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#til that her last name is glitter
bluerscarf · 1 year
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Susie’s new skin is so damn cute!!! thank you namie I owe you my life
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floralcyanide · 5 months
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⊱ 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝐺𝑜𝑙𝑑 ― 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤 ⊰
[ ᴀ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇs ᴀʟᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ]
1960s ᴜs ᴘʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴄᴀɴᴅɪᴅᴀᴛᴇ!ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜs sɴᴏᴡ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
― ᴏғғɪᴄɪᴀʟ sᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ !
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∿ sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ !
∿ sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ !
∿ ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ HERE ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ sᴘᴏᴛɪғʏ ᴘʟᴀʏʟɪsᴛ !
― 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘸 ⬎
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Fool’s Paradise - XYLØ 
❝Turn off the TV, your suit and tie and hair all wrong. I had a bad dream, your face was on a dollar bill.❞
Million Dollar Man - Lana Del Rey
❝I don't know how you convince them and get them, babe. ; You're screwed up and brilliant, look like a million dollar man.❞
All Shook Up - Avila 
❝Please don't ask me what's on my mind, I'm a little mixed up but I'm feelin' fine.❞
Touch - Daughter
❝Love, hunt me down. I can't stand to be so dead behind the eyes.❞
Everybody Wants to Rule the World - Lorde
❝There's a room where the light won't find you, holding hands while the walls come tumbling down. When they do, I'll be right behind you.❞
American - Lana Del Rey
❝You make me crazy, you make me wild.❞
Us Against the World - Coldplay
❝The Devil as he's talking with those angel's eyes. ; Through chaos as it swirls. It's us against the world.❞
America - XYLØ
❝Real life is make-believe, all that glitters isn't gold to me. ❞
Something - Elvis Presley
❝Somewhere in her smile, she knows. All I gotta do is think about her.❞
Candy Girl - Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons
❝I've been a-searchin' all this wide world, now finally I've found my candy girl.❞
National Anthem - Lana Del Rey
❝I'm your national anthem, God, you're so handsome. ; Red, white, blue is in the sky. Summer's in the air and baby, heaven's in your eyes.❞
Evergreen - BROODS
❝Since we found out that we're invincible, we've been living in a dream world. ; Only lost to be found, you're my hero now.❞
Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby - Cigarettes After Sex
❝Nothing's gonna hurt you baby, as long as you're with me you'll be just fine. ❞
December, 1963 (Oh, What A Night!) - Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons
❝Oh, what a night! Late December, back in '63. What a very special time for me. As I remember, what a night.❞
Chemtrails Over the Country Club - Lana Del Rey
❝You're in the wind, I'm in the water. Nobody's son, nobody's daughter, watching the chemtrails over the country club.❞
Gold - Echos
❝I've got intentions of gold with my plans.❞
Young God - Halsey
❝He says, "Ooh, baby girl, you know we're gonna be legends. I'm the king and you're the queen and we will stumble through heaven. ; But do you feel like a young god? You know the two of us are just young gods.❞
Can’t Take My Eyes Off You - Frankie Valli
❝Oh, pretty baby, now that I found you, stay. And let me love you, baby, let me love you.❞
Neptune - Sleeping At Last
❝I'm only honest when it rains. If I time it right, the thunder breaks when I open my mouth.❞
Meltdown - Stromae, Lorde, Pusha T, Q-Tip, HAIM
❝Who to trust? Who to love? Who to run from? Who to hug? Respect only comes from the money or your blood.❞
you should see me in a crown - Billie Eilish
❝Bite my tongue, bide my time. Wearing a warning sign. Wait 'til the world is mine.❞
Dead End Love - XYLØ
❝I'm still lost in the maze of your mind, I'm never getting out again.❞
Before the Fever - Grimes
❝This is the sound of the end of the world. Dance me to the end of the night, be my girl. ; They will kill us, oh, have no doubt. There are many ways in, but there's only one way out.❞
Golden - Harry Styles
❝You're so golden. I'm out of my head, and I know that you're scared because hearts get broken.❞
My Eyes Adored You - John Lloyd Young
❝Headed for city lights, climbed the ladder up to fortune and fame. I worked my fingers to the bone, made myself a name.❞
hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have – but I have it - Lana Del Rey
❝There's a new revolution, a loud evolution that I saw. ; Hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have, but I have it.❞
Eyes Open - Taylor Swift
❝Everybody's waiting for you to break down, everybody's watching to see the fallout. Even when you're sleeping, sleeping, keep your eyes open.❞
We Remain - Christina Aguilera
❝So, burn me with fire, drown me with rain. I’m gonna wake up screaming your name. ; Whatever happens here, we remain.❞
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buckleymess · 2 years
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Glitter - Robin Buckley
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Summary: Birthday sex with Robin. Follow-up to this small fic but you’ll be fine even without reading that one.
Warning: SMUT obviously
Words: 3,3k
Note: There are some errors in this one. I have not proofread it. It’s too late. I need sleep and needed to get this off my chest. Take it now or perhaps come back another day to see if it’s fixed. You do you.
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The hotel shower feels even smaller than what it seemed like from the outside and you can no longer blame her for opting to shower without you. You run your hands over your face as the water falls down on you. Robin brushes her teeth right behind the shower curtain and you can’t help but laugh a bit when the gargling noise she makes gets interrupted by choking.
“Are you alright?” You ask through the running water, tilting your head a bit to see her reflection in the mirror.
“Nearly drowned but I’ve never been better” Robin chirps right after and flashes you a toothy grin, showing off her pearls.
She hums out the melody of Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now while she waits for you to be done. “Fucking hell,” she suddenly exclaims, carefully checking herself in the mirror. “I’m never getting this thing off, am I? I could swear that I’ve tried to scrub it away but that shit just sticks to your skin like-... I still look as if a unicorn threw up on me or something.“
“That’s the price you pay for burying your chest in the cleavage of a person who goes by the name Glitter Jugs.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but when a 6’2, Amazonian goddess offers you a special type of hug. You do not say no. That would be just rude.”
“Stupid, too. I mean, you’ve seen her... that chest is going to follow me in my dreams ‘til the day I die. How did she make it look /that/ real is just behind me,” Robin rambles on while you chuckle.
“Follow you in your dreams, huh?” You repeat amusedly. “Good to know. Good to know.”
“Yeah. In my dreams,” Robin confirms simply. “In reality, all I need is about... this much.” She raises her hand for you to see it in the mirror. Her hands are curled up slightly as if she’s cupping an imaginary breast.
You just turn the water off when the same hand suddenly appears right next to you, searching for your chest.
A content ‘uh-huh’ leaves her mouth when she gets a good hold of you. “See. Fits right in. As long as I have my hands about this full, I am a happy woman,” she concludes. “How much longer are you going to take anyway? The TV in the bedroom is not working and waiting there just like that will be boring.”
You stop her from raising any further complains by pushing the curtain aside and coming face to face to with her again.
“Would you mind?”
Robin blinks at you a bit before her eyes go wide and reaches for your towel, passing it to you with a quiet apology. “Here you go, love.”
“I meant the hand on my boob, Rob.”
Almost as if she wants to make sure that her hand is /really/ there she gives it a little squeeze. A cheerful smile spreads on her face, and she nods her head. “Yeah, right.” She drops her hand down but she doesn’t turn her eyes away, simply watching you while you wrap the towel around your wet body. “I was just trying to prove my case.”
As you make your way out of the shower, she needs to step back a little until her back is pretty much pressed against the door.
Turns out she really wasn’t lying about the amount of glitter she had all around. The tiny silver pieces are still sparkling on her chest, neck and face. Some of them have fallen a bit lower to her shoulders and arms that were kept safe by her long sleeves earlier.
You can already tell that these are going to be a pain to deal with later, but it is still quite the sight for sore eyes.
She always is.
“I look like a fool, I know it.” She reads the silence and the lasting look the wrong way.
Shaking your head, you step forward to her, gently pulling on the bottom hem of her towel to get her closer to you. “Not even in the slightest, promise,” you hum out before kissing her. “This may as well be the thing that is going to follow /me/ in my dreams forever,” you giggle against her lips.
She locks her arms around your neck as she kisses you back and her body arches against you when you slip one hand under the towel. Your fingers now grazing the bare skin on her back.
“Luckily for you, I can get some glitter to brighten up your day any time. All you gotta do is ask.”
You grin at her and peck the tip of her nose. “I’ll keep that one in mind.” Letting go off her, you reach out to open the door, but Robin’s arms stay put. She just holds you, bright blue eyes examining your face up close as the two of you stumble back into the room, almost tripping over the doorstep.
Her laughter seems to fill the entire room, and you can’t help but join. The pain of your stubbed toe somehow disappearing when faced with her joyful expression. The morning is approaching and neither one of you has gotten any sleep in the last 24 hours, and yet she’s somehow beaming.
Step by step, you move further into the room together and after a couple of more steps you give in. Your arms wrap around her waist again and lets out a content sigh. “About time,” she comments, which prompts you to squeeze her a bit tighter before rocking her from side to side. Almost automatically, the playful rocking eases into a much gentler one and within the next couple of seconds you are pretty much just swaying on your feet.
As if there was not enough of dancing earlier tonight.
“Lookin’ in your eyes I see a paradise...,” you start out quietly, the corner of your mouth twitching a bit before she groans and throws her head back.
“Oh no, not this one. I can’t get it out of my head ever since we’ve left,” Robin complains dramatically.
“I figured that much, yeah,” you chuckle and then proceed to inform her that she had burnt the song into your brain as well when she was humming it out in the bathroom.
“I did not do that.” She argues resolutely but the longer you stare at each other, the more you see her confidence in that statement to break. “Whatever...,” she decides in the end, literally waving it away with one of her hands, only to start purring out the melody right after.
Getting do dance with her nice and proud in public was undoubtedly a fun experience, but private dances like these would always remain your favourite. No matter if they happened to the sound of music coming through the radio, or your girlfriend’s mouth.
Smiling faces just inches away from each other, curious soft hands holding, grazing and squeezing the other... Life really cannot get much better than this. You are sure of it.
At least until the moment when she turns around in your arms and pressed her back against yours. She leans back and kisses the corner of your mouth. “I’m so fucking lucky to have you.” Her voice is low when she says it and the words come out sounding raspier than they usually would.
You bow your head to kiss her neck. “I guess you really are,” you agree playfully, and she gasps, giving you a little nudge with her elbow.
“I feel pretty fucking happy to have you too, don’t you worry,” you mutter against her skin before you start kissing her again. Her skin feels so soft under your lips and your tongue. Your mouth leaves a small, glistening trail behind as you move your head to kiss other places, this time lower to her collarbone.
She leans into your body while your hands start to slowly slide down from her waist and over her lap to her thighs. You rub your thumbs over the hem of the towel for a while, just barely brushing against the bare skin that is below.
No one is dancing now. No one can be bothered by shifting their hips to the rhythm of a song that is no longer playing.
Finally, your hands dare to touch her under the towel slightly and Robin quickly drops her hands down to meet yours, encouraging you to venture even further up. You can hear her breathing turning heavier as you stroke her delicate inner-thighs under her guidance.
To your surprise, she starts to remove one of your hands from under the towel and begins to guide you all the way back up, this time even higher to her chest. You follow her wishes and squeeze her breast before you move your hand to the other. Her nipples are poking you through the fabric and you sigh into her skin.
While you glide your tongue over her neck, your fingers dig into the tissue of her thighs and her chest, and you can’t really stop your hips before they naturally push a bit forward.
Robin whimpers quietly and then grinds her back right against you. She flashes you a little smile when you glance up at her and your glances meet before her lips fall ever so slightly apart again.
She reaches her hand behind you; her fingers just barely brush over your towel before they fall down to your ass. There you can actually feel them as she grips on your asscheek and secures you in place, keeping you as close to her body as possible.
Out of nowhere, she drops the hand that was guiding you around her thighs too and instead pushes the towel up a bit. Just enough so that she can touch her clit. She moans right next to your ear and for a second you struggle to do much else than to just breath her intoxicating scent while your hips press against the other. Lightly, you run your hand up her thigh to replace hers.
“Fuck.” Her voice trembles as she speaks out, reacting to the pace that your fingers set on her.
Nipping at her skin, you make it up to her ear. The gentle kiss you place right below it doesn’t match the quick circles you are drawing on her clit, causing her to cry out. Your heart is racing in your chest, and you can feel that hers is the same way. Her breast rising heavily against your arm with every breath she takes.
Robin turns around in your arms slightly to be able to put her free hand to the back of your neck. She searches for your lips, eagerly kissing you in between the soft curses she lets out.  
Her eyes pierce you with a glare when you suddenly stop, and she whines when you drag your fingers down over her wet slits. Her core feels so warm as you stroke her, her wetness generously covering your fingers so that you can slide them inside her with ease. She tenses slightly against you when you push them in. The kiss she was just leaning in for again being completely forgotten the moment your thumb finds her clit again. She attempts to move her ass against your front for a while longer but as you curl your fingers inside her, she simply can’t.
The hotel room that was filled with laughs and quiet pop tunes just a little while is now full of the obscene wet noise caused by your fingers buried deep inside her, luring her to cum. She moans right in front of your face, her eyes half-closed in ecstasy and her freckled cheeks burning red.
A delighted cry slips past her lips as you feel her walls tighten around your fingers. Her body collapsing into yours due to her shaking feet.
“You know I can’t take this when I’m standing up,” she breathes out heavily once the strong sensation passes over, closing her eyes for a moment.
You kiss her lips softly, smiling. “Seems to me like you took it just right.” Robin flashes you a smile in return. When you pull your hand out, you can feel her juices spilling out. Her eyes widen as you step away from her for a bit, your hands guiding her to turn around to face you completely.
A little smile is playing on your face as you get down on your knees in front of her. You pull down the towel that was already just barely hanging around her body anyway. It lands on the chair nearby and you look up at her when you move your head closer her thighs. You peck the front a few times before you kiss your way to her inner thighs, your hands running over her ass and the back of her thighs.
When you drag your tongue over her skin, licking of the mess that’s running her thigh, Robin moans above you. She tangles her long fingers in your hair and gasps when you flick your tongue over her cunt before you move to the other leg. Once they are both clean with just the trace of your saliva glistening on them, you place you tongue nice and flat on her soaked core.
“Oh my...,” she starts out but doesn’t finish her sentence as a heavy sigh forces its way out at the feeling of you dragging your tongue all over her slits, lapping at the wonderful wet heat. You moan out happily against her when she pushes her hips forwards slightly. Her clit rubs against your nose, and you realise how soaked you are yourself when she starts to grind her hips against you. You don’t stop her or try to direct her movements at all, allowing her to use you the way she wants and needs.
It is her birthday after all. Though she is not the only one who’s receiving quite the gift. You taste her and feel her all over your mouth and your tongue, and from where you are kneeling between her legs, looking up at her you do have the best view anyone could ever imagine.
Her thrusts turn more vigorous and her whimpers more desperate, informing you that her climax is near. When it actually comes, you feel her thighs tighten under your fingertips and you keep working your tongue all throughout her high.
You barely get to clean up your chin when she’s pulling you back up onto your feet a moment later.
She cups your face, gently stroking your cheeks with her thumbs before she leans forward and kisses you. There’s no way that she cannot taste herself in your mouth when her tongue slips past your lips, passionately rubbing against yours. Robin lets go off your face and takes the towel off from around your body, simply letting it fall down onto the floor before she pushes into you so that you have to step back, ushering you towards the bed.
The last kiss she gives you before pulling away is a gentle peck. She pokes her fingers into your chest, reminding you to sit down. As soon as you do, Robin is already sitting on your lap. One of her hands sneaks in between your legs and she smirks when feeling how wet you’ve become for her. She gathers some of it on her fingers and then looks at you when she raises them up to her mouth to get a taste of you yourself. It feels like even just the sight of this makes you spill out some more.
“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s been having a pretty good time,” she muses after sucking those fingers clean.
You begin to open your mouth to say something, but she stops you by pressing the same fingers against your lips. She strokes your bottom lip and then flicks it a little before she makes you lie back.
Your whole body feels like it is on fire and the moment when she moves to hover above you, you do forget to breath for a second. The ceiling light is right above her, making it look as if she’s wearing a halo and all the glitter only emphasizes the look of a possibly ethereal being. For all you know, she might as well could be.
Robin kisses your chest slowly, savouring and nipping at every inch of skin that she can. Her hands run over your stomach and your side so lightly that it almost tickles.  
You feel silly for moaning out at someone so simple as that but after everything, even the feeling of her sucking on the sensitive skin near your nipple makes your head spin. When you look at her, one corner of her mouth is turned up into a smug smirk.
She licks her way to your other breast, gently pinching your skin when she gets to the centre. Some hair falls into her face and your quickly reach out to brush it away. She’s way too pretty to not be looked at. Especially when she circles her tongue around your nipple before taking it into her mouth, sucking on it hard and then pulling at it slightly with her teeth.
You run your hand over her back, nails digging into her skin when she sucks on your skin a bit too harsh. Not that you mind it. There’s nothing she could do right now that would leave you upset... You ache for her. Your heart is beating so loud that you can almost hear it in your ears.
Suddenly, without any type of warning, and just when you were expecting to suck on your breast again, Robin moves away. She moves lower and makes herself comfortable between your legs, peppering a bunch of kisses to your groin and your front. Some of the more innocent than the others. Now when she is so close, only inches away from where you need to feel her the most, the thrill seems almost unbearable.
“Please,” you speak out in a shaky voice, causing her to look up at you with a glint in her eye.
It is a good day though; she doesn’t tease you or make you beg. Instead, she dives right in. You gasp, your back lifting slightly off the mattress as her lips close around your clit. She sucks on it hard before releasing it and flicking her tongue over it just a few times. When she hums against your core, you can feel the vibrations almost all over your body. She licks over your lips, slowly dragging it over your pulsing heat before her tongue grazes your clit again.
“Oh, fuck,” you moan, and your hips involuntarily buck up into Robin’s mouth. The hands that were stroking over your thighs gently now get a proper grip on the flesh so that you cannot easily repeat the action again. If she wanted you to stay still though, she shouldn’t have allowed herself to groan into you the way she did. It only made you want to thrust against her more.
“Robin.” Her name doesn’t come out as anything more than a desperate whine. She doesn’t fully give in, but she gives you a bit more space to move all until the moment when your body freezes and you fall apart with her name and couple of curses on your lips.
When she looks up at you, her lips are glistening all because of you. The smile she sends you is so pure and angelic that it almost looks inappropriate given that she has your release all over her mouth and her chin.
She drops her head onto your thigh and keeps her eyes on you while you try to get your breathing in check again.
“You know that it’s not polite to cuss like that, right?” She comments playfully, referring back to the little hopeless outburst you had merely just a minute ago.
“Fuck off.”
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writingsfromhome · 1 year
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The Ex-Text
Prologue (the text)
A/N: warning that this fic does include cheating. I’m trying something new with this format, just a road trip story which is one of my favourite tropes everr. Plus a lot of drama. It was too short to split into parts but I liked the idea of some logues lol. Main should be out soon. Hope y’all like it too. <3
Prologue (text) / Main (ex) / Epilogue (what’s next)
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YN:
“He’s cheating on me,” I spit into the phone. My best friend gasps. “I saw him! He’s fucking cheating on me Taz what do I do? Do I confront him? Should I wait ‘til he gets home?”
“Where are you?” She asks.
I’m standing in front of the glass window to the bar that my boyfriend sits at. He’s facing a woman in black, with his hand on her knee, and a smile brightening his face. I blink, my focus going to the reflection in the glass. I look back at myself, dazed and heartbroken and disheveled.
“I’m-“ my voice cracks. I was not going to fucking cry here. I sniffle and move down the street to a parkette, a bench warmed by the sun invites me to sit down. “I’m at this patch of grass that’s a pathetic excuse for a park. Taz I don’t know what to do!”
“You don’t have to do anything right now. Where are you exactly? Let me come to you! Or come over. Don’t do anything rash-“
“I want to,” I sniffle. I wanted to, but all the energy had been drained from my body as soon as I sat down. “I was planning my future with this fucker. I…I thought he was going to propose soon! I caught him looking at rings the last time we were out remember? Do you…d’you think they were for her? Oh my god I’m such an idiot Ican’tbelieveIdidn’tseeit!”
It wasn’t British of me at all. At all. But I hang my head and sob. I couldn’t hold it in, my future crumbles before my eyes and all I can do is cry.
“Fuck’s sake,” I hear Taz say. “I’m coming to get you.”
I don’t remember much of what happened after that. How long I sat there until Taz found me—she’s tracked my phone. She called us a cab and taken me to her place where I crash on the couch for three days. Ethan had called and texted me, growing progressively worried. Until he showed up at Taz’s and her fiance had kept him out.
I always wanted to be one of those girls who was strong and tough, who could tell a guy who she’d been dating for nearly two years where he can shove it when he cheated on her.
Instead I was the girl who curled up even tighter when she heard his voice at the door. When he shouted her name over her best friend’s fiance’s body (that was built like a brick, I knew he wasn’t getting past).
I was the girl who snuck into the flat when I knew he was gone to work to get everything out with the help of friends.
It was two weeks before I could face him. He’d apologized, tried to give excuses but I was so numb by then I’d just let him ramble before giving an excuse about having to go and leaving him behind. I never quite got the closure I wanted but I was okay with stuffing it into the dark parts of my mind and never thinking about it again.
That is until 10 months later an invitation shows up in my inbox.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say at the notification. My colleague in the next cubicle turns his head and I duck down. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.
I click the email subject * Ethan and Van Make it Forever *
If you’re reading this, you mean a lot to us!
Join us on October 17 for a small (medium) celebration of love and commitment. No gifts, just your sexy selves.
Glitter rains down on loop over the invitation while dreamy clouds move on loops from side to side in the back. My own thoughts loop: is this a fucking joke?
“Y/N?”
“Yes?” I look up over the cubicle to where my name’s being called. My manager points to the room he’s in.
“We need minutes?”
“Oh…” I glance at my growing inbox. I didn’t actually have the time to lend a hand but I didn’t know how to say no. “Be there in a minute.”
My colleague beside me glances over and shakes his head. I shrug my shoulders and take my laptop in to spend the next hour in excruciating pain as I take pointless notes on a meeting I have no clue about. By the end of it my fingers are cramping and my inbox had doubled.
I had forwarded the email to my best friend by then and when I get back to my desk, collapsed in my seat, I read all of her 13 texts. They weren’t family friendly and they definitely make me feel better. I wasn’t crazy. My ex who cheated on me had invited me to his wedding.
My phone vibrates, Taz. But instead it’s a number I’d only ever gotten bad news from. One-time bad news I’d dubbed the ex-text. I open it:
Did you get the invite too?
•••••
Harry:
The invitation wakes me up, and I untangle myself from the warm body beside me to get my phone. Apparently I’d missed a phone call too.
I open the email and can’t help the laugh that comes out. Obviously nothing is funny, it’s unbelievable.
“Hm?” The woman beside me stirs, but my eyes are glued to the invitation. What a bitch, I can’t believe she had the audacity to invite me to her wedding!
I remember it so vividly, my girlfriend of years telling me she wasn’t in love with me anymore. That she met someone new. I’d asked how long, I had to ask again before she told me. Since the spring. So I had been walking around and living my life for over three months thinking my girlfriend loved me, that we were soulmates and all the other bullshit.
I couldn’t be depressed, I lived that next month with a drink attached to my lips at any given moment. It ruined me. It ruined my whole life. And then I got angry, that was when the drunk phone calls and late night messages began. I found out the person who replaced me. I stalked him on the internet and when I found out he had a girlfriend, it was my lucky day.
I’d texted my ex then, hoping this piece of news would be the end of that relationship. She’d come crawling back to me. Instead she had said, I know. He’s breaking up with her he just needs some time. Harry nothing’s changed, we’re not going to get back together.
I put on my detective hat, somehow through some intense stalking and help from a friend I’d gotten this stranger’s number. Then I’d texted her the screenshot, the photos on my ex’s private page of her and him. I was dropping a bomb on this random stranger but she needed to know. That’s how I justified it.
It was over a year since this all came about and everyone in my life expected me to be over it. Including my ex. I text her, hoping her number was still the same.
Are you really inviting me to your wedding with him?
She responds immediately, I thought we were at a place where I could. That you could be happy for me? It’s been so long.
She was delusional. How could I ever be happy for me after she left me like that, blindsided and broken hearted. The only conversations between us since then were when she wished me happy birthday. We never spoke.
Did he invite the girl he left behind too? I go with snarky, my favourite tone.
No ofc not. But are you coming? You can bring a + one.
I’ll see
Hope to see you there. xx
She really was delusional. A part of me wanted to show up, prove to her or me or the universe I could get on with my life. But I also didn’t want to be in this alone. I put my skills to work and an hour or so later, after the girl I woke up with had gone home and I put my empty coffee mug in the sink I text her. The stranger whose life I had imploded.
Did you get the invite too?
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wheels-of-despair · 6 months
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Enough | A Make Up Story | Tom Grant x You | Series Masterlist
Chapter 1: Mercifully Blurred Words: 2.5k
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You met Jade at a Halloween party you didn't want to go to about five years ago.
You'd been awkwardly leaning against a wall, promptly ditched by the flatmate who'd dragged you there the second she spotted someone cooler to talk to. You were contemplating walking home, which was in the next town over, when you spotted her.
When she walked by, the loud and booze-soaked party-goers that had been grating on your nerves became a dull roar. She was dressed as a fairy; just a pair of wings that probably once matched a children's costume, and a dress that made her look like she was floating. There was glitter in her hair, on her face, on her chest. Every piece looked like it had been expertly placed; she shimmered like a work of art. She smiled at you, and you felt your heart stop. And then the crowd closed in around her and blocked her from view, and the environment became loud and unbearable once more.
She was the most beautiful person you'd ever laid eyes on.
Despite your initial plan to never leave the house again after this awful party, you began to voluntarily accompany your flatmate to other events, hoping to catch another glimpse of her. You didn't even know her name. You were afraid to start asking about her… because what if she wasn't real? Or worse, what if she was? What if this breathtaking being was real? You'd certainly never stand a chance with someone like that.
About a month later, you spotted her again, inside a smoky club with flashing lights and terrible music. She was wearing combat boots, ripped tights, a denim skirt, and a Sex Pistols shirt she must've modified herself to hang just right. You'd never be able to get away with wearing an outfit like that. But no matter what this divine being wore, you were sure it would always look perfect. How could it not?
You forgot how to breathe when she looked at you. When she came over and began talking to you, leaning in close to shout over the noise of the club, you couldn't remember how to speak. You briefly wondered if you'd died and were just too transfixed by her presence to let your spirit leave your lifeless body behind. What if you were bound for a place she wasn't?
Your body and soul were rendered utterly useless by the ethereal being you later learned was named Jade Jones.
You're still not entirely sure how it happened, but she invited you back to her place one night a few weeks later, after a house party thrown by an acquaintance of your flatmate. You didn't even do anything but talk that first night; propped up on your elbows in her bed 'til sunrise. Just being near her was a bewitching experience. When you were with Jade, it felt like you were existing on another planet. Another plane of existence. The rules of Earth no longer applied. It was Jade's World, and you were happy to be a part of it.
But like all good things, it did not last.
She made friends everywhere she went, because she was vibrant and fun and irresistible, and you saw less and less of her as new people filtered in and out of her life. And then, one day… she was gone.
But she always came back. Because she knew you'd make time for her.
We can't help who we love.
She'd come stay with you for a week or two at a time, and then, as soon as you fell into a routine and thought she might stick around this time, she'd just… fade away. You knew it wasn't ideal. But when Jade was with you, you didn't care about how much it hurt when she'd leave again. You learned to treasure every minute with her, whether it was something simple like making breakfast or a having wild adventure in a place you'd never been to before.
Because she was Jade, the most stunning and addictive person you'd ever met. And for those few precious weeks out of the year, she was yours, and you'd do anything for her. You went strange places and met stranger people, you learned your limits so you could still have half a mind to take care of her when she got too drunk to care. You even dressed differently when Jade was around. You knew you were different under her spell, but it never felt like a bad thing… until she was gone, and you had to be you again.
And then you had to face the consequences. All the work you'd let pile up. All the people in your life you'd pissed off by dropping everything for her again.
When she called and told you she was moving to Cornwall to care for her ailing grandmother, you were almost relieved. Maybe if it weren't so easy for her to drop in on a whim and throw your life into chaos, you could be normal. You could stop pining for her, stop wondering why she wouldn't stay with you, why you weren't enough to keep her interested. You might even meet someone who wanted to keep you, and find a better job, and do something with your life instead of just watching the calendar and wondering when Hurricane Jade might blow in again.
One night that spring, months after her departure, you received a teary phone call during a moderately successful second date with an accountant. Her Nan had left her. She was all alone. She needed you.
You dropped everything to go to her, to the surprise of no one. You left your boss a voicemail explaining that you had to tend to a "family emergency", threw a bag full of clothes in your car, and headed south. You drove through the night and arrived at Sleepy Sunrise Holiday Park as the sun rose.
You stayed for nearly two weeks. You did the grocery shopping, you cooked, you put Jade to bed every night when she drank herself to tears, you greeted her every morning with a tall Virgin Mary and a pair of aspirin to fight her hangover. You went with her to pick up her grandmother's ashes, you helped her sort through her things, and you drove the donation boxes to a charity shop an hour away, knowing that Jade would lose it if she ever saw those things again.
She was a wreck, but your devotion never wavered. Not for a second. You would've done anything for her. You would've abandoned everything you knew to stay here with her forever. All she had to do was ask.
But she didn't.
On the ninth day, she finally asked when you needed to get back to work. You gave a noncommittal shrug as your heart shattered for what felt like the hundredth time.
Your job as an office aide wasn't exactly thrilling; you were half-expecting to come back to no job at all. You'd understand. You split with no warning, and hadn't given a return date or bothered to help anyone take over your duties. You'd been unreachable for over a week; a blessing, really, because surely you'd have a full inbox when your phone finally came into contact with a cell tower again.
If she had asked you to stay, you would've tossed your phone into the sea and never looked back.
But she didn't.
You picked up on little hints here and there. "Oh, I can do those," she said about the dishes she hadn't touched since you'd arrived. "I should get back to work soon," she said after introducing you to her coworkers at a bonfire. "I better learn how to cook for one," she joked when you placed a bowl of her favorite pasta in front of her.
You decided that you'd leave on day eleven. Just shy of two weeks. Still hoping that she'd ask you to stay.
But she didn't.
So you went home. You stood there in the office and let your boss scream at you for twenty minutes, then went to cry in the bathroom for as long as you dared. You stood in your tiny kitchen and waited for your flatmate to finish screeching about how she wanted interest for covering your part of the rent that was due three days ago. Despite the fact that you'd never done anything beyond a passive-aggressive "rent was due yesterday" post-it on the fridge door when it slipped her mind and you had to cover it.
You called Jade a few times to see how she was doing, but she always seemed distracted. "It's our busy season," she explained. You wanted to believe that she was tired of work and not tired of you, but you couldn't quite convince yourself. The calls got further and further apart, until you eventually gave up. Your life returned to normal.
And then, that fall, she called you again.
"We're winding down for the season, and I'd love to see you again. Would you want to come down and spend some time with me at the end of the month? I've missed you so much, dove."
You were glad she couldn't see the tears streaming down your face.
You managed to secure a week off - and train a temp, send in your rent payment early just in case you extended your stay, and take care of the load of other tiny things that had piled up last time. The plan was to leave home Saturday morning and arrive at Jade's in the early afternoon.
But someone set off a fire alarm in your office building, and every floor had to be checked before they allowed anyone back in. Rather than wait in the parking lot for several hours on a Friday afternoon, you were sent home.
You were so excited, you'd done most of your packing three days ago. All you had to do was throw your bags in the car and go. You turned up your music - a mix CD she'd given you years ago - and happily abandoned your normal life for another week with Hurricane Jade.
You stopped by a supermarket when you got close, and picked up a few of her favorites. She was terrible about shopping for food, and wasn't much of a cook, but you didn't mind assuming kitchen duties at all. You'd shower Jade in whatever kind of love she let you give; even if it's just making sure she's fed.
You felt the excitement begin to bubble over as you entered the caravan park. You carefully navigated the dark and tiny trail leading to Jade's place, and had to remind yourself to turn off your car before running to her. You knocked on the door… but she didn't answer. It was locked. The lights were on, so you reached for her poorly hidden spare key and let yourself in, thinking maybe she'd passed out again. But she wasn't there.
Before your brain could compile a list of reasons why Jade might have changed her mind about asking you to visit, you heard a faint thumping coming from outside. You followed the sound out the door and to the hill overlooking the sea, spotting a glow in the distance. A bonfire on the beach. It's the end of the tourist season, and the employees and residents are probably celebrating. That's all. No crisis here.
You locked Jade's front door and your car and followed the sound through the dunes. It was indeed a bonfire; loads of people, loud music, even fireworks. You climbed up for a better vantage point, scanning the dancing crowd for someone who looked like an ethereal being from another realm.
And then you found her.
Attached to someone with long red hair.
At the mouth.
You stood there and watched them kissing for longer than you care to admit. You knew she was probably seeing other people while you were apart, but tonight? Just hours before she was expecting you?
When they began undressing each other, your tears mercifully blurred them from your vision. You turned around and went back the way you came, leaving your shattered heart littering the sandy dunes.
Tears were still streaming down your face when you put your car in reverse, backed away from everything Jade owned, and navigated your way out of the labyrinth of cheap caravans. When you finally reached the park's exit, you stopped for a second to collect yourself. This is it. Once you leave this place, this is it. You're not doing this anymore. For once, you're leaving her behind.
You pulled onto the road with a sob.
You attempted to blink the stinging tears away as they came, willing your eyes to focus on the dark and winding road leading you back home. You don't belong here. You don't belong with her. This was never going to have a happy ending. You've known it all along.
But knowing didn't make this any easier.
You reached up to rub your eye when you saw a figure in the middle of the road. You yelped and swerved and slammed on your brakes, and you avoided hitting the body… but not the ditch.
BANG.
You sat there after the crash and shook for a moment, hands painfully gripping the steering wheel. You have to get out and make sure the person is alright, the sensible part of your brain informed you. You took a deep breath and reached for the door handle.
"HEY!" A hand slammed angrily on your window. If it had been open, they would've hit you in the face.
And then the adrenaline hit, and you were in a rage.
You ripped the door open and jumped out, ready to fight.
"YOU NEARLY RAN ME OVER!"
"YOU WERE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING ROAD, JACKASS!"
"YEAH, well…" You can hear the man deflate. "I guess you're right." You can barely see him, but you know that voice. What was that guy's name? The curly-haired one you met last spring. Jade said was only hired because no one else could get along with the owner's surly son. Kai. Kai's the one who spent the whole bonfire leering at the two of you. That makes this guy… Jim? Tim?
"Tom?"
"Yeah?"
"It's me. Uh, Jade's friend. We met last spring."
He chuckles darkly. How can a person make laughter sound so miserable?
"What are you doing out here, alone in the dark?" you ask.
"Same thing you are, I 'spose. Trying to get away from them."
"What do you mean?" you ask.
"Had a nice reunion with Jade, did ya?"
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chibitantei · 2 months
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@gentlemanthiief sent:
Today, the gift is waiting in her mailbox at home. An inconspicuous box, addressed to her by name. There's no one listed on the return, just a lipstick kiss over the space where it should be written. A signature enough, he was sure.
Inside, she would find another red envelope of course. The note inside reads:
Through darkest nights shine brightest stars; and bear our truths with teeth and claws. Let him remind you of your strength of heart, the valor, the power that sets you apart. Break the despair from within your chains, And devour injustice til naught remains.
Beneath the envelope, carefully laid in a bed of woad blue and glittering black tissue, was a small statuette of a wolf.
Not just any wolf, of course. A carved obsidian Fenrir sits at attention, gemstones inlaid for his ice blue eyes. The trinket could fit just about anywhere, and engraved into the pedestal, the dates she awakened and evolved her Personas.
Akira is extremely extra | Part 2
One instance could be left as a coincidence. It took a few more occurrences before coincidences could firmly become patterns, but in the case of the second gift in her mailbox, it only took two. A mysterious package with a single clue in the shape of a lipstick kiss. Further inspection wasn’t necessary for her to ascertain whether it was real or not.
Another card in the box, and another for her growing collection. There was a rumble of thunder somewhere deep within her heart when she laid her eyes on the gift. Then a faint jolt of electricity, like months ago when Fenrir finally broke free from his chains. That wasn’t all. A few dates engraved on the pedestal, seemingly random, but only a select few individuals would know its true significance.
If she had thought last week’s flowers carried a touch of dramatic flair, this week had blown it out of the water. The only thing she could do was sigh, exasperation and fondness combined together. If he were here, a knowing wink and a compliment, as all gentleman thieves were known to do.
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“Such an incorrigible nuisance...”
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ask-gale · 6 months
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*lightening cracks the sky* YOU DARE TRY TO DECEIVE ME!? It is all OGRE for you.
I hearby curse you, Gale of Waterdeep. May this child of yours be a handful to raise. May she be the reason you cannot sleep due to her screeches. May she be the reason you must have eyes everywhere. May she have toys that cause noise, insufferable noise, that shall haunt you til your last breath. May she possess glitter and ruin all your belongings with arts and crafts. May you spend several years of her childhood, eating her inventions to make sure she doesn't cry because you wouldn't eat her famous mud pie. May she break your heart by growing too quickly. May you tear up at the sight of her getting married, in which you must give her away to her beloved partner...
All this and more, Gale of Waterdeep...I curse you with the worst of the worst.
This is your final mistake, Gale... a mistake you shall regret...
This curse will last til the end of time! No power on earth can change it!
"And I will love her with all my heart through all of it. No matter how terrible you curse her to be, she'll always be my beloved little girl that I'd do anything for. I'll face all those hardships with a smile on my face and love in my heart. No curse of yours is stronger than my desire to let this child grow up happy. And if these hardships are the price for not giving her an absolutely terrible, horrific name? Then so be it."
He says it with absolute conviction, ready to face whatever may come.
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ferinehuntress · 1 month
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💧 DROPLET , ❤️ RED HEART, 💀 SKULL — how has [Ketheric Thorm]'s death influenced your outlook on life, if anything? ((for dame aylin :y
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◈  ⇢  @necrophcge  ⋯  DEVELOPMENT QUESTIONS 💧 DROPLET — are you grieving something or someone? do you feel like you lost something or a part of yourself with it/them? / ❤️ RED HEART — what is/are your love language(s)? how do you use it/them to communicate your feelings about others? / 💀 SKULL — how has [name of person] 's death influenced your outlook on life, if anything?
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Even as the dead king lays in ash and blood, his name continues to haunt her mind and many questioned her of him. Her fingers curled as she growled, a wolfish action that she did not care to hide. "Why must you wrought my mind so with the cursed man's name?" Aylin demanded the nameless one as she turned her head away from him and threw her wings outward, stretching them far and wide as they shimmered in the sun's rays. Those wings flittered once and then folded against her back. "He did not influence my outlook on life, any more than Mykrul has. I still believe in the good of people, and that most are searching for a path to live their life. Men like him should have no bearing or influence over the minds of others. All he caused me was a bitter hatred til I saw him dead. He deserves no more words from my mouth than what I spoke to him the day I killed him. He is a traitor, a betrayal, and the likes of the world she has never seen," Aylin snapped her lips in fevor rage before taking a breath.
"Enough of him," She demanded and waved her hands. Instead, she turned her thoughts to the next question, yet still more somber than the last. Her icy blue eyes turned to look at her hand, flexing the massive palm to see the rippled scars upon it, tracing up her arm. Cracked and glittering underneath the sun, a reminder of all the torture the Sharrans and Shar herself had wrecked upon her. "I...I do not know, how to speak of such thoughts," Aylin whispered, her voice sounding less angelic and more down to earth. She struggled, her brows pressed downward as she brushed her palm against her chest, tugging out her shirt, and shook her head. "Something is... amiss. Shattered glass where once solid stone stood. I feel it, at night. Tossing, turning, wrought in a battle of nightmares and terrors. Only when I wake up, does the loss torment me worse. Something... something is gone, and I don't know what it is, nor where it has gone. All I know, is I wake up crying, the breath gone from my lips as I mourn what used to be. I grieve myself, mortal. I grieve for what I used to be, and wonder if I shall ever be whole again. My dear Isobel provides me the strength I need, but even I find it difficult when those horrors haunt the edges of the mind,"
Aylin faded from her speech, for now, no longer talking. Her eyes stared into the distance as if piercing through the clouds and sky and looking into nothing but emptiness. Despite standing there, she didn't know what she was staring at, as if the world continued to move and yet she wasn't there. Briefly, it felt dreamlike as Aylin shook her head, trying to ground herself again. Isobel would always rub her wrist to her palm and so she reached down and started to press her thumb against her wrist, pushing upward to the center of her hand. Her mind silently listed things she saw around her before blinking and returning to reality.
"Tis the third question, that, I can answer," Aylin grinned as she gave a flap of her wings. "My moon lily, my lovely Isobel, I love to sing songs and speak with such poetic rhymes to her. Such words of affirmation, sweetly speaking with delightful memories of words I once read. Yet she is my living poem, my beautiful book open for me to read over and over. So perfect, tis she. But, I also love quality time. One of the first nights with my dear love was in the middle of a rose garden. Not only did we speak poems to each other, but she showed me all the night flowers that blossomed in the rays of the moon. It was such a beautiful time, and at times we would walk silently, and yet, I could not be more enamored by her time. tis hard, to claim one love language, when I like to grace my love with all of them. I will shower her with gifts, kiss her hand, help her dress, and aid her in any way possible. My heart yearns to always offer her what she needs," She finished off the questions with the last one, one that held my love in her heart then the heavy topics from the first ones. She hoped it satisfied the mortal, though she was more than willing to talk about the light of her life even more if they gave her a chance to.
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mirainawen · 9 months
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cut me open bleed me dry i cried out a storm but it only left me hollowed, hurricane hallowed was the breath that left me but i am emptied
oh sink, and sink deep, beneath the waves, it's quiet peace was a far-flung notion when i reached for the dove all i felt was thorns
oh this ocean cut me open i bled this ocean into the depths i sink it's quiet at last at last
the tempests above stirred by furious hands i was beaten and bruised by unkind hands see these heaving sides these bruises are mine but i never put them there
my mind is a minefield everywhere i step is dangerous i'm crippled from these hits broken open and split these delicate seams just what they seem sutures from the ones who cut me open in the first place no wonder they scarred over no wonder they're gangrenous their hands were dirty dirty dirty
wash me in the tide flowing crimson from my side i'll laugh 'til the blood on my tongue silences me it's filling up my lungs with every oxygenated expiation takes me closer to the expiration i am sinking beneath the tidal waves pouring from my heaving sides oh inside it's quiet
i haven't spoken because there's nothing to say nothing that would encapsulate the facts these horrors are a beloved father turned monster the only kind of father i have ever known the hands on my heart are cold as the deathly grip of my mother's adoration so selfishly given she loves the way it gave her attention
let me sink and let me disappear i long to pick up delicate roots too fresh to survive and disappear into the nights where they cannot follow never to be seen, never to be heard befitting end of all the means they just "never mean"
oh these brothers of mine they are fallen soldiers found absent at their posts they like to burn them and call them crosses like all the witches were just too high stakes to take the risk to be found standing sentry as they'd been charged left a scar on my heart but it's worthless anyway i never wanted it
oh these sisters of mine they will wake one day to find i have left this condemned house i am too far gone to hear their regrets when it never softened their tongues their fists buried into the soft animal of my side i was put in a position i was not born to be in i am not the bad guy just because you cannot forgive it
oh these people, called them family for too long it was a lying shame that sewed itself up within my name i could change it if there was anything anyone could call me by that i might love but nothing seems fitting call me figment, call me wrath call me mere, call me wraith i am a delicate silhouette of a person cut two-dimensional, paper-thin i am the hollow inside these young growth trees i am not as young as i may seem cause i was forced into a cemetery i was never meant to be
interred was my mind injured was the soul left out to expire like broken sheer cliffside faces shaken loose in the landslides all the things that cannot last even in the things that never seem to change
call me cold, call me unforgiving, oh my mother's called me the worst things but bitterwood is an invaluable thing when left valued and gemstones are passing things i glitter like diamond fractions broken fractured among the charcoal dust i shatter but only in all the ways that matter
i am merely that
-bitterwood, k.m.i.
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My diary entry from June 23, 2020 (folklore's release)
I go back and reread this entry so often and I think its kinda funny, so I'm sharing it. It's basically a stream of conciousness through watching the cardigan mv premiere and listening to the album for the first time.
July 23/20 TAYLOR ANNOUNCED SHE HAS A NEW ALBUM folklore IS COMING. AT MIDNIGHT! TONIGHT (yes i did write folklore in lowercase cursive while everything else was handwritten caps- also incorrect grammar from excitement)
It's out at midnight easter so 10pm for me- which is in fifteen minutes! Mom woke me up at like 6:45am to tell me to look at Taylor's instagram. I bit the bullet and ordered from her store- braving the international shipping costs. I got the new cardigan- which was made for me basically, and the "in the weeds" cover of the album (they didn't come in until September btw)
THIRTEEN minutes now. She's releasing the music video for cardigan too, so I'm gonna watch it first and then listen to the album. Ok. I'm going to write my stream of consciousness while watching the video and listening to the album. Just finishing this episode of Glee and waiting... LESS THAN A MINUTE! THE STUPID FUCKING YOUTUBE PREMIERE COUNTDOWN I HATE IT HERE!!! Still not up on iTunes, LESS THAN A MINUTE FOR REAL. WILL START ON THE NEXT PAGE. i'm writing like a kindergartener.
10...
Old piano keys. pretty. SAFE AND SOUND VIBeS: ANTIQUES. GLITTER! CLIMBING IN THE PIANO! FOREST! MOSS! MOSS PIANO! THE WATER! PIANO IS A CENTRAL THEME PIECE! The piano says folklore! Back in the antique cottage. THE CARDIGAN I ORDERED! Beautiful MV. Reminds me of OOTW. Barely paid attention to the lyrics. It's still not on iTunes??? Checking spotify now. 1:03 run time for the album. HERE WE GO! wait she posted the foreword.
THE 1: simple piano chords, SOFT! "SHIT!" vibing with it. roaring 20s. "it would have been you..." "if you would've been the 1" this is hitting hard. reminding me of [redacted] she's putting my previous entries into words. digging up the grave another time.
CARDIGAN: vintage tea? "when you are young they assume you know nothing" heartbeat on the high line once in twenty life times. Peter losing Wendy. a tattooed kiss. I knew i'd curse you for the longest time. Standing in my front porch light. you'd come back to me...
THE LAST GREAT AMERICAN DYNASTY (EXPLICIT!): trains. St. Louis. Only so far new money goes. Kennedys? She had a marvelous time ruining everything. Rhode Island. BITCH! TIWWCHNT champagne sea vibes/reference. midnight sea. Her Rhode Island house? The last woman who lived there? EXILE: he's singing first. I think I've seen this film before. Reminding me of the last time. I'm not your problem anymore so who am I offending now? There's no amount of crying I can do for you. Never learned to read your mind. I gave so many signs. 10/10 vocals and harmony
MY TEARS RICOCHET: TRACK FIVE! first an ad... INTHAF oohs/choir feeling. if i'm on fire you'll be made of ashes too. I swear I'd love you til my dying day. cursing my name. is she dead? AS YOU BURY ME. I didn't have it in myself to go with grace. hauntingly beautiful. you had to kill me but it killed you just the same. was she murdered? what?!
MIRRORBALL: my dear... on my tallest tiptoes in my highest heels, shining just for you. the mirror ball, i can change everything. love the instrumentals. the end is near, but i'm still on my tallest tiptoes. i'm still on that tight rope. I'm still a believer but I don't know why. TRYING. keep you looking at me. I'm a mirror ball
SEVEN (track seven too): picture me in the trees. are there still beautiful things? Love to the moon and Saturn. Strings! I think your house is haunted. I still got love for you.
AUGUST (track 8- 8th month): whispers of are you sure. lost in the memory. twisting the bedsheets hm? wanting was enough. cancelled plans in case you'd call. summer love. 'cause you were never mine. for the hope of it all. BRIDGE REPETITION. more strings! sad but beautiful. this album feels like a summer day in a field.
THIS IS ME TRYING: guitar yes soft. stop! like AYHTDWS stay! and it dies a million little times. him! high! a drug that only worked the first few hundred times. look at this godforsaken mess that you made me- BRIDGE! idiotic fool, v country sounding
INVISIBLE STRING: plucky strings. centennial park. green. teal. first trip to L.A. lunch down by the lakes. cutting me up and healing me fine. mistakes in barbed wire. single thread of gold tied me to you. hell was the journey but it brought me heaven.
MAD WOMAN (EXPLICIT): yes more piano! they strike to kill and you know i will. FUCK! SHE SAID THE FUCK WORD! no one likes a mad woman, you made her like that. taking my time cuz you took everything. Babe different POV?
EPIPHANY: another fucking ad... dreamy, choral sounding. VOCALS! he's bleeding out? someone's daughter someone's mother. DYING? rip. sad. not dreamy anymore/ beautiful song.
BETTY (explicit, almost 5 min): v country, harmonica, Mary's Song-ish. FUCK! AGAIN! singing about the mad woman? FUCK! giving me unreleased/debut vibes. his name is James? SO nostalgic feeling/sounding. I can see her curls and cowboy boots and fake accent. in her cardigan! possibly my fave so far.
PEACE (explicit): just around the corner darling, cause it lives in me, no i could never give you peace. v visual/descriptive scene. would that be enough? SHIT! CLOWNS TO THE WEST! me.
HOAX (last track, don't have the lakes yet): one last fucking ad... my only one, my smoking gun. ECLIPSE TS6. give me a reason, on a cliff side?? ash from your fire. faithless love? left a part of me back in New York. my only 1. you have beaten my heart.
I LOVED IT! THE STORY TELLING! STRIPPED DOWN! REMINDS ME OF DEBUT AND SPEAK NOW. WILL LISTEN 1000000000 MORE TIMES
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"I Want to Love You."
Draco Malfoy x Reader
Day 12 of the 12 Days til Christmas Special!!!
Masterlist
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(Gif not mine)
Requested? No
Summary: (Y/n) gets more than she bargained for when her parents force her to attend a Christmas Party at Malfoy Manor…
(arranged marriage)
Warnings: Starred out swear words, crappy parents, Lucius Malfoy
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader
(Y/l/n) - your last name
(Y/m/n) - your mother's name
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(Y/n) didn’t even want to go to this Christmas party.
It was being hosted at Malfoy Manor, so she expected the gathering would be exclusive to Pureblood families and Voldemort supporters; two things that (Y/n) certainly wasn’t keen on spending her holiday surrounded by.
Who has a Christmas party on actual Christmas, anyways? You would think the guests would be too busy, you know, spending the holiday with their loved ones.
But, that was another thing about the company she’d be in tonight. “Family Time” wasn’t exactly high on their list of priorities.
Hence why (Y/n) was stood in front of her bedroom mirror, a floor-length dark green dress adoring her body, glittering in hopes of giving the illusion of some holiday cheer, as their house elf, Mipsy, added the finishing touches to her appearance.
“You look lovely, Miss (Y/l/n).” Mipsy said, earning a soft smile from the teen.
“Thank you, Mipsy. Though, I will admit, I definitely don’t feel in the party mood.” Mipsy smiled sadly. She knew how much (Y/n) longed for a normal day with her family. But, they were always going off to business parties, or traveling for work.
“Perhaps next year, Miss (Y/l/n).” She said sadly, and (Y/n) sighed, knowing exactly what she meant, as she resigned herself to her fate.
“Perhaps next year, Mipsy. Well, I better be going. I expect we’ll be leaving soon.” She stepped away from the mirror and made for the door, stopping only for a moment when Mipsy called out cheerfully.
“Oh, by the way, Miss (Y/l/n), Happy Christmas.” (Y/n) smiled.
“Happy Christmas, Mipsy.”
+ + +
The party was already in full swing when they arrived, but (Y/n)’s mother had always had a knack for being fashionably late. When the grand double doors of the Party Hall opened, all eyes were on the (Y/l/n) family as they descended the staircase to join in the festivities.
(Y/n) hated this. She hated the tightness of her dress, and the way her heels pinched at her toes when she took a step. And she absolutely hated being the center of attention.
And yet, she held her head high. Her parents might just burn her at the stake otherwise. For reasons unbeknownst to (Y/n), this Christmas party was apparently very important.
“Lucius! Narcissa! So lovely to see you.” Her mother greeted as the the blonde family came into view. (Y/n) almost rolled her eyes at their fake tones, before her gaze met that of Draco Malfoy, who didn’t seem all too enthused about the holiday arrangements either.
Well, at least someone understood how ridiculous this whole endeavor was.
“I was wondering when you would arrive. Come! We have much to discuss.” Lucius ordered, gesturing towards the tables across the room. (Y/n) scrunched up her face in confusion.
What could they possibly have to talk about?
+ + +
“I’m sorry, what?” (Y/n) could not believe what she was hearing. She stood just outside the Hall, where she had fled to after hearing the news; the noises of the party now merely a background to the most terrifying conversation of the young girl’s life. Her heart beat loudly in her chest, as her mother patted her shoulder in a way she assumed was supposed to he comforting, but to (Y/n) only felt harsh and unwelcome.
“Darling, marrying into the Malfoy family is a wonderful thing. Draco Malfoy is a delightful boy. You should be happy.” But, (Y/n) was anything but. In fact, she was practically seething.
“Happy? You think I should be happy that you signed my life away without even asking me?” It was at this point, that her father decided to cut in.
“(Y/m/n), go back inside and apologize for (Y/n)’s behavior. Tell them the wedding is still on. She not feeling well and that caused her quick retreat from the room. Nothing more.” Before (Y/n) could even fathom an argument, her mother was gone like a flash, and she was staring into the cold, angry eyes of her father.
+ + +
Draco had been shocked when he discovered the true meaning behind the extravagant Christmas party his parents had planned. Naturally, he’d thought that the last minute festivities were very sudden and out of character for his family, but nothing could have prepared him for the news that he and (Y/n) (Y/l/n) were to be married after graduation.
Don’t get him wrong, she seemed like a lovely girl, but he couldn’t remember a time when he’d spoken more than three words to the girl, much less harbored any romantic feelings for her.
Clearly, she had similar thoughts on the subject, as he watched her stare in awed silence, before storming out of the room, her green skirt billowing behind her. Mrs. (Y/l/n)’s eyes widened in shock before her husband spoke for the pair of them.
“Forgive us. We’ll only be a moment.” Mr. (Y/l/n) said, through gritted teeth, grabbing his wife and following after their distraught daughter. Draco’s father shook his head distastefully.
“Take a good look, Draco. That’s what happens when you don’t run your family with a firm hand. I know you’d never pull a stunt like that. You’ll just have to knock some sense into that (Y/l/n) girl after the wedding.” Lucius spoke, and Draco had to hold back his retort.
Sure, he didn’t know this girl, but, if they were to be married, he certainly wasn’t going to let his father talk about her in such a manner. As if she wasn’t a human being at all. It made him sick. But, of course, Draco would never tell him that. He valued his life, thank you very much.
Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted by Mrs. (Y/l/n) returning with an apologetic smile.
“I’m so sorry for the scene my daughter has caused. She’s suffered from a slight dizzy spell and needed a breath of fresh air. My husband is with her now.” Draco didn’t know if his parents actually believed the woman’s bull sh*t, or they just didn’t care enough to get involved, as they simply nodded at her blatant lie. Draco, however wouldn’t be so easily swayed.
“Perhaps I should go see if she’s alright.” He offered, causing his mother to smile fondly, and his father to glance at him critically, before nodding his head.
“Go on then, Draco. Don’t be long.” And so, he stood from the table, ignoring the worried glance from (Y/n)’s mother and made for the door, not knowing what he would find on the other side, but hoping it wasn’t what he was thinking.
+ + +
“Your mother said you weren’t feeling well.” Draco said, announcing his presence with an emotionless expression, as he took in the scene in front of him.
Mr. (Y/l/n) was standing over (Y/n) menacingly, and her eyes were glossed over, as if she were holding back tears.
“Draco…” Mr. (Y/l/n) backed away a few steps, and smoothing down his dress robes. “Why aren’t you enjoying the party?” He asked, clearly trying to get rid of the young blonde. But, Draco wasn’t having it, and sneered at the man, in typical Slytherin Prince fashion.
“I came to check on my wife-to-be. Is there a problem?” He shook his head swiftly at the boy.
“No, of course not.” He took one more glance at his daughter before making his way to the door. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
+ + +
“Are you alright?”
(Y/n) breathed in deeply for a moment, trying to at least somewhat regain her composure, before looking up at the blonde-haired teen in front of her.
“You don’t have to act like you care.” She mumbled, wanting nothing more then to be left alone to wallow in her self-pity. Draco made a face of disapproval at her comment.
“If you are to be my wife-“ he began, but (Y/n) cut him off, completely floored by the words coming from his mouth.
“How are you okay with this?” She asked, causing him to shake his head.
“I never said I was.” He argued, but (Y/n) just rolled her eyes.
“Then what are you doing about it?” She fought back. Draco sighed heavily, taking a seat on the bench in the entrance hall.
“There’s nothing we can do. If you don’t marry me, they’ll just find someone else. And I can assure you that he’ll be much worse that I am.” (Y/n)’s breathing picked up in anxiety once again. She didn’t want to believe that her parents would just cart her off to the next suitor the moment she said no to the Malfoys.
“You don’t know that…” She argued, her voice wavering slightly, which Draco was all too ready to point out.
“Even you don’t believe your own words.” (Y/n) sat down beside him with a sigh of her own, neither speaking for a moment, both too engrossed in their own thoughts, trying to process their situation. Suddenly, Draco spoke again, earning (Y/n)’s attention.
“He frightens you. Doesn’t he?” He asked. (Y/n) didn’t even have to question who he was referring to. But,why did he need to know?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She turned away, hoping, if he couldn’t see her face, he wouldn’t know she was lying through her teeth.
“Yes you do.” Draco shot back, making (Y/n) turn to glare at him angrily.
“Why do you care?” She asked. It was none of his business. She didn’t need him thinking any less of her then he already probably did due to this whole “arrangement.”
“Because my father scares me too.” He admitted, making (Y/n)’s expression drop. She didn’t know that… “But if we listen, we’ll be okay.” (Y/n)’s gaze fell to her lap, watching her fingers fiddle with her nail polish, nervously.
“Nothing about this is okay.” She shook her head, refusing to look at him. That is, until his warm hand landed comfortingly on top of hers. (Y/n) met his eyes with a confused expression.
“I’ll protect you. I hope you know.” He paused for a moment, as if contemplating his next words.”, before they spilled from him like a waterfall. “I want to love you. I want to fall in love with you.”
+ + +
“Okay…” Draco would’ve done a double take if he hadn’t already been staring at her in earnest. He just poured his heart out to the only girl he’d ever be able to care for, and she said…
“Okay?” He asked, hoping he hadn’t heard her right, but (Y/n) nodded her head.
“Okay. I’m trusting you.” Draco smiled a little at her words. He could work with that.
“Okay.” And he meant what he said.
He was going to protect her. And he would learn what she loved, what she didn’t, how she lived… He would learn everything about her.
And one day he would love her. And she would love him. And everything would be okay. But for now…
“So…Did you have a good Christmas? All things considered?” He asked. (Y/n) chuckled almost darkly, but offered him a small smile.
“I’m certainly not going to forget it.”
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beskarberry · 3 years
Text
Dawnbreaker
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Solisequious, Chapter 2
(Cyborg!Ezra x F!Reader with last name) [+18]
Mr. Green turned to face you fully, and you realize the unnatural vibes you were getting were not unwarranted, turning your guts to ice on the spot.
Cyborg.
<-Previous Next->
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 5.4k
Content warnings: Fighting, Treasure Planet physics, food mention, unintentional flirting.
A/N: Ezra time :3
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Crescentia Station.
Living well up to its name, the moon-shaped spaceport glittered like a scimitar of polished ivory out the window of the ferry as you and Tillie ascended to make port. Serving as Montressor’s key trading station with the rest of the sector, the galactic shipyard teemed with activity; from long-keeled cargo ships laden down with interstellar goods, to neat and narrow clippers with their voluminous sails built to ride even the most challenging solar winds.
As you disembarked the little transport, you scanned over the myriad of species that swarmed the terminals like a hive of insects, trying not to be dissuaded by the fact that none of them were the same as you. Humans weren’t common so far from Terran on the other side of the galaxy, but you figured you’d spot at least one at such a busy port.
Ignoring your own scarcity, you and Dr. Doppler made the trek from the ferry to the ship you’ve hired for the excursion, and it doesn’t take you long at all to find. The RLS Dawnbreaker stood out like a jewel amongst the rest, hovering elegantly along her pier. Crewmates scuttled below her majestic keel, hoisting crates and barrels into her open hull to prepare for the long journey ahead.
“Wowzers… How’d you swing us such a fine ride, Til?” You asked in amazement as the ship’s towering masts briefly blotted out the sun on your approach to the gangway.
Tillie did a double take at her boarding pass to make sure you were at the right terminal before following you up the steps to the ship. “My brother Matey owed me a favor, and to be honest I’m not sure how he did it, but I’m sure I’ll never hear the end of it.”
The ship’s deck was even more alive than the causeway below her, and you narrowly missed having your head removed from your body by a pallet swinging overhead. From atop the stack of lifted crates a multi-eyed alien yelled at you in an unknown language, but you got the gist of ‘get the hell out of the way’. You forgot to watch where you were going and ran face-first into something large and squishy, your surprised grunt deafened by a horrid farting noise.
“Oh, excuse me, I didn’t-” You began, but the towering pink goo creature immediately started to chew you out with a series of toots and honks that would make a finer lady faint from the obscenity of it.
Beside you, Tillie cocked her head, her pointed ears going straight up, then pinned down, followed by a face so disgusted you would have swore the creature had just given the poop deck its name. She pushed you aside gently and cleared her throat, “Allow me… pthbbt fft fttft THURRRBBB ptbthbthbthbthb toot toot toot…pieEEeent.”
The alien took one look at Dr. Doppler and the ridiculous noises she had just made and immediately started laughing, or what counted as laughing in their language, but to you it was just more fart noises. They saluted with one tentacle and moved along, still chuckling to themselves as they went. Tillie grinned at you with all the smugness of the Cheshire cat, “I’m fluent in Flatulent, don’t you know! Dad would have just loved that.”
“Flatulent… cool.” you mused, following your Felinid companion towards who you guessed was the captain. The wide-shouldered crocodyliform cut a robust figure in his blood-red doublet even from the back, his stubby green tail swishing gently from side to side as he surveyed the embarkation. You threw a haphazard salute, “Everything looking ship-shape, captain?”
His long toothy snout swiveled around to meet your greeting with a well meaning but somewhat unsettling grin. “Aye lass, but ahm no’ the captain’o this ship. The captain is aloft.” He gestured up towards the furled topsails with one scaly clawed hand, and as if on cue a figure leaped from the mizzen to the main mast and swung acrobatically from a rope to the deck, landing gracefully on their feet with barely a sound.
Before you now stood a tall and lanky bird lady dressed in a navy blue frock coat and tall, knee-high boots. Her head and neck were covered in shimmering white feathers that made the bright orange circles around her four black eyes stick out even more than the long charcoal feathers protruding off the back of her head.
“Mr. Bolt!” She clacked, marching up to the now-named lizard with majestic arrogance. “I’ve inspected this miserable tub from stem to stern and I am absolutely flummoxed to say that it’s… spot on. Well done, Mr. Bolt.” She smiled at the first mate when he tipped his hat to her, then cocked a feathery brow down at you and your companion. “Dr. Doppler I presume? And Ms. Hawkins? Welcome aboard the Dawnbreaker, I’m Captain Fiona.”
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Tillie started, throwing a hand out to shake, but the eagle-eyed woman disregarded it. “Ahem, anyway, we should go over the map that leads to the aurela-”
The captain slapped a white-gloved hand over Tillie’s muzzle, silencing her quickly. Around you, a couple of crewmates suddenly resumed their tasks, giving away that they may have been eavesdropping. Fiona got right in Tillie’s face and hissed: “Keep your blabbering mouth shut, Doctor. My office, now.”
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Fiona locked the heavy bulkhead door behind her as you, Dr. Doppler, and Mr. Bolt filed into the captain’s cabin. It’s a stately room with a wide aft window spanning the entire back wall, giving a nearly unobstructed view of Crescentia Station. Captain Fiona paced quickly into the suite, her quadrocular expression cross. “You would do well to keep that piehole of yours shut, Doctor Doppler. I don’t trust this crew your brother hired any further than I can throw them. What was it I said about them this morning, Mr. Bolt, right before my morning cup of coffee? It was quite clever…”
“You called them a scurvy-ridden cesspool o’ degenerate, hag-born snakes, ma’am.”
“Ah, yes. That was quite good, wasn’t it?” Fiona mused with a laugh, “And I stand by it. This crew that Matey acquired for the expedition sets my teeth on edge, and you would do well to zip your flapping cockhole lest the more unsavory of the lot get some mutinous ideas.”
Tillie balked, “Flapping cockhole?! N-now see here-”
“No, you see here.” Fiona interrupted, standing up to her full height that gives her a few inches over your companion. “I only agreed to this outlandish excursion because I owed Matey Doppler a favor, but to you I owe nothing. This is my ship, Doctor, and you would do well to follow my orders. What sort of doctor are you anyway? Medical I should hope?”
“…Zoologist.”
“Phenomenal.” The captain’s four onyx eyes seemed to cut Tillie to the bone, her eagerness to endure the coming journey already beginning to wane. “Now then, the map, if you please.”
You pulled the neatly-folded parchment from your pocket, but kept the aurelac to yourself. The captain took it from you carefully, her stern expression suddenly excited as she plotted the course to the unexplored corner of the Etherium. “Very good, we can make this journey in a few months’ time.” She crossed the large room with three easy strides towards a tall cabinet and swiftly stored the map under lock and key. “Ms. Hawkins, your grandfather’s reputation precedes you, but that says nothing to me about you. Tell me, aside from regular disputes with law enforcement, what experience do you have as a spacer?”
Spacer? “Uh… I can fly a solar surfer? And I’m good at fixing things.” The combination of these admittances made you suddenly homesick, flashing the memory of grandad’s solar board back above the fireplace mantel where it belongs. That was the one condition Sarah made you agree to since she didn’t trust you to return home with it alive. You swallowed the thought down and stood as proudly as you could, awaiting the captain’s orders.
She tilted her head down at you, the muscles in her jaw setting her beak stiff with disdain. “A ‘solar surfer’ is not a ship, Ms. Hawkins, and being able to fix or fly one does not a spacer make. You’ll be assigned to the galley with the other human, Mr. Green, as his assistant. Though I don’t trust him any more than the rest of his ilk he’s at least been starborne, which is more than I can say of you, and hopefully that will keep the two of you out of trouble. Mr. Bolt, will you show her to her station?”
You choked trying to formulate an argument, but Mr. Bolt’s reptilian physique was already ushering you out the door, and you can’t do much else but fume on the way to the ship’s kitchen. Before you’ve even arrived at the stairs leading down through the deck hatch you could smell something being prepared for the after-launch meal.
It cut through the scent of jute wax and sun-warmed wood that permeated the docks with ease; a spicy aroma that made you ache for the Benbow’s house special. You followed your nose -and your stomach- regardless of Mr. Bolt’s guidance, stepping out of the breezy afternoon and down into the dark hearth-warmth of the galley. Once the hubbub of the deck’s activities was blotted out by the rising wooden walls, your ears pick up what your nose could not:
Singing.
“Yew that is old, in churchyard mould, he breedeth a mighty bow
Alder for shoes do wise men choose, and Beech for cups also
But when you have killed, and your bowl it is filled, and your shoes are clean outworn
Back you must speed for all that you need to Oak, and Ash, and Thorn.”
The sound of a human man’s rich, twangy baritone reverberated clearly over the clanging banging of the kitchen where he worked, a deep-timbred melody articulated with each cut of a knife or flip of a pan, turning the wooden walled galley into a tiny amphitheater all its own. You could see him now, past the low bench tables, circling the cooking crucible in a sort of dance, the fire’s shadows giving him an eerie, unnatural aura.
“Mr. Green.” the first mate barked, demanding the cooks attention.
“Well good afternoon, Mr. Bolt!” The man called with an educated southern drawl, wiping his hands off on his apron quickly before trying to make himself more presentable. “Had I known you were coming to grace my humble galley I would have tidied up a bit! To what do I owe the pleasure of your unannounced presence? Come to sample the launch-lunch?” Mr. Green turned to face you fully, and you realize the unnatural vibes you were getting were not unwarranted, turning your guts to ice on the spot.
Cyborg.
Nearly half of him seemed to have been replaced by mechanized augmentations, spanning from top to bottom of his right side. His prosthetic eye caught your own first, a red flickering light that seemed to reflect off of the rackish patch of blond hair jutting out from his temple, contrasting sharply with the rest of his otherwise dark brown curls that matched his remaining left eye’s hue. You didn’t see him smile as you took him in, your eyes locked to his cybernetic right arm as its vents hissed with steam, switching the knife attachment he was using to chop vegetables into one more resembling a skeletal metal hand.
“Ms. Hawkins ‘ere ‘as been assigned to be your assistant. She’s no’ been starborne so it’s up to you to teach her the ins-’n’-outs o’ the ship. Captain’s orders.” Mr. Bolt demanded, not giving you or the cook any room for argument before turning on his heel and marching back up the stairs. Mr. Green, aghast, stared in bewilderment as the first mate leaves, his jaw working to form a sentence that he cannot seem to find.
You filled it in for him. “Look, I don’t like it any more than you do, cyborg. If I’d know I was gonna get stuck in the kitchen I would have just stayed home.” You crossed your arms and slouched against the wall, eyeing Mr. Green with enough venomous skepticism to kill a lesser man.
“But then we would never have met, and truly that would be a crime against the stars themselves. How fortunate I am to make your acquaintance!” He laughed and stuck his mechanical arm out to you, the hand ‘accidentally’ replaced with a long knife blade. “Apologies! Has a mind of its own, it does.” he said, swapping back over to a shakeable grip, but you’d already had enough of his antics and refused.
“Mr. Green-”
“Please, call me Ezra. I won’t be forced to endure the pomp and circumstance any more’n I have to, and certainly not from such a maiden as fair and fierce as thee.” He broke out in a charming grin, and if you weren’t so deafened by the ‘beware the cyborg’ warning your father had bestowed on you blaring like a siren between your ears, you might have found him handsome. He smirked at your rough demeanor, making the crinkles around his eyes deepen. “Don’t let this hunk of hardware intimidate you, little bird. Took some gettin’ used to, but it has proven itself to be quite advantageous.”
The mechanical prosthetic whirred to life when Ezra returned to his cutting board, making short work of a pile of shellfish, then switching to another tool to dice up a handful of fat root vegetables faster and more efficiently than a mortal limb ever could. He masterfully swapped between gadgets, putting on a show just to impress your skeptical eyes. The hand became claws, then knives, then a saw, sending ingredients flying expertly around the kitchen. You managed to feign disinterest until he swapped to a literal flame thrower, charring some vegetables mid air as they were flung into the pot.
After throwing in a final dash of unknown spices, he dipped a deep-bowled ladle into the steaming gumbo and brought it to his fuzzy lips, sampling the stew with a contented sigh. “Perfection.” He purred, sauntering over to you with more pride than a peacock in heat. He held the spoons’ handle in his artificial hand, but his calloused left floated just under the bowl -and rather close to your chin- ready to catch any errant drips. “Here, try this.”
You glared at the ladle-full of soup being held so close to your face, but you couldn’t deny it did smell fantastic. Ezra caught your look of disdain and pouted; a pleading, innocent face. You supposed if it was poison he wouldn’t have taken a sample for himself, so you bucked up and took a sip.
Sweet stars above.
It’s delicious, warm and rich and just spicy enough that the heat of it burned like a wildfire from the depths of your belly to the tips of your toes, dropping the ambient temperature of the galley against your skin by several degrees. You closed your eyes and let Ezra tilt the spoon for you to take a deeper swig, savoring the rich and creamy texture and catching a chunk of some otherworldly vegetable between your teeth. It’s soft and flavorful, not mushy or over cooked like your sister sometimes did to the bonzabeast, and you were stuck by the sudden heartache of coming home.
Swallowing a mouthful of the most amazing gumbo you’d ever tasted, you slowly let Ezra pass you the ladle, ignoring the feel of his metal fingers brushing past yours, too engrossed with your own indulgence. There’s not nearly enough for you, and you downed the rest of it quickly, licking the lingering flavor of spices from off your lips with almost inappropriate leisure. When nothing remained, you let your eyes flicker back open and nearly jumped out of your own skin with how close Ezra had gotten.
“How is it?”
He was nearly in your face, his enormous brown eye watching you eagerly, eyebrows arched in anticipation. The details of his face were clearer now, or maybe you were finally able to take your gaze off of the non-human parts of him and see what remains. There’s a fine white scar across his left cheek parallel to the line of bristles hanging below his aquiline nose, the corners of which just barely brush a matching set of dimples bracketing his parted lips. You could see his hands out of your peripheral vision, the flesh-and-bone one fidgeting nervously with the tendon wires of the prosthetic, and you realized he’s waiting on you to give him an answer.
“It’s, uh… it’s good…”
Ezra beamed, a boyish smile that easily lit up the room. “Excellent! Can’t start a voyage off on a bad meal! It’s bad luck, y’know. I may be but a humble cyborg, but I always take pride in setting a voyage off on the right foot! Or, er, peg, in my case. Now, why don’t you head topside’n observe the launch, eh? There’ll be plenty’a opportunities to get to know each other better on the journey ahead!”
You agreed with Captain Fiona, Ezra and the crew probably couldn’t be trusted, but you find yourself unable to disagree with such a kind, genuine smile paired with such a delicious cup of broth. Maybe your dead-beat dad was just star-crazed about cyborgs, because this one didn’t seem like the type to cause any real harm. And, as much as you hated to admit it, the fact that he was easy on the eyes certainly helped. Nobody truly evil could make something as tasty as the gumbo and look so good doing it, so with a happy tummy you nodded and headed back up the creaky stairs.
Mr. Green watched you go until your bootheels disappeared past the steps, and the moment you were out of sight he let his charming grin dissipate, replaced with a near-snarling scowl. The red light of his optic flickered thoughtfully while he smoothed down the corners of his mustache using the rubber pads of his right hand’s claws.
“Hawkins, eh? How... convenient.”
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“We’ve got the all-clear captain!”
The call from the lookout rang loud and true over the busy port, earning a nod from Captain Fiona. “Well, Mr. Bolt, are we ready to raise this creaking tub and get this expedition underway?”
“Aye, captain. All hands to stations!” Mr. Bolt bellowed, summoning a flurry of activity on the deck right as you exited the galley hatch. Spacers climbed the rigging shrouds with practiced ease up the masts, waiting on the call of “Loose all solar sails!” from the first mate. The sails splayed horizontally like enormous handheld fans, their hexagonal energy cells dull and lifeless in the shadow of Crescentia Station.
As the dozen or so halfshells unfurled above your head, the keel-jets flickered to life, gently nudging the Dawnbreaker out of her berth and into the open air. Over the taffrail you watched as the station fell away below you, obscured partially by a flurry of white-winged skyrays trailing after the ship. Mr. Bolt’s commands led the ship higher until she was no longer eclipsed by the station, the ivory sails swelling with the radiant power of Apollo’s kiss crackling to life across the canvas.
Once you’d risen into the open air, the gravity from the station began to wane, and you felt your feet leave the deck below you. Your clothes billowed around like water, and momentary panic had you flapping your arms trying to swim. The captain and first mate were unphased, though Dr. Doppler looked just as flummoxed as you floating ass-over-teakettle through the air. “Mr. Slerg!” Captain Fiona called from a few feet off the deck, addressing the pink fart blob you’d met earlier. “Engage artificial gravity!”
Mr. Slerg tooted a salute and threw a lever jutting from the nautiloid-shaped generator taking up a sizable square footage of the deck. It whirred like a tornado, radiating deep purple light that spread across the deck in lightning strikes, bringing everything aboard down with it. You and Tillie both landed gracelessly, but the crewmates were no worse off. The Avian, unimpressed by the landlubbers, ignored the both of you. “North by North West, Mr. Arbuckle, heading one-three-zero-four.” The helmsmen repeated the heading back to the captain, turning the steering wheel swiftly with their multiple arms and pointed the ship towards the Ethereal expanse. “Full speed, Mr. Bolt.”
The ship’s innards roared, her propulsion engines rumbling with anticipation the same way your solar board did, eager and wild until all the fury of the stars was released behind you. From the quarterdeck you think you hear Tillie scream, having not yet developed her space-legs, but the howl of the ship flying drowns out nearly every sound including the Felinid’s surprised yowls.
Crescentia Station dropped away sickeningly fast, and you climbed up onto the nearest shroud ropes to get a better view. Warm wind ruffled through your hair and made your eyes water, the Dawnbreaker quickly reaching a speed your solar-board only ever dreamed of.
Ahead, the Etherium flowed and pulsed, tempting you with it’s unknown treasures. The nebulous clouds glittered with far away stars, shining brightly on the backs of skyrays trailing after the ship. You heard something over the engine’s purr, a low, pleasant sound that immediately drew your eyes.
“Woah…”
A pod of enormous cetaceans coasted alongside you, their mouths alone big enough to swallow your ship whole, but the gentle giants were just as curious about you as you were of them. They sang their mournful song, wishing you the best of luck on your journey to the stars.
“Upon my word, a pod of orcus galacticus!” Tillie beamed from the floor of the quarter deck, stumbling to her feet and fishing out a handheld camera. “I’ve got to get a picture for the Archives!” The Felinid leaned carelessly over the gunrails, smushing the camera into her glasses to get the best shot.
“Doctor.. I wouldn’t get too close if I were-”
-SPLOOSH!-
The orcus Tillie had her lens trained on vented its blowhole, drenching the cat lady in sticky, foul-smelling goop. Fiona hid her laugh, but her secretive smile was quickly erased by the thump-clack-thump-clack of a cyborg’s peg-legged step.
“A beautiful day to sail Kevva’s domain, don’t you think, captain?” Ezra made a grand gesture of tipping a ratty tricorn hat from his head, and the dark green canvas coat that had replaced his galley apron swished behind him dramatically with his theatrical bow. “And you yourself are looking as fine and formidable as a frigate with new forecanons and a fresh coat of paint.”
Not a feather ruffled on the captain’s head. “That whore-caller mouth of yours might work in the spaceport brothels, but aboard my ship I’ll have none of it.” Fiona cut, glaring at the downtrodden cook from her perch by the wheel. “Mind your tongue before it’s removed from your head, Mr. Green.”
Ezra pouted nervously. “Why captain, I speak nothing but the truth’a my heart, ma’am, my heart which you have now undeniably broken…”
Already over Ezra’s flim-flammery, Fiona tilted her head like a chicken and squinted down the deck, her four eyes giving her an exceptional view of… you. “And, by the way, isn’t that your cabin girl aimlessly dicking around in the rigging?”
You weren’t so much ‘aimlessly dicking around’ as you were taking in the sight of the Etherium swallowing the ship, the vast blue and purple clouds of nebulous gas flowing in a sort of cosmic waltz. The lattice rope of the mainsail’s shroud made for a perfect stayfast for you to wrap your wrist around, and you couldn’t help but lean over the gunrails to watch the infinite pass below.
It was fucking beautiful.
A man of many, many words, Ezra fumbled for some kind of argument, but the captain was steadfast. He huffed and squashed his hat back down on his head, bullying his shoulders broad. “Hawkins!” He called, his uneven gait thump-clacking towards you. You rolled your eyes, recognizing the same ‘bad-dog’ tone your sister liked to use whenever you got brought home by the cops. “I’ve got a pair of acquaintances that I’d like you to meet!” Curious, you glanced around the deck, but aside from the busy crew hands and the cyborg, there was nobody you hadn't seen. He smiled disarmingly, and you knew right then you were fucked. “Say hello… to Mr. Mop, and Mrs. Bucket!”
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The Dawnbreaker, though having not left port too long ago, was already dinged with scuffs and grime from the embarkation, and you cursed your heritage for being raised in a tavern. Mr. Mop splottered against the wood grossly, wet with already-dirty water that you were using to swab the deck. This blows you thought angrily to yourself, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn stain. This is barely any better than the Benbow! But at least it’s in space, right?
In your annoyance, you backed unwillingly into a large meaty wall, the owner of which nearly punched your lights out. “Watch it, human!” the creature roared in an octave so low you felt it in your bowels. Your first instinct was to spit back -Bite me, fuckwit!- but compared to the towering, four-armed monstrosity you were practically an insect, so you regretfully held your tongue. You’d never felt outnumbered by non-humans before now, and though you were used to the Benbow’s otherworldly patronage, something about these particular extraterrestrials made your skin crawl.
The mop squelched disgustingly against the deck again, but your eyes couldn’t stay on your work any more now that your hackles were raised. Your perked ears caught the sound of something hushed, and you stole a glance up to observe a small group of crewmates gathered around a barrel top, whispering in alien tongues to each other with seemingly juicy secrets. A pair of eyes flashed up to see you with a double-take, and hushed the group to glare at you. You pretended to keep mopping, but you’d already been spotted. The deckhand’s fat, toothy mouth curled upwards into a snarl, exposing more than one row of teeth. “What’re you lookin’ at, human?”
You bared your teeth to retort, but a venomous hissing poisoned the air above your head. Cold ice trickled down your spine, almost freezing you solid when you looked up and into a pair of gigantic yellow compound eyes situated on either side of an overly-fanged mouth. “Cabin girl…” The crab-spider creature growled, descending the shroud lines like a web to loom over you. “Keep your eyesss on your own businesssss, lessst you lose them…”
Cabin girl?! Getting cat-called at the tavern was one thing, but you’d killed bigger bugs with a rolled up newspaper, and you weren’t going to let this one bully you. Folding your fingers over the top of the mop handle, you cocked your hip and sneered. “Well, keepin’ the ship clean is my business, you overgrown lobster, and I should know if there’s something dirty going on.”
Furious, the arachnid snarled and dug a meaty claw into the collar of your shirt, hauling you up into the air, your face only inches from his gnashing mandibles. “Maybe your earsss don’t work s’good, going to have to teach you a lesssson…”
The creature’s breath was sour enough to put hair on your chest, and you nearly vomited right in his face. “Blegh, did you brush your teeth with curdled milk this morning? Smells like a whole herd of bonzabeasts asses exploded and then died. Gimme that mop’an lemme wash your mouth out!”
“Why you little-!” The mainmast nearly broke your back when you were smashed up against it, a savagely-sharp claw pinned around your neck and another one pointed at your throat. You squirmed in the monster’s clutches, but your desperate flailing went ignored by the cheering crew, demanding blood be shed. The arachnid, standing high on his many-jointed legs, grinned as wolfishly as his exoskeletal face would allow. “Any lassst wordsss, cabin girl?”
Your execution was cut short by a mechanical clamp seizing around the creature’s forearm and yanking it away from your throat, the metal pads digging into the chitin so hard you could hear it creak over your assailant’s sudden wail. On the other end of the metal arm was Ezra, nonchalantly munching away on a piece of dark purple fruit. “Mr. Skarn…” he purred, turning the monster’s arm just enough to make his point. “Do you know what the best way to get the meat out of a crab shell is? You gotta crack it open!”
Ezra’s clamp bore down with force, twisting and crushing the arachnid’s thick carapace with a sickening crunch. Mr. Skarn hissed and dropped you finally, tucking his wounded arm defensively up to his chest.
“What’s all this then?!” A roar sounded from above you, and the heavy steps of Mr. Bolt making his way down from the quarterdeck to you caught the attention of everyone aboard. He bared his serrated teeth at the nonsense parade that you were stuck in the middle of. “You know the rules! There’ll be no brawling on this ship, an’ any who disobey that order again’ll be confined to the brig.” Mr. Bolt, though shorter than Mr. Skarn, seemed to tower over the brought-down bug, his long reptilian snout just inches from the creature’s butthurt face. “Am I clear, Mr. Skarn?”
Mr. Skarn’s mandibles threatened to roll back in a sneer, but Ezra’s optic laser flashed red in a warning, shining brightly over the arachnid’s smooth exoskeleton. “Crystal, sir.” Mr. Skarn hissed, and defeated, he glared over his shoulder at you and Ezra before taking his leave.
“Thank you Mr. Bolt, sir!” Ezra flattered, shooing off the remaining crewmates. “Keeping a tight ship, that’s what I like to see, sir!” When the first mate was out of sight, Ezra pivoted back to you on his bearing-ball foot, stomping his booted one defiantly. “You’ve barely been aboard an hour and you’re already startin’ fights? You’re lucky I showed up when I did or Skarn would’ve had your guts for garters!”
“I had it under control, cyborg, that bug eyed fuckhole-”
“I’ll not hear it!” He roared, the pleasant smile you’d first encountered nowhere to be found. The furious cyborg, free of the confines of the galley, towered over you like a mountain, ready to drop an avalanche on you should you raise your voice too loud. “Now, I want this deck scrubbed spotless, and Kevva help me if it’s not done by the time I come back!” The metal of his right hand grated harshly against the mop’s handle when he thrust it back into your arms and stormed off, and you almost thought you could see the prosthetic steaming with rage. The wet mophead slapped grossly against the deck when you returned to your job, but you’d already decided that you liked mopping much more than you liked Ezra.
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Below deck most of the hired crew had gathered to take supper, but the galley kitchen stood cold. Ezra sauntered slowly down the stairs, tilting the brim of his hat up with one iron finger so as not to obstruct his heterochromatic surveillance of the crew. The laser optic flickered in a bemused blink, the fleshy edges around it crinkled from his grin. “My friends, you must pardon me for speaking so plainly…” he hummed, pausing to fuss with the lapel of someone’s jacket, setting it more carefully in line with its seem. “But I must ask if you are all out of your stark raving, evER LOVING MINDS?!” His once-gentle hand -sncks- to a long-bladed cutlass, slashing recklessly within inches of his crewmates faces. “After all the work I did to get us posted as an honorable, upstanding crew, you’re set to blow the whole damned mutiny before it’s even started?!”
Mr. Skarn found himself staring down the pointy end of Ezra’s blade, and the crustacean swallowed thickly around a dry tongue. “That wench wasss sssticking her nose where it doesn’t belong… I’d hate for her to encounter sssome unfortunate… accident.”
“You just stick to the damn plan, you chitinous cretin, and keep your claws to yourself. No blood’ll be spilled on this ship until I say so. And leave the girl to me, something tells me she knows more about this little expedition than she's letting on to, and I intend to find out what.” Ezra growled, the snarl on his face twisted upwards into a villainous grin. “One way, or another.”
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Okay but like I feel like Diego is the kind of person to flirt with really bad pick-up lines and Klaus is just Not Having It
featuring: Diego being a flustered Mama's boy and Klaus being a disaster dumbass and the two of them being completely in love with each other anyway
DISCLAIMER: None of the pick-up lines are mine, but the responses and ensuing shenanigans are :)
(there's fifty of these so buckle up kids :) sorry not sorry <3)
seriously though some of these are really bad
#1: He A Snack
Diego: Baby, you belong in the vending machine because you’re a snack.
Klaus: Diego you know I’m claustrophobic.
Diego: Don’t you mean Klaus-trophobic??? *finger guns*
Klaus: *blinks*
Klaus: I want a divorce.
#2: I’m From Hell
Diego: Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?
Klaus: I’m a veteran addict and abuse victim who can see ghosts, Diego.
Klaus: Everything hurts.
#3: Animal Puns
Diego: *points to TV screen playing the Discovery Channel* Hey Klaus.
Diego: You’re my otter half.
Klaus: Diego those are meerkats.
#4: Stars
Diego: The stars are beautiful tonight.
Klaus: Yup.
Diego: You know who else is beautiful?
Klaus: Ben.
#5: Get Out Your Handcuffs Mister
Diego: You’re under arrest… for stealing my heart.
Klaus: Diego you got kicked out of the police academy like five years ago, just give up.
#6: Bad Boys
Diego: *leaning against the doorframe like a moron* So. I hear you like bad boys.
Klaus: Diego you cried because you accidentally stepped on a bee last week.
Diego: Well yeah but -
Klaus: You held a funeral for it. You made us all speak. You had Allison fly in from California. It was a fucking bee, Diego.
Diego: … I wear leather?
Klaus: So does every other kid who shops at Hot Topic. You’re not special.
#7: Prince Charming
Diego: Your knight in shining armor is here -
Klaus: One, that’s a turtleneck, not armor.
Klaus: Two, you’re covered in blood. That’s the opposite of shiny.
Klaus: Three, you smell like dead fish. Go take a shower.
#8: Chemistry
Diego: Did we have a class together? Because I could’ve sworn we had -
Klaus: Chemistry? Yup. Also English and math and foreign languages and history and like every other fucking thing because we grew up in the same sadistic boarding school, Diego.
#9: The Store Can’t Just Give Away Things For Free. That’s A Terrible Way To Run A Business.
Diego: I like your pants.
Klaus: Thanks. I got them out of a dumpster. And yes, you can have them 100% off.
Diego: *voice cracks* Really?
Klaus: No.
#10: Boyfriend Material
Diego: My jeans are made of -
Klaus: You’re wearing leather pants Diego.
Diego: Okay but -
Klaus: So they’re made of leather and they’re not fucking jeans.
#11: Digits
Diego: I lost my phone number. Can I have -
Klaus: None of us have phones, Diego.
Diego: I can… buy us some?
Klaus: Fine. I want my number to be 1-420-420-4201.
Diego: Baby no.
Klaus: *pulling out the puppy dog eyes* Pwetty pwease?
Diego: Fine, but mine’s gonna be 1-696-969-6969.
Klaus: I love you so much. Marry me. Have my babies.
#12: Love At First Sight
Diego: Do you believe in love at first sight or -
Klaus: If I did I’d have already fallen in love with a lot of hot ghosts.
Diego: - should I walk by again?
Klaus: You’ve been pacing for the past ten minutes, Gogo. I think if it was gonna happen it would’ve by now.
#13: You Have Fine Written All Over You
Diego: Are you a parking ticket? Cause -
Klaus: Diego I can’t drive.
#14: His Eyes Are Green Not Blue You Dipshit
Diego: Your eyes are an ocean, and I’m lost at sea.
Klaus: ... can’t you, like, hold your breath forever?
Diego: *blinks* Baby, I love you, but you’re ruining this with our childhood trauma.
Klaus: Well since you’ve refused therapy I just thought this was the next best option.
Diego: I take back what I said about loving you.
#15: Math Is Dumb And I Wish School Would Stop Teaching It
Diego: Are you a forty-five degree angle?
Klaus: Actually, because humans have non-linear body shapes, it’s impossible for their specific angles to be measured -
Diego: Are you high or have you been defiling Five’s books again?
Klaus: *blinks* Why can’t it be both?
Diego: *rethinking life decisions*
#16: Baby I’m All Yours
Diego: Do you have a name?
Klaus: Klaus.
Diego: Or can I call you mine?
Klaus: I mean I prefer “baby”, but sure.
Diego: *super wide eyes* Really?
Klaus: *melts into a puddle of glitter* Yeah, Gogo.
#17: (Not) Bookworms
Diego: Thank god I brought my library card. Cause I’m here to check you out.
Klaus: *through a mouthful of waffles* God isn’t real. We all die and rot beneath the earth to be eaten by maggots. There is no such thing as a higher power.
Klaus: *swallows waffles and takes a really loud slurp of an orange juice and chocolate milk combo*
Klaus: Oh, and the library’s closed for renovations til, like, Christmas so you’re outta luck, sorry.
Diego: I thought you met god? Little girl on a bicycle?
Klaus: Her? Nah, only Satan’s got that much sass. Plus, that wasn’t heaven.
Diego: And you know this how?
Klaus: *squishes Diego’s face with both hands* Think about it. Do you really think dear ol’ dad’s in heaven?
Diego: Can you let of my face please?
#18: Bad Move, Buddy
Diego: Are you a pre-historic fossil? Cause you’re my missing link.
Klaus:
Klaus:
Klaus:
Klaus: Did you just call me old?
Diego, backing out of the room slowly: What? No! No of course not! No, obviously no, absolutely not -
Klaus: *releases savage war cry*
Diego: *runs for his goddamn life*
#19: I Rate This 0/10
Diego: Are you from Tennessee? Cause you’re the only -
Klaus: I don’t know where I’m from. I’m an orphan.
Diego: Oh… I know, baby -
Klaus: And the piece of shit that adopted me lived in New York anyway. We’re in New York right now actually. Do you need a geography lesson? I think Pogo’s got a map -
Diego: Klaus.
#20: Oh Shit
Diego: If nothing lasts forever, will you be my nothing?
Klaus:
Klaus:
Klaus:
Klaus: *tears up* I’m nothing?
Diego: Oh no. No no no. No, baby, you’re not nothing, don’t cry, I’m so sorry, that’s not what I meant, baby - oh my god please don’t cry -
#21: You’ve Got Everything I’m Searching For
Diego: Is your name Google? Because -
Klaus: Diego. For the last time…
Klaus: My name is Kimberly Linda Aerealia Ulysses Saffron Hargreeves the Twenty-Fourth. I don’t know why I need to keep explaining this to you -
Diego, kissing him quiet: You’re my favorite person in the world, you know that?
#22: Don’t Make Bets You’ll Lose, Luther.
Diego: Luther bet me a hundred bucks I couldn’t talk to the prettiest person here. How do you wanna spend his money?
Klaus: Drugs.
Diego: Baby -
Klaus: *beams* Nah, I’m just kidding. Stuffed giraffes.
Diego: *grins* For Five?
Klaus: *nods* For Five.
Diego:
Klaus:
Diego: He’ll hate them.
Klaus: Exactly. Let’s go.
#23: Deja Vu
Diego: Have we met before?
Klaus: Yes. Obviously. Are you also high?
Diego: No -
Diego: Wait, you’re high?
Klaus:
Diego:
Klaus:
Diego:
Klaus: No?
#24: Such An Optimist
Diego: Are you a time traveller?
Klaus: No, that’s Five.
Diego: Cause I think you’re my future!
Klaus: *stares blankly*
Diego: No? Nothing? Nada?
Klaus: In the future we’re all dead dipshit.
Klaus: Because. Ya know.
Klaus: THERE’S A FUCKING APOCALYPSE COMING.
Diego:
Diego: Okay then.
#25: Please Go To The Hospital.
Diego: Are you my appendix? Cause my stomach’s fluttering and I think I should take you out.
Klaus:
Klaus: Did you drink water from the fish tank again?
Diego: *turning green* Luther dared me to okay???!!!!
#26: Suicidal Tendencies
Diego: Hey gorgeous -
Klaus: Let me guess. I should drop dead?
Diego: What?! No! Baby -
#27: Infinitely On The Naughty List (And Not The Good Kind Of Naughty List (If There Is One I’m Asexual I Don’t Know))
Diego: Are you Santa Klaus? Cause you make all my wishes come true.
Klaus:
Klaus:
Klaus:
Klaus: You have five seconds to run.
Diego: *already two streets away* Fucking shit -
#28: You Can’t Use That Every Time We Have An Argument, Tony.
Diego: Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist right?
Klaus: I mean, there’s one in the corner of our living room right now, so I guess?
Diego:
Diego:
Diego:
Diego: *squeaks* You - you can see dinosaur ghosts?
Klaus: I mean, there’s a chance that thing Ben’s petting is just a super deformed ostrich, but yeah, I think so.
Diego:
Diego:
Diego:
Diego: *tearing up* That’s so cool.
#29: A Whole New Kind Of Thirst Trap
Diego: I’m thirsty. But guess whose body is 75% water?
Diego: *smirks*
Klaus: *frowns*
Klaus: Hold on, I know this one…
Diego: Klaus -
Klaus: *snaps fingers* Oh, I know! Luther!
Diego: *horrified* What the fuck Klaus why the fuck would you say that -
#30: What A Tragedy
Diego: You must be a campfire. Because you’re super hot and I want s’more.
Klaus:
Klaus: Diego sweetheart, you’re allergic to marshmallows.
Diego: *tearing up* I know.
Klaus: You wanna hug, baby?
Diego: *crying* Yes please.
#31: That Can’t Be Allowed
Diego: Don’t tell me if you want me to take you out to dinner. Just smile for yes, or do a backflip/somersault/counter-spin gymnastics combination for no.
Klaus: *smirks*
Klaus: *does a triple flip and lands perfectly on the top of the bar counter*
Diego: *turns bright red* That was h-h-hot.
Klaus: *beams and jumps down into Diego’s arms bridal-style*
Klaus: *kisses his cheek* I know, baby.
#32: Merry Christmas
Diego: You’re the reason Santa started the Naughty List.
Klaus: *blinks*
Klaus: *pouts*
Klaus: No fair! He told me last week I was on the Nice List!
Diego: What? Klaus? What does that -
Diego: OH MY GOD KLAUS IS SANTA DEAD???!!!!
#33: I’ll Keep You Safe, Honey.
Diego: I lost my teddy bear. Will you sleep with me instead?
Klaus: *pulls out a stuffed tiger*
Klaus: He got lost in the kitchen. Don’t worry, I rescued him for you.
Diego: *takes soft tiger*
Diego: *voice cracks* Oh. Thanks.
Klaus: *kisses his forehead* You’re welcome, baby.
#34: Excuse Me?
Diego: The only thing your eyes haven’t told me is your name.
Klaus, internally: Shit. What if he finds out I stole like five of his knives and all of the cookies last week?
Klaus, externally: *blinks*
Klaus: Um… Stefonopolis?
#35: I Am Not Apologizing For This One
Diego: If you were a steak, you’d be well done.
Klaus: But I’m so unique…
Klaus: I talk to the dead, Diego.
Diego: Okay…?
Klaus: *smirks*
Klaus: So wouldn’t I be medium rare?
Ben: Ooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
#36: Leonardo Da Vinci Was Arrested Multiple Times For Homosexual Activity.
Diego: Is this a museum? Cause you’re a work of art.
Klaus: *dancing to the soundtrack of High School Musical 3* Actually Five took me back to Italy once. Leonardo da Vinci and I had some fun.
Diego:
Diego: Oh my god. Seriously?
Diego: *looks up picture of Mona Lisa, now titled Mona Klausa*
Diego: How the fuck -
#37: Why Would You Say That Though
Diego: Am I sleepwalking? Cause I’ve only seen you in my dreams.
Klaus: *sitting on the counter and eating a donut in one bite* Are they dirty?
Luther: *chokes on a pickle*
Diego: Oh my god no -
Diego: Well sometimes -
Diego: I mean no of course not -
Luther: *praying to whoever’s up there to just kill him already*
#38: Be Safe Kids!
Diego: Can you hold this for me?
Klaus: Sweetie, you need to wash your hands.
#39: Apocalypse Averted!
Diego: If looks could kill, you’d be a weapon of mass destruction.
Klaus: *blinks*
Klaus: I thought that was Vanya.
Diego:
Diego, panicking: Holy shit Klaus you can’t just say things like that -
Vanya: *crying from laughter*
#40: Attractive
Diego: Do you swallow magnets? Because you’re -
Klaus: *shoves him up against the wall*
Klaus: How did you find out? Who told you? Was it Ben? I swear to god I’ll kill him -
Diego: *squeaks* What?
#41: First You’ve Gotta Propose Diego
Diego: Wouldn’t we look cute on a wedding cake together?
Klaus: Diego. Did you buy me a cake?
Diego:
Klaus:
Diego:
Klaus: I’m waiting.
Diego: Right sir yes sir right away sir -
#42: He May Not Be A Kitten But He Is As Soft As One
Diego: If I followed you home, would you keep me?
Klaus: I’m homeless, Diego.
Diego: What? You are? Oh no, baby - you can come stay with me?
Klaus: *looks up from Disney Princess coloring book and raises an eyebrow* Is your bed available?
Diego, blushing: Ye-yeah, b-ba-baby. Whe-whenever you-u w-want.
Klaus: *smiles*
Klaus: *takes Diego’s hand*
Klaus: Okay.
Diego: *dies a little bit inside (in a good way)*
#43: It’s Just You.
Diego: Is it hot in here or is it just you?
Klaus, blushing: I -
Five: DIEGO. THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE. NOW IS NOT THE TIME.
#44: ‘Scuse Me, Mate?
Diego: You know, penguins mate for life. Wanna be my penguin?
Klaus: Eh. I’ve always been more of an iguana man.
Diego:
Diego:
Diego:
Diego: What?
#45: You Look Like… Antonio Banderas With The Long Hair.
Diego: How’s the most beautiful person in the world doing today?
Klaus: *buried in a Vogue magazine* I don’t know I’m not Antonio Banderas.
#46: What The Fuck Klaus
Diego: Do you have a map? I keep getting lost in your eyes.
Klaus: *hands him a Candyland board* Here. I stole it from Pogo.
#47: You Dumbass
Diego: I hate my last name. Can I borrow yours?
Klaus:
Klaus:
Klaus:
Klaus: We have the same last name, Diego.
Diego: *blinks*
Diego: Fuck you’re right -
#48: Okay But Diego Would Make A Great Aladdin Though
Diego: I’m not a genie, but I can still make your dreams come true.
Klaus: *wrinkles his nose*
Klaus: You can get me a pink elephant with jaundice?
Diego: *blinks*
Diego: What the fuck Klaus -
#49: HELLO
Diego: Is that a knife or are you just happy to see me?
Klaus: I don’t just have random knives on me Diego, I’m not you.
Diego: So you are happy to see me?
Klaus: I mean you just interrupted a very riveting episode of Sesame Street, so… we’ll see.
#50: It’s Always Best To Start With The Truth.
Diego: I love you.
Klaus: *beams* That’s all you had to say, darling.
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writtenbeginnings · 3 years
Text
Dimitri Belikov x Rosemary Hathaway -  Spirit
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Title: Spirit Word Count: 2080 Rating: General (for now?) Genre: AU,  Triggers: None for now
Fandom: Vampire Academy Relationship: Dimitri Belikov x Rosemary Hathaway
Authors Note: Okay so! Thanks for the read guys, this was a work I started back in like 2015 i think from a prompt I received for another fandom I write for. I don't know whether to leave this as a little one shot and end it here, or maybe continue into a longer piece? Let me know what you think as I would love to hear!!
Rose liked to think that she was intelligent, and she was. She had gone to school, graduated and then moved onto college, did her three years and opened her own bar with her best friend's husband. However this evening, Rose was questioning her intellect. The six inch killer black heels that had been ‘so freaking awesome’ at the start of the evening were now causing her all sorts of problems. She hadn’t been expecting to be bussing it behind the bar, it was meant to be her night off to deal with the paperwork; which actually meant she spent the night drinking and watching their patrons from the two way glass above the bar, laughing her ass off.
Though as the afternoon rolled on more and more of their staff started calling in sick, it seemed a bug was floating around. Said bug had taken out everyone apart from her and Christian and a couple other of their staff. So now she was behind the bar, bitching about the fact her feet were killing her. Tonight was turning out to be one of their busiest nights since opening. Spirit; a club she and Christian Ozera had brought to life about a year before. It had only been in the last few months that they began to regularly hit the black on the books.
Rose blew back the long curling strands of her dark hair back from her face, deciding that she couldn’t be arsed to look hot and instead needed it off her face. She swept the dark mass of curls up from her face and neck and tied it into a messy bun upon her head, rolling her neck at the air which brushed against her skin. “Christian!” Her voice bellowed over the thump thump thump of the bass from the music. “We need more Redbull, a crate of JD and that sweet cheap shit the students like!” She looked down the bar to her partner in crime. A man she once couldn’t stand, to now actually liking if only a little. 
She could see the huff of air he expelled just from the way his body moved. She grinned, only Rose Hathaway could get under Christian Ozera’s skin so easily. “What the fuck does it look like I’m doing?” He snapped, Rose saw the movement of his lips more than actually heard him. “Why don’t you actually fucking work and get it yourself?” His head snapped up with his words and the brunette could see the curl of his lips. She flipped the man's finger and eyed the mob of customers. If she didn’t get it they would have issues on their hands. 
Grumbling and snipping under her breath she kicked the shoes off under the bar and breathed a sigh of relief, the best idea she had had all night. She made a ‘one moment’ gesture towards the ground and darted off towards the stockroom loading up a couple of crates of everything she needed, carrying as much as she could and kicking the rest along the floor in front of her. Once Christian rejoined her in the actual serving of their customers, instead of beating the til into submission, things began to ease. They were able to make it through the throng of party-goers hammering on the bar and now she was faced with the cool expression of a tall brunette with a hopeful expression. 
“What’d you want?” Rose stopped in front of him, having to tip her head back a little to get a good look at his face. Sharp lines and eyes that seemed never ending and glittering under the dancing lights of the club. 
“A job?” He raised an eyebrow; yes, just the one, and eyed her carefully waiting on a response. 
“Are you being serious?” Rose eyed the man, taking in the attire of a tight fitting back shirt, black jeans and what appeared to be a duster? Is that what they were called, those long black leather jackets that must have felt like a million degrees in the club. 
“Deadly.”
“Get your ass behind here now then, let’s call it a trial.” Rose made decisions on the fly, always had, it was what made her and Christian such a good team. She took the risks and he was there to level her out every now and then. She slammed her hand down onto the counter, stepping back to give the man room to jump over the counter and join them if he was serious. She watched his eyes light up and then the way his lithe body leaped over the counter in one agile movement. Rose grabbed the man a towel and threw it at his chest, it caught it quickly, stuffing it into his back pocket. “Figure it out and get served, drinks are programmed on the till, Christian will fix it if it goes AWOL.” She waved a hand down towards where Christian was once again in the process of hammering his hand on top of the piece of failing technology. “List what we’re serving, enjoy.” She flung a hand towards the drinks list tapped down on the lower bar and then was gone, dancing her way down towards the other end of the bar to serve. 
“Christian!” Christian called out offering up his name as her new employee came towards him. 
“Dimitri.” The other man offered in return, still staring wide eyed down towards Rose. “Is she always that ... crazy?”
“Always.” Christian laughed back, grabbing the money of a woman and then handing her change back. “She’s a free spirit,” he added, making up a tray of shots. “Get moving man, it’s wild tonight and if you want a job afterwards show us you’re not a waste of time.”
Dimitri moved after that, occasionally stopping to ask Rose and Christian questions when needed, but otherwise it was all pretty simple. He had been working in clubs for years now, but he had never found one to settle into, he worked for a few months at a time and then moved onto a new one. The thing about New York, and even Novosibirsk and Omsk was that there was never a shortage of nightclubs. 
It came to about 2am and there was a short while where things went quiet at the bar. Dimitri watched as the brunette he still didn’t know the name padded barefoot towards him, beers in hand. “You like you could use this.”
“Rose by the way.” She saluted him with her bottle and then took a long drink, draining half the bottle. They stood in the door leading out into a back alley, enjoying the brush of cool air filtering in. 
“Dimitri.” 
“So Dimitri.” Rose answered, rolling the name over her tongue as she thought about it for a moment. “Is that a Russian accent I hear?” Dimitri nodded, not adding anymore as he stepped out to serve a couple. Rose watched him from her spot in the doorway. He moved easily, like he wasn’t wasting a single ounce of energy with unneeded movement. Everything is precise and controlled. As she watched him she began to wonder if everything he did was so precise and controlled. It wasn’t a massive leap to make, he was walking sex appeal. Tight, black clothes; it was the male equivalent to a little back dress. 
“Been in the US for a couple years now,” he answered, turning back to her after leaving the money with Christian. He disturbed her from her train of thought, which probably wasn’t a bad idea since she was thinking about jumping his bones.Rose just nodded her head as she watched the crowd. 
It gave Spirit’s new hire the perfect opportunity to take in his hopefully new boss. He started at the floor, noticing the way she was barefoot. He had seen a pair of heels kicked haphazardly under the bar earlier that evening and now it made sense. His eyes trailed up and he took in the toned bare legs, leading to the incredibly tight black shorts which hugged her ass, oh so wonderfully. Her stomach was exposed, along with her hips and waist from the waist coat she wore. It appeared it was the only thing she was wearing aside from the red lace bra underneath. The whole ensemble was a definite turn on for him. He was going to continue using his time wisely to take it in, however when his gaze reached ehr face he could see her eyes on him. 
“See something you like, Comrade?” A smirk curled at her lips and she arched a little more provocatively against the door jam.
“Rose!” Christian’s shout drew their attention away from each other and they followed his hand to where he was pointing. 
 “One night, just night,” she hissed, dropping her beer onto the bar top and then leaping over the bar itself. She dodged through the crowd and got into the middle of where two guys were fighting and a woman was crying near them. Of course it's over some girl. “Alright break it up guys!” she bellowed, moving to step in between them. One of them threw a punch and it wasn’t aimed at Rose, she was just in the wrong place, it still collided with her. 
“Son of a bitch!” Turning unphased by the hit she slammed her fist into his face, ultimately knocking him out. Rounding on the other guy, who now stood there with his hands up she spoke. “Are you next?” she threatened clenching her fist at her side. He shook his head and took a few steps back away from her. “That’s what I thought, get ‘em all outta here,” she shouted towards the bouncers who were now coming in to see what was happening. 
Dimitri watched from behind the bar as Rose got clipped by the flying fist, he had moved to go and help but Christian stopped him. 
“Rose can handle herself and she will only be more pissed if you step in,” he spoke as softly as he could in a blaring club watching the torn expression on Dimitri’s face. He could see that he didn’t think it was right letting her handle it alone, but the look of surprise and smugness showed him that Rose had now knocked the guy out without even looking in her direction. 
“Now that’s hot,” Dimitri groaned, blowing out a long breath as he watched Rose lay out the guy and then turn on the other. After that things cleared up pretty quick the three of them were herded out by the bouncers and Rose was heading back towards them. Christian only laughed and went back to serving. “Ice?” he offered, dropping a handful into a towel and passing it to her.
“And vodka.” Rose added, pulling herself up to sit on the bar. She swiveled around so her feet were hanging on the inside and her back was to the crowd. 
Dimitri poured her vodka then handed it over. “Let me look,” he said, touching the hand that held the ice to her head. She pulled it away and he could already see the bruise forming, she would have a headache in the morning. “You do realise you’re meant to move out of the way of flying fists?” he teased, letting her put the ice back. 
“Shut up,” she glared, kicking him in the stomach with her foot. He caught it and held onto it. They stared at each other, he was smiling and Rose just wasn’t sure what she was doing. Her breathing had hitched when his hand caught her and the spark she felt was real. They’re gazes were caught and neither of them were breaking eye contact. Her skin felt like fire under his touch, such an easy, platonic touch was driving her wild and never had she felt such desire for a man. 
“Rose! Stop eye fucking the Russian and help me out!” Rose snapped her head to Christian’s direction, spotting the fact that all of a sudden most of the club had decided to come and get a drink all at the same time. She huffed a sigh, pulled her foot from Dimitri’s grasp and hopped off the bar. 
“Time to get moving Comrade.” Rose grinned, throwing the man a wink as she sauntered off down the bar, stopping at the first group of students and taking note of their order. 
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vivifrage · 2 years
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oooh “Your name could be an acronym for stupid”, just anything involving Drifter
Ough... one of the Traveler's chosen clowns...
---
He couldn't say the ride back from the Tangled Shore was anything like, oh, easy. Or pleasant. Or, hell, luxurious would be nice. No, he got none of that normal 'smuggling an alien crime lord to new turf' crap.
It was, on the other hand, plenty entertaining.
The Spider was a particular, nay, pernicious kind of guest. Or host, depending on how you wanted the guy who lent the ship then spent his time draped on a couch, organizing bounties and rendezvous-es so long as he had a connection back to his boys.
The Drifter had to try not to grin and laugh when he overheard the Spider giving a real earful to whatever poor sap had damaged one of the Servitors when unhooking it from whatever cow milking - nah, Ether collecting - device they had set up down low in the lair. Oh, Spider dressed his boy down to the bone for that one, ranting and raving about how he ran good business, how his associates trusted him to keep the Ether flowing. Even threw in a real heart-wrencher of a line about how these people had families to support, some of them. What kind of Eliksni was this foolish bastard, threatening these kids' meals? Why, he'd had the very Scribe of House Light bouncing on his knee once, would he deny her Ether because he took one trip and somebody fucked up?
Now, Drifter hadn't met the Scribe in the flesh, but he'd heard what she had to say about the Spider and, well, any knee-bouncing days were long gone as far as she was concerned. Not that he said anything on it. Not with the line open and him in range to get picked up. Couldn't break the illusion too soon.
As soon as that telltale click of hanging up sounded, though, he let that grin break out wide and gleeful. "So," he said, "You're running a family-friendly business, now are ya?"
The Spider scoffed, a glittering cloud of Ether puffing into the air. He flicked that chat window away, wrist snapping back fast enough Drifter heard the clack of carapace hitting carapace. "It would be a mistake to think people wouldn't bring their families," he retorted, "Not with the offer of safety, steady Ether, and my kindness."
"Mm-hmm." Drifter perhaps let the sound drag out real long.
The Spider's eyes crinkled; good money was on a scowl under that mask of his. "You've not known Kells, Human. Not like we have." The glare didn't recede, even as he settled back against the arm of the couch, all four hands looped loosely over his stomach. "Even Misraaks fled to me when his daughter was of docking age. He was quite young then, hardly less of a child than she was, but like still knew like. He saw in me the wisdom to break tradition and the charity to stay my hand rather than provide a... traumatic amputation."
He waggled his lower hands. If the Drifter looked closely, he thought he could still see a discoloration up near the shoulder, some warped aspects to the shell.
Drifter let his grin get lazy in that charming, no-worries way that made people let him get away with stuff. "You're a real pioneering, oh, what'd they say, Spider-kell, aren't you?"
Another scoff, this one deeper, fuller in the throat. The kind that threatened to hack up a lung, or at least a fair bit of spit and mucus to hock on someone's feet.
"Not right, huh?" Drifter folded an ankle across his knee and swiveled in the pilot's chair. He let a hand find his neck, lending that last little bit of support and devil-may-care attitude. "Yeah, that'd be a little clunky. That ain't the name your mama embroidered on your underwear, anyways, is it?"
Oh, the eyes narrowed til they almost shut, that time. His heart thumped hard, once, in his throat.
"For all your intents and purposes, I am the Spider."
Drifter held up a hand, palm out, and shook his head. "Now, if you dropped that name, I hear ya. But folks like you and me?" He gestured between them, meeting his eyes without blinking. "We don't do names so easy at all, do we? And I gotta say, this trip's been a real bonding experience, hasn't it? Let's make a game of it. Try and guess."
Drifter gestured to him again. "You, for example, look like a Marvin if I've ever seen one."
The pure, sour, unamused look on the Spider's face nearly made him split his sides laughing.
"No?" His hand drifted to his face, utterly useless in keeping down the grin spreading from ear to ear. "Louie, maybe."
The Spider tossed his head, dropping eye contact first to turn his attention back to his screens and the next trouble his boys wanted him to shoot. "Your name could be an acronym for stupid."
The Drifter howled, each laugh a sharp bark filling the ship. If the Spider had hair to stand on end, his helm hid it, but the way his shoulders hunched was prickly enough, and only made him laugh all the harder, lungs burning for air.
As the laughter faded and he gulped in nice, cool breaths again, the Drifter wiped a stray tear from the corner of his eye. Brows raised, he said, "Now, wouldn't that be something? Who's to say it's not?"
"Don't go changing this shit on me," Spider growled.
The Drifter just smiled, hands laced over his stomach as he spun this way and that. "It ain't changing if you never knew."
(Send me prompts!)
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let-it-raines · 3 years
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Have you listened to the new Taylor Swift album??? If not, go, go, go!!! But if so, I need a fic about Tis the Damn Season or Champagne Problems or Evermore or Cowboy Like Me! Or all of them, haha ❤️❤️❤️❤️
Nonnie, you’re asking me if I’ve listened to the new Taylor Swift album? Um, of course I have. lol. It’s a masterpiece. Here’s some Champagne Problems for you because I love a good sad song with a sort of happy ending 🥂 
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It’s cold when it happens.
Then it’s warm. There’s a flush to his cheeks and a tingling in his fingers, and all of the sudden the lights are blinding. A moment ago they were dark, almost too much, but now the spotlights are everywhere, hitting against sequins and champagne glasses and diamonds that blind him.
Well, one champagne glass.
And one diamond. Five if Killian’s more particular, but the one in the center is the most blinding. It was his mother’s, and he had it made into this ring, this ring that he spent months of his life crafting with the upmost precision and care.
This ring that he wanted to give to the woman he’s spent years of his life loving, the one he wants to spend the rest of his life loving. ‘Til death do them part as they saying goes, morbid and romantic all at once.
But now she’s standing and walking away, her dress and brunette hair flowing behind her, and somehow, he knows this will be one of the last times he sees her, his love, the echoes of her ‘no’ ringing in his ears forever. ‘Til death, he imagines, because Killian isn’t seeing anything romantic about this situation. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever want anything romantic again. As dust collects on the ring box, the echoes will ring forever.
Or at least for the next few months, which is faster than he thought. The echoes get quieter the more he distances himself from that ballroom and those champagne glasses, and after a year, his mind no longer conjures the echoes. Instead, it fills with new sounds, like the melody of her laugh, the pitch of her voice, the way her boots sound crunching against the snow on the pavement outside her apartment. It’s familiar in a way, but Killian knows this time, it’s different. She’s different.
Emma Swan.
He likes the way her name sounds on his tongue, the way her nose scrunches when he calls her by her surname, the way she argues over things like how to load the dishwasher. He likes that behind the tough exterior is a woman who cares more than she’d ever, well, care to admit. And over days and weeks and months of her laughter echoing in his head, he realizes he loves her. He never thought he’d love again, not after his first love walked away, but he does. He definitely does love Emma. All he needed was a little reminding that he wasn’t broken, that he could.
In the past, so much of his life was about having to show love through big gestures – chocolates, flowers, expensive dinners, nice jewelry. It was about how things looked, not how they felt, but with Emma, that’s not love. With Emma, it’s about him picking up takeout when she’s had a long shift, about her holding him when the anniversary of Liam’s death comes around, about the way she sometimes manages to load the dishwasher the way he likes and not her disorganized way with the spoons and forks all mixed together. It’s about her laugh and her smile, about his too. It’s about the way that he’s happy for the first time in a long damn time. She makes him feel content, and not like he’s in a constant search for what will next bring a smile to his face. He’s found that in so many aspects of his life, but especially with her.
So the next time he gets down on one knee, there are no glasses of champagne, no crowded ballrooms, and no glittering dresses. There is, however, a pair of pajama pants that were once his falling from her hips, a half-drunk mug of hot chocolate on the coffee table, and the sounds of the television behind them. Mostly, though, there’s a smile on her face and a nod of her head, and the emerald looks perfect on her hand. He doesn’t notice that for long, though, because he’s too busy embracing Emma and knowing that he’ll have her to argue about dishwasher arrangements with for the rest of his life. ‘Til death do them part as they saying goes, morbid and romantic all at once.
It’s warm when it happens, and with her hand in his, he doesn’t think he’ll ever feel the cold again.
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