the fuck are you doing? C’mere.”
(Y/N) looked up to him, “You don’t have to stay near with me.”
Nate turned to her with a confused expression. “Why? I’m buying you dinner, remember?”
He held her hands in his, and she let him.
Nate pokes her side and suppresses a giggle when she yelps from the sudden touch. He fails, however, when she falls from his bed onto the floor.
“You’re too ticklish,” he says and helps her up to her feet. Her eyes wander to the band posters on his wall again, being so amazed and surprised by this boy’s taste in music and movies.
“I don’t even listen to half of the bands you listen to,” she says finally, pulling herself down to the empty space beside him. “Do you know who’s Ariana Grande?”
Nate rolls his eyes, “Ha-ha. No. I don’t. Is she the one who sang Despacito or something?”
(Y/N) laughs and her heart suddenly soars. She feels at ease, and there’s lightness in the air, even when they’re in public.
(Y/N) stands up, taking the full room into view again, and walks to the shelf full of pictures of Nate and his family. There’s a picture of him in a soccer jersey, a picture of him playing the drums and then an electric guitar, and-
“Oh my god, is this your girlfriend?” (Y/N) exclaims, picking up a photo frame with a beautiful brunette girl smiling back at her. “She’s so pretty.”
“(Y/N), put it back,” Nate rolls his eyes, standing up from the comfort of his bed and walking towards her. (Y/N) laughs, liking the way his eyebrows scrunch in distress and hides the photo frame behind her.
“(Y/N). . . I’m not playing.”
“No one is playing, Nate,” she laughs, taking a few steps back as he motions forward. “I can’t believe you have a sweetheart back in NYC, Nate.”
“(Y/N), put it back.”
(Y/N) pulls a confused expression, “Put what back?” she brings the frame forward, and expressed a fake sigh. “Oh, this? I was just checking this out-” Nate charges for her and she squeals, running towards the end of his room and watching as he runs in her direction. She panics, looking around for a place to hide, and as her eyes meet his bed, Nate has the same idea in his head.
He pushes her over his bed so she topples over, the frame still in her hands. She yelps, leaving the frame alone and using both of her hands to push his chest away.
Nate hovers over her, being so close he can smell her sweet scent now, and she looks so good under his yellow lights and in his bed and that goddamn smirk on her face-
“Is she your girlfriend, Nate?”
“None of your concern, princess,” he answers. Her eyes snap down to the cross dangling from his neck, and he can’t do this anymore; not when she looks so pretty under his gaze.
(Y/N) can feel the sudden change in the air now, and the chasing game they’ve been playing suddenly doesn’t look like a chasing game.
He’s like a predator waiting to attack.
(Y/N)’s eyes look up to him again. “Is she your girlfriend?”
And he connects his lips with her. She gasps from the sudden touch, but after a few seconds, he can feel her kissing him back.
And for once, she feels okay again. She wraps her arms around him, pulling him close to her and letting his warmth engulfing her.
She feels at peace.
“Rafe,” she whispers, letting the blonde boy trails down to her neck.
Nate pulls away, his lips sore and red after their brief makeout session.
Chest heaving, he steps away. “Rafe?”
(Y/N) sits up, groaning and fixing her hair. “God, I’m so stupid. I don’t mean that, Nate, I’m sorry. Please, don’t go.”
Nate pulls a disgusted face, and it’s the same look Rafe had put in the party a few weeks ago to her and she can feel herself losing again.
“I’m going out. You can stay here if you want.”
“Nate-”
The door closes behind him, and (Y/N) groans.
Way to go, (Y/N).
. . .
She hates how bad she feels for Nate.
He has been nothing but a total sweetheart to her, and there she was; moaning another guy’s name and letting him walked out of his own home.
So that’s the core reason as to why she’s standing outside of his house at 10 p.m. on a Friday, letting the heavy rain soaks her whole outfit because of course she would forget to bring an umbrella.
She knocks again, with her fists this time, because she’s certain he hadn’t heard her. For a moment, she’s afraid his father or mother would open the door but after remembering how they’re going to be away for a business trip, she sighs in relief.
The door opens midway of her banging on the door, revealing a shirtless Nate with nothing but green sweatpants complimenting his legs.
“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” he groans, tugging her arms in and closing the door after her. (Y/N) attacks him in a tight hug, slightly shivering from the cold rain outside, and after a few seconds, Nate hugs her back.
“You’re okay?”
“Can we talk in your room?”
“Uh, I don’t-”
(Y/N) doesn’t let him give any excuse and she pulls him into the living room, but before she can reach the space, he pulls her to a halt.
“Hey, we can’t go there, I’m kinda, um, doing something. What’s wrong?”
She sighs, “Nate, I’m so sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it when I called you someone else’s name and that’s the stupidest thing I ever did but please don’t go, okay? You’re all I have.”
Nate laughs, “God, you’re really worried about that? I get it, it’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.”
“It is, really. But tell me one thing, though-” he pulls her arms, and pins her against the wall. (Y/N) smiles, staring into his blue orbs. “Is this Rafe more handsome than me?”
“Hey man, we really can’t wait-” a voice starts from the direction of the living room, and before (Y/N) can move away, the voice rings again. “Ah. Of course.”
Oh my god.
She misses him too much. His hair is messier than ever, his eyes bloodshot and his nose red. (Y/N) wonders how many lines he did, but judging from the distant look in his eyes, she’s guessing a lot.
“Rafe,” she whispers, getting closer to the boy she missed and letting his smell engulf her.
“Rafe?” Nate quirks a brow because this isn’t making any sense. Why would she called his friend the name-
Of course.
Rafael is Rafe.
So this is the guy.
His childhood friend is ‘the Rafe’ of the girl he’s starting to fall for.
After so many hours of trying to find the Rafe she accidentally called him, he hadn’t thought of his own childhood friend to be the guy all along.
Growing up, he have been told to call him Rafael up until the day he moved to New York.
He can’t believe it.
“Rafe,” she calls again, this time following Rafe out to the living room. “Rafe, listen to me.”
“You moved on too fast.”
“I haven’t moved on, Rafe, fuck, I swear I haven’t,” she expresses. “Please. Listen to me.”
“You were mad at me for doing a line from some bitch’s back and you’re, you’re o-out here, under my own fucking friend’s arms and- did y’all fucked?”
“What?” she gasps, “God, Rafe, no. No. I will never fuck anyone other than you.”
“Yeah?” Rafe raises a brow and lets out a shrill laugh. “God, I don’t even know if I can trust you.”
“You can, Rafe,” she steps forward, trying to reach his face with her cold fingers. The anger she felt before suddenly dissipates into the thin air because god, she did not realize how much she has been missing this boy more than anything in the world.
Her everything.
Rafe flinches away, “Stop. Do you know how miserable I am the past few weeks without you?”
“Don’t turn this on me now, Rafe.” “And you’re out here with fucking Nate Hamilton. Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Rafe, it’s not like that,” Nate suddenly steps in, and (Y/N) gives him a warning look not to say anything more. He ignores her, “Are we not going to talk about how you disregard her just because of her status on this fucking island?”
“God, always with your equality shit,” Rafe groans. “You guys deserve each other. I can’t believe you will ever do this to me, Nate.”
What hurt Rafe more isn’t the fact that she was all pinned under his arms, but it was because Nate knew about their relationship. Rafe had told him everything about her ever since they first started dating, and he hadn’t just lost her tonight.
He lost his childhood friend too.
“I’m leaving,” he says, rubbing his nose and sniffing. Rafe isn’t sure how many lines he has done, but his mind is getting lighter and lighter and the lights are turning blurry.
He can’t stand being in the same room as them. He will fucking drive if he has to.
(Y/N) bites her lips, trying to stop herself from bursting into tears. So they know each other? Why won’t Rafe ever tell her about him? Is this still her fault? She wasn’t even cheating on him. They’re not together.
Right?
Are they together?
“Hey, you’re okay?”
(Y/N) pulls her hands away, stepping away from the blonde boy and walking towards the exit. She has to leave this house as soon as possible. The once comforting bright color of the wall seems so dull and suffocating now, and she longs for the familiar blue paint of Rafe’s room.
She wants Rafe.
No one else.
Just him.
“Just me?” Rafe smiled. “Hey, hey, I got a surprise for you.”
“Rafe, I hate surprises,” (Y/N) groaned, throwing her head back against the headrest. “You bought me a dress before!”
“Look-” he smiled, showing her a gold ring in a small velvet box. “It’s a ring.”
“Oh my god, it looks like yours!” (Y/N) exclaimed, clutching his hand with the ring and comparing the color.
“Of course it’s the same ring. You’re my wife, I’m not going to buy you a different kind.”
“Wife?”
“What? Am I not your husband?”
(Y/N) wishes for nothing but Rafe.
She presses on his contact again, turning her phone downside and moving the speaker nearer to her lips.
“Rafe, please call me back. I miss you, and we can fix this, okay? I didn’t know about Nate and I was so, so stupid. I can never replace you, Rafe. You’re mine, remember? Please. Call me back. I miss you.”
She sighs, setting her phone down on her lap and watches as the rain patters down her front windscreen heavily.
Love is a hell of a drug.
-
@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleeping @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @unfortunatekiwitrash @scottybitch @asimpwriter @amaya124 @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasause @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u @badbussylol @savannah-elliott @angelreyesgirl100 @haterpenny @beehappyyy @alwaysclassyeagle @maybankslut @kayleea122 @clearbolts @lovelyxtom @christianaevans @jemimah-b99 @opierdalacz @dangerdolns @wildflowerliv @classygirlything21 @pogueslandia @alwaysclassyeagle @rottenstyx @wxn-drlst
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smuts#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron one shot#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey imagines#drew starkey one shot#outerbanks#outerbanks x reader#outerbanks imagines#outerbanks one shot
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Hi I was wondering if you could do a Azriel x reader where they are cuddling and talking after a long day of work?
pairing: azriel x reader (acotar)
warnings: mental health/anxiety being mean, insecurity, asides from that it’s pure fluff and nice and lovey dovey
a/n: I love writing fluff omg, I went in a slightly different route that I intended with this one but I hope you like it :))))
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You pushed the heavy wooden door of your home open, dragging your legs in as you fought to keep your eyes open. You pushed the door closed with your back, leaning your head against it, and closing your eyes for a second, before sliding down, still leaning against the door, and wrestling to remove you shoes with a huff.
You heard a cough ahead of you and looked up to see Azriel fondly watching you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He was still in his leathers, so you presumed he had just beat you home, his tired eyes sparkling with humour as he watched you struggle with your boots. You didn’t say anything as you stood and padded over to him on heavy feet, wrapping your arms around his middle and squeezing your eyes shut.
You didn’t want to think of the long week you had dealt with, you just wanted to bury yourself under a mountain of pillows and blankets and maybe wrap your limbs around Azriel like a koala bear. He wrapped his arms around you, scarred hands rubbing up and down your back as the two of you stood together in silence, simply breathing in the other and allowing your souls to be reacquainted.
When you first met Azriel he had wandered into your shop on a whim, wanting to get Feyre some flowers to congratulate her on the pregnancy and he remembered Elain had mentioned this shop being one of her favourites. He had expected to be in and out, not in the mood for a long conversation, or any conversation for that matter. But as soon as he saw your pretty face, your flowy, dress that stopped just above your dirt covered knees, all his plans were thrown out the window.
“Can I help you?” you had asked, sweet-lipped, your voice sounding the way cherries tasted, sweet but with a deeper richness. A smooth tone that he could listen to for hours.
He ended up buying as many flowers as he could without seeming insane, not wanting you to ever stop speaking, wanting you to explain the meaning behind every flower in your store if it meant he got to stay with you.
You had noticed him as well of course. Who wouldn’t, he was beautiful and carried himself with so much grace and poise that you were sure he was a fallen angel. You had lengthened your descriptions of the flowers, face heating when you realised you were rambling and fighting a grin when he asked you to continue.
You had invited him to sit with you as you were brewing tea and he had accepted, sipping tentatively at the tea you told him you grew yourself, the greenhouse in your garden perfect for the needed flowers. The two of you had spoken for hours before he left, ignoring the confused looks from his friends when he came home with six separate bouquets of flowers. Instead deciding to picture your pretty face as he lay in bed that night, finally getting rest for the first time in weeks.
Now, you were wrapped up in his arms, still not speaking. He didn’t worry too much, he knew that sometimes you weren’t ready to speak, that some days you just needed some quiet to process your day and come back to yourself. When you had first explained the way you would drift from your own mind, feeling as if you were floating above your own body Azriel had almost cried, the realisation that maybe he wasn’t the only one in the world, that maybe there was someone for him after all.
He lifted you into his arms and carried you to the kitchen, carefully avoiding the plants littered around the house, before shifting you onto one hip like a baby, knowing you wouldn’t be letting go any time soon. He set about brewing your favourite tea, smiling as he picked up the pot that you had shared the fifth time he came to visit you.
The store had been closed but you had invited him, so he pushed in, cringing at himself when he realised how early he was but all his thoughts came to a halt when he heard that sweet voice of yours coming from your apartment above your shop.
“My lovers got humour, she's the giggle at a funeral, knows everybody's disapproval, I should've worshiped her sooner. If the Heavens ever did speak, she's the last true mouthpiece, every Sunday's getting more bleak a fresh poison each week- AH!” you screamed when you saw him standing in the doorway, pressing a hand to your heart as it slowed back to its regular beat. “Fuck you, oh my.”
He genuinely laughed then, not expecting to hear you swear. The girl who had green stained fingers and who fed stray cats, the girl who always decorated for every holiday and who apologised when she bumped into inanimate objects. Your face was hot to the touch and you wouldn’t look him in the eyes, so he had stopped laughing, moving to up your face, forcing you to look in his eyes.
“You have the prettiest voice I’ve ever heard.” He said sincerely but you scoffed,
“No I really don’t,” you laughed but he saw the insecurities then, “I know it’s whiny.” He frowned; your voice having been one of your most attractive traits in his eyes. He had started to see beneath your cracks then, but now with you wrapped around him he remembered how deep they went.
“Do you want to talk about it baby?” he asked carefully, not wanting to startle you, knowing how deep you could get in your head, tiny noises startling you when you were zoned out.
“Bad brain.” Was all you muttered, and he frowned but just kissed your forehead and continued making your tea. When he was done he carried both you and the tea through to your bedroom, setting the tea down before twisting you again and carrying you to the bathroom. He sat you on the side of the bath and wet a cloth, cleaning the makeup from your face, and moisturising your skin before picking you back up and taking you back to your room. You slowly changed into one of his shirts and some loose boxers before crawling under the duvet and reaching your hands out to Azriel who had changed into his pyjama bottoms.
He crawled in next to you, pulling you into his chest, his wings wrapping around the two of you and then his shadows settling over both of you, protecting you from the outside world.
“How was your week?” he asked, one hand coming up to play with your hair knowing how much it relaxed you and feeling his heart warm when he felt you smile against his neck.
“Bit shit,”
“How so?”
“Just rude customers, and this one guy wanted like two dozen flowers which I made up but then he couldn’t pay and trashed the bouquets I had made him. Plus all the noise made my anxiety play up,” you muttered, and he frowned, not liking how put out you sounded.
“Want me to kill him?” he asked, only half-joking.
“I think that’s a bit extreme,” you laughed into his shoulder.
“Lightly maim then?”
“Maybe just a scare, make him think his house is haunted or something,”
“That I can do.” He smiled, kissing you, happy to have you partially back to him.
“What about you, how was your week, I feel like I haven’t seen you at all.”
“I know, sorry. I’ve been doing some stuff for Rhys.”
“I’m presuming I’m not allowed to hear about it,” you said, well aware of how secretive his job was.
“It’s not a mission per say, I’m just babysitting.”
“Is it fun at least?” you asked, grinning at him cheekily and he scrunched up his face, thinking back over his week of baby sitting two horny Fae’s while he dreamt of being in your little apartment.
“Not the word I would use, they’re too horny for their own good.”
“The babies?!”
“No! NO! They’re not actually children!” he backtracked as you collapsed into a fit of giggles, Azriel joining you soon after. “You know I think they suspect something,” he said once you finally calmed down, “I think they’ve worked out I’m sneaking off.”
“Hmm, guess we have to kill them then.” You mused and Azriel grinned,
“Only reasonable course of action.”
“I mean we’d be fools not to,”
“Clearly.” He laughed, before tightening his grip, “seriously though, do you want to meet them?”
“I mean, yeah. I think it’d be nice,” he noticed your mood had shifted again and nudged you, imploring you to continue, “It’s just you’re all so accomplished and amazing, powerful people and I’m just… me.”
He tried to ignore the pain that stabbed into his heart at your self-deprecating words, having thought them about himself enough times to know how they felt. “Don’t say that, you’re an incredible person. And even if you weren’t the kindest, sweetest person I had ever met, you’re still the girl I love and honestly I think Cassian is one ex-girlfriend away from selling me to the highest bidder.”
You laughed and nuzzled in farther, “Kindest person you’ve ever met?”
“Well asides from the occasional death threats,”
“ah yes, ignoring that. Of course.” He laughed and kissed your forehead, eyes closing as he heard your voice get softer and your breath slower.
“I love you.” He whispered into your hair as you felt your eyelids droop, the weight of the week lifted off of your shoulders as you buried yourself in Azriel’s arms, peaceful in his embrace.
“I love you.”
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