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mwahsturns · 4 days

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First choice // Matt Sturniolo Pt 1

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

Contains: cussing, fluff, flirting, talk of death, Semi-proof read! I think that’s it let me know if there’s more! Also if there’s any grammar or spelling mistakes please ignore them 😭🙏🏻

Synopsis: Y/n works at a record store and one day while she’s working two very cute guys walk into the store but one especially catches her eye and later so happens they end up having more then just there music taste in common ;)

Word Count:1,890

Author’s notes: Hii bbys !! <3, So I’ve never written a fic before or posted on tumblr, So I’m sorry if this is bad I’m new at this please go easy on me😭🙏🏻. If you guys have any suggestions, tips or advice please message me I hope you enjoy my new series!!, this took me a very long time to come up with so I hope you love it💗.

* *:･ﾟ✧💒*:･ﾟ✧

The sound of music always brought me peace, I work at a record shop because I love being around vinyls and just anything music related really. I also really enjoy reading It's always brought me a sense of comfort as well as writing and poetry. Honestly it makes me really happy, and ever since I was a kid I've always written songs and maybe sang a little bit but that’s a secret. I don't know what it is but I always feel like it helps me forget about everything that’s wrong in my life, my parents died when I was 16 so it’s always been just me and my two little brothers. I love them more than anything and I'd do anything for them. Today was just a regular day at work I was putting vinyls on the racks that they go on when two guys walk into the store, I look over and give them a soft smile.

‘hii welcome let me know if you need any help finding any artist or vinyl specifically’ they smile at me and nod as one of the boys catches my eye, I’m a very shy person so I decided not to say anything unless I needed to. After a couple minutes I felt a tap on my shoulder, I turned around and saw the guy who caught my eye standing in front of me. ‘hi um i wanted to ask you something’ he seemed very nervous but also very confident weird mix. ‘yes of course how can i help you’ I smiled softly at him hoping to make him more comfortable, ‘do you happen to have “circles” by Mac miller’ he says as he does a side smile. I smile at him as I think about how I also enjoy mac miller.

‘yea over here!’ i walk over and pull it off the rack, ‘this is one of my favorites’ i say chuckling, ‘i really like this one’ he says turning the vinyl around. ‘what other artists do you like?’ ‘i really like d4vd and um frank ocean oh! Omg Dominic Fike omg Tyler the creator?! is so amazing and oh my god i'm rambling im so sorry’ I blushed getting a little nervous, ‘nah you're good’ he smiles as I look up at him and smile softly. We stand there until the guy he came with comes up to him ‘woah you guys twins or am I dumb?’ ‘nahh triplets’ he says laughing ’oh cool” i say and start checking them out. ‘You're the first to not ask us a million and one questions about being triplets’ he chuckles, ‘yea nah y'all will tell me over time’ I smirk i say with my boston accent coming through a little.

‘oh so you plan on getting to know us’ he smirks a little ‘oh totally y’all look cool’ I laugh, ‘you're from boston?’ The other guy says noticing my backpack in the back with the Boston logo. ‘yes i am’ i laugh ‘us too!’ ‘What's your name?’ The guy who got my eye says ‘I’m y/n’ ‘cool im matt and hes chris’ ahh Matt hot guy hot name. ‘cool!’ I hand them the bag and me and Matt make eye contact, ‘have a good day’ ‘thanks you too’ matt says smiling at me. They walk out and i really hope i see them again.

* *:･ﾟ✧💒*:･ﾟ✧

I finally got to clock out of work It was so tiring and I needed to make sure my little brothers were ok. I get to my car and get settled in and connect my phone to the aux and play “Ivy” by Frank Ocean. I’m so glad to be going home I think as I started driving I decided that I was gonna pick up a pizza for my little brothers because I got paid today and I know how much they love pizza. We aren't broke completely but we definitely struggle sometimes recently things have been rough but I finally got a promotion so it's getting a little easier I got the pizza and started heading home I got home and when i opened the door and my brothers cody and alex run up to me and ‘sissyyyy we missed you’ alex says hugging me, ‘aww i miss you too bud’ ‘sissy you bought pizza!’ Cody says looking like his eyes are gonna pop out of his head.

i walk over to alexa who’s been my best friend for years, she helps me with my brothers and just around the house ‘thank you so much lex’ i say hugging her ‘Of course love that's what best friends are for’ she says smiling softly ‘wanna spend the night and when i put them to bed we can talk?’ ‘yeah okay sure’ Alexa smiles at me while i feed the boys.

I start to give the boys a shower and as i’m showering cody he looks up at me with the biggest smile on his face. ‘sissy I wanna be just like you when i grow up.’ He says playing with the bubbles, ‘aww little c i love you a lot bub and i know one day you’ll be even better than me’ i say tearing up, cody has always been more clingy to me than Alex is but not as much, cody doesn’t like to leave my side and he is the sweetest kid ever. Him saying he wants to be like me does hurt a little because I've been through a lot of shit but the fact that I look strong in his eyes makes up for it all. I put them to bed and Me Alexa got some wine and took a seat on the couch.

‘So how was your day?’ She says sitting next to me. ‘it was good omg lex these two really cute brothers came into the shop and oh my god girl’ I say blushing thinking of Matt ‘speaking of cute brothers you know the guy i was talking to?’ ‘yes why?’ ‘this is him and his brother I’d think you like him’ she turns her phone and pulls out a picture.

‘hold up hold up let me see that?!’ i say taking the phone from her ‘omg thats the cute guys that came in today’ ‘Omg?! yeah i've been talking to chris for a minute now’ ‘matt’s pretty attractive just sayin’ I couldn’t help myself but blush i don’t know what’s wrong with me fuck Y/N get it together. ‘oooo y/n has a crush?’ ‘oh shut the fuck up’ ‘oh come on you haven’t had a boyfriend since your parents died’ she says starting to get serious, ‘i know but my brothers mean the world to me lex i need to make sure there ok i don’t have the time’ I would love to give Matt a chance but i don’t know.

‘your brothers would want you to be happy y/n/n’ she says rubbing my knee, ‘I know but it's not about me being happy i need to make sure there happy i have to be a mother figure to them they need me’ ‘i get that babes but you need to remember you lost them too your only 20 rasing two kids you need to be a kid too especially since you were forced to grow up so quick’ i look at her and nod I mean I understand where she’s coming from but my brothers are all I know. ‘i love you y/n i'm just looking out for you ima head to bed goodnight love’ ‘night babes’ as she walks off and goes to into the guest room i kinda sit there think about what she said and i mean she's right but i can’t risk something happening to my brothers. I head upstairs and head to bed because i have another day of work but holy fuck thank god it's friday.

* *:･ﾟ✧💒*:･ﾟ✧

I woke up the next morning only because my alarm for work went off and i see it’s 9:44 so i know Alexa is getting my brothers ready for school I get out of the bed and i started to get ready for work. I finished getting ready for work when my younger brother Cody came into the room with tears in his eyes. ‘sis…’ he says in a sad tone I turned around quickly and scooped him into my arms ‘aww what's wrong love?’ i say concerned.

‘i don’t wanna go to school i wanna stay home with you can you please skip work..’ he says in a whiny tone, ‘Aww bub i wish i could help but you know the rules’ When i got custody of cody and alex the court gave me really strict rules to follow, i had to make sure they were always at school, they weren’t falling and that i kept a stable job and make enough money or else they would take them away. ‘I know but i hate being at school kids are mean to me and alex’ i look at him feeling bad but i don’t wanna risk losing them. ‘I’m sorry bub if i could keep you and alex with me 24/7 forever i would’ i say hugging him tightly.

* *:･ﾟ✧💒*:･ﾟ✧

i got to work over an hour ago and to say its boring is an understatement. Just as i think that i hear the bell ring meaning someone walked into the store, i look up ready to greet them and i realize its matt. ‘Matt? Hey’ i say smiling. ‘Hey um i know this might be weird but i um.. Well so my brother chris the one that was with me last time uh i found out that the girl hes been talking to happens to be your best friend right?’ ‘yeah shes my best friend’ ‘well um she kinda encouraged me to come back..’ ‘what do you mean?’ ‘well i uh wanted to see if you were willing to go out with me… you don’t have to its o-‘ he starts to say but i cut him off. ‘Sure why not’ i say smiling i don’t know what happened but he was too sweet for me to say no to.

‘Wait really?’ ‘yea i mean i can’t deny you are pretty cute..’ ‘well thank you’ he laughs damn something about the way he laughs i dont know but it feels almost addicting to listen to. ‘Uh are you free saturday?’ ‘yeah i am’ i smile ‘sweet! Ill text you’ ‘okay bye matt’ ‘bye” he blushed a little bit as he left the shop. Shit who’s gonna watch cody and alex?!

Author’s notes:heyyy I’m back! So I hope you enjoyed the first part of this series and I’m sorry if there was any typos, spelling mistakes, etc I’ll try to fix the ones I can if I miss anything please let me know but I hope you enjoy and have a great day 💋

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut

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ramonathinks · 4 months

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5 Husbands by @kingkonoha review contains spoilers under the read more

playlist of a lot of songs that i think fit the vibe of my reading experience and what i felt matched up with the story

Playlist: crack rock by frank ocean, dreamer and valentine by laufey, when im in your arms by cleo sol, ophelia by pinkpatherress, daydream by Ariana Grande, miss romantic by cleo sol, fall in by Esperanza spalding, rain by fauna hues, slow motion by karina pasian, sunshine cleo sol, k by cigarettes after sex, used to love by chloe x Halle, sunset by the internet, pain is inevitable by daniel caesar (fawk him), cinnamon girl by lana del rey , let me know by winona oak, lost by frank ocean, butterfly by corinne bailey rae, piano song by eryn allen kane, float by fauna hues, how does it make you feel by Victoria monet, ivy by frank ocean, step on me by the cardigans, sad girl by lana del rey, wet by dazey and the scouts, frank’s ballad (wiseman) by Alex mankoo, who gets your love by margie joseph, what it is, between the cheats, will you still love me tomorrow, the girl from ipanema by amy winehouse the entirety of amy winehouse back to black album, take the box by amy winehouse

General Review:

Just wow. I did in fact spend like all day reading this and I do not regret it and even though it’s not done… this is literally a 5/5 read. Firstly the way that my baby Tay writes is so phenomenal and the depictions of the relationships and the amount of emotions and thought they she puts throughout the story makes everything so worth it. I really felt so attached to the characters and the overall story like i didn’t care how long the chapters were because i was so interested in the world she build and the CHARACTERS. Like it just keeps getting better and better; the amount of drama and messy that kept me on my toes every chapter. I cannot wait for the next chapter. The amount of stuff that went down in this fic and the route it’s going down idek how she got the life depicted in the first chapter because it’s shit happening every second like whew. I literally got so emotional reading this especially the more recent chapters because my heart hurtssss for reader so bad and it’s just so much strain on her and idgaf that’s my girl! I support women’s wrongs and she got a lot of them but that’s my baby like omg!

Now let’s delve in to my reactions ofc 🙈

CHAPTER 1: okay so obsessed with the fact that reader has a daughter firstly. The way you describe reader’s relationship and the dynamic she has with Armin and even the shift to his pov was very seamless and perfectoooo. The way you got in his head and i feel immersed inside of his thoughts about her and i just thought it was really well written and so beautifully executed. “Being with you but not truly being with you was like having an itch that begged to be scratched.” Like that line right there? It burneddd me and make me feel for him and overall i got invested. Can I add that Armin working in a bakery was very on par with his character lol? Like i love it. Your description of anything is very addicting as well let me add, im a sucker for details so i loved it. I was cheesing DOWN during their moments and when he took her to their childhood hangout place and the hold “date” bit came up and the “but even so, the implication of romance with him felt as natural as breathing.” Likeeee omg i was blushing. “I was always planning on leaving, but…not without you.” Oh that moved me like bad. I’m a sucker for childhood friends to lovers and hearing them reminiscing and just wanting to move out of where they are to make a lifeee was so good. “Since when was he ever so lucky? Since when did fate decide to show him a little bit of pity and mercy? The universe had taken everything from him before he was even old enough to know how to spell the word “universe.”” UGHH you’re killing meeee. And then armin’s backstory stop 😞😞😞. WHEN ARMIN SAID HE WANTED TK MARRY HERRRR OH MY HEART like 😭 crying omg!! Munch Armin Agenda >>>>

Mikasa Cameo yesss. Armin sending reader money 🥲🥲 even though he’s literally going through it ugh, my loveee. The proposal and reader finally getting her steak & lobster please love that for themmmm. Eren… pmo!! … “What they loved more, however, was the fact that he never took his eyes off of you the entire time.” 😄😄😁😁 oh okayyy, don’t know who im rooting for after eren two second cameo. “Nowadays, you had seen more of him than your own husband, and that broke your heart into pieces.” Naurrrrr 🥲 please… ““Is it ‘cause we’re all alone, baby?”” Eren… ERENNN R YOU KIDDING ME MOVEEE like moveee “Can’t control yourself when it’s just us, can you?” MOVEEE

“If you were with me, you’d only be making money for yourself. No one else, baby. It’ll take you wherever you wanna go, buy you whatever want, fuck you however you want. You’d like that, right?” OH FAUK YEWWW, but … omg that’s sexy like please don’t piss me off😭😭

OH FAWK HERR??? FAWK HER MY GODDESSS IS READER SERIOUS RN?? FAWK HER SO BAD FOR THIS IDC

CHAPTER 2: “It was an indisputable fact; scientists measured the elements of his face and declared the handsome man as the literal definition of physical perfection.” Oh that ate !

Eren defending reader yesss #RealMan . “Still though, it’s Eren. Same man who took you away from the person you’re writing about. There’s no way he’d be okay with this.” Jean clocked her im sorry LMAOO??

“You were more than just a pretty face. You were more than just a lovely voice. You were a distraction.” Real… so real.

“You’re such a damn jerk,” Jean snapped. “You can’t take everything you want like you rule the goddamn world, Eren. You stole her away from her ex-husband, but no one’s allowed to steal her away from you, right? Not until you get tired of her and move on to someone else?” CLOCKED LMAKDKA CAUSE WHY WAS I LITERALLY THINKING THE SAME THING LIKE PLEASE MOVE LMAOOO

“Is it true that your ex-husband pushed for your success? And you left him for Eren Yeager?” JEAN MIGHT AS WELL THAT BEEN THE ONE TO ASK THAT BECAUSE INTREEVIEWER CLOCKEDSD HER ! Marriage 😞 please move 👎🏾 why they just pissed me off. J-JEAN ! SIR!!

“Well now, Sarah, there is the possibility that she could have been having an affair! She did leave her first husband for Eren. Who’s to say that she wouldn’t leave Eren for someone else?” THEY CLOCKING HER 😭😭😭😭😭😭 back to back!

Reader locking down all the munches like that’s queen right there! “It was the first time you had ever slept next to him without his arms wrapped around you.” 😞😞 and Jean leaving the band omg… Levi so real lmaoooo

JEAN SO MESSY??? EREN COMING OMG?? EREN ACTUALLY BEING THEREEE OH MY GOSH PLEASE MOVE!!! “But, apparently, all of it was stupid. He felt stupid as he stood there, watching his best friend kiss and touch you. He felt stupid as he thought about the day he proposed to you. He felt stupid as he thought about how much he loved you.” Naur… MY GOSH READER SO ??? she done pissed me off!

CHAPTER 3:

Mikasa clocking her 😁😁🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️ karma x3 and “i want him back” and “that’s not the same thing” LMAOO CLOCKED! LIKE GOT HER

“I didn’t even know that Eren was there! He was avoiding me for weeks a-and said he wasn’t gonna show up. I fucked up, I know that, but he stopped speaking to me. Stopped looking at me. He acted like I didn’t exist…and I was fucking lonely.” She kinda ate idk she back to winning me over. FAWK EREN 😭😭😭

Levi…is he crazy telling her to come with him?? 😭😭😭 like he finna get fucked up about her too is he MAD? “You’ve fooled around with three guys back to back. It’s a little hard to tell which one of them you like the most.” FUCK CLOCKED HER SKSJSK ?? “You’re a homeless woman who’s sleeping at her manager’s house because she cheated on a famous rockstar with his bandmate.” Levi it’s 10am in the morning 😭😭😭😭 please chill. “Last thing I need is for the public to start making rumors about us.” He so damn funny lmaoo

“Yes. Men like Eren and Jean took pure advantage of your naiveness. If you ask me, you should have been the one doing the punching. Don’t sit back and let them walk all over you.” Okayy Annie period queen.

“The singer with more failed relationships than original songs.” 😭😭😭 i be giggling down like the industry is clocking herrrrr bad

Annie and Sasha correct actually 🤷🏽‍♀️ coming from the uno champ myself. “Did I just make you laugh? And smile?” 👀 he better relaxxx he see the reader effect !

Not even divorced and literally got a meeting and kissing on Reiner like 😭 is she mad??

CONNIEEEE??? I AINT EVEN PWEP

“Gonna punch me too? Try it. Go ahead. Do it, and let’s see what fucking happens.” CLOCKED! Lmaoooo

Hickey… why i already knew something like that was gonna go down. Broke my baby heart omg 😞!

“If you loved him, you wouldn’t have cheated on him. If you loved me, you wouldn’t have left me. So you’re still fucking lying.” Armin just came back and clocking her lmaoooooo “I think it’s easier for you to act like you’ve never cared about anyone than it is to take responsibility for your actions. It’s less painful to pretend that you’re completely the victim in this situation than it is to accept that you broke my heart. Eren and Jean’s heart as well. I’m not saying that anyone is in the right or wrong, but I know you. I know you loved me, even if it was just a little bit.” Tea… like girl it’s okay.

CHAPTER 4:

Connie is crazyyy 😭😭? “You know your life is in my hands” & “don’t make me do some easy shit” OHH he crazy

Marco…. Yo?? And they wondering why Connie went mad like be serious.

Arminnn, glad to see he okayish. “You never thought he’d use it on you.” Welllll?? The love of his life fucked him over 😭😭😭 um be serious.

“I love you, and I understand what money and influence can do to a person, but I just miss you. I miss the old you, the person who made everyone laugh during card games and didn’t treat everyone like garbage.” 🙂🙂🙂 ohhh he clocked her this like one of the worst ones.

“No ordinary human being enjoyed the realization that they had changed for the worse. It felt like your insides were twisting up, as if the old version of yourself was begging to come out, buried underneath this new, shallow, perfect celebrity.” ☹️☹️☹️ nooo queenie.

“You’re so in love with Hollywood now, I didn’t think you’d come at all if I told you the truth.” 😟😟 oh um! this is crazy to say ?? why even invite her at all lmaoo??

Reiner’s place is so lived in and loved around like your description really got me cause I can feel it all around and buzzing so lively whew i felt home! Reiner is EXACTLY the type of man who would bring you to meet the family and to propose so i smiledddd because yes just yes!

Jean messy as HELL! THE BREAK IN IS CRAZY AND HER JUST ASSUMING ITS ARMIN

HER SUCKING LEVI IS CRAZY???? MARRIED FOR HALF A SECOND IS SHE MAD?? LEAKED PHOTOS AND ALL THAT IS CRAZY AFTER THE BREAK IN OMG??? 😭😭😭 she cannot catch a break, she been famous for like maybe 2 years what is her problem.

CHAPTER 5:

ARMIN AND EREN GETTING JUMOED BY CONNIE MEN IS SO INSANEEEE. Levi OKAYYY king shitttt yesss. Why is Connie so messy?? Why is he trying to ruin her like omg…

“Y/N’s the only client you give a damn about now. You don’t even give a damn about yourself. Your life is ruined, and yet, here you are, worrying about her.” CLOCKED LMAOO?? JEAN BE CLOCKING EVERYONE LIKE LMAOOO

Album called Heartbreaker, she kinda mother for that 😹😹 like literal queen shit. The story… my eyes almost popped out my head like okay.. Not jean and eren popping out yo! Um Connie and Flint is so…messy for all this. They really getting a personal fuck you.

😹😹 Eren just clocked Flint like I hope he don’t get beat up later but he ate. OH MY GOSH?? What the fuck is wrong with Connie yo?? He can’t hate eren this bad like he’s literally a monster….

NAH READER STFU?? BEFORE HE GET SOMEONE TO WHOOP YOUR ASS TOO LIKE OMG?? BUT WHY SHE VERY MUCH SO CLOCKED HIM LIKE IM GIGGLINGGG 😭😭😹😹 GET HIM AGAIN!

Someone gotta kill Connie like wtf is his problem and to even threaten Levi and the way he doing reader, not even letting her see Reiner… like i feel for her so bad omg. Why is he ruining her lifeeee omg ?? Like im finna cry ??? And then to do that to Reiner :((( omg i feel for everyone in here omg

NAH CAUSE LEVI RIGHT ACTUALLY?? LIKE CONNIE IS LITERALLY OBSESSED WITH HER!

Them being worried about who she gonna end up with is kinda crazy like she being held hostage 😭😭? Thank you Levi for getting them back in order. WHY REINER JUST CLOCKED ALL OF THEM LIKE LITERALLY ALL OF THEM LMAOOOO

CHAPTER 6:

ERWIN JUST FUCKED EVERYTHING UP ??? YO??

“She doesn’t have any loved ones, just a bunch of stupid guys hoping to crawl into bed with her. That’s all she’s good for.” Alright?? Fuck you??

CONNIE SHOOTHIM HIM IS MADDDD OMG

The car ride having me on the edge of my seat just paragraphs in. Connie trying to do small talk like please move…

“Because that would mean leaving, and you knew better.” I’m crying like idgaf she don’t deserve none of this 😭😵‍💫😵‍💫???

“Really? You’re working on your eighty-seventh marriage and you wanna lecture me about being a good person? You cheat and get remarried every season, so shut the hell up.” He tried to clock her but it’s tired at this point so 😭😭😭 please gtfo. Connie trying to be lonely too he can get out like i really dgaf.

Nah Reiner clocked it… I wasn’t even seeing Mikasa fr until he just said that because yes I can see it fr! Like wowww. This Mikasa and Reiner conversation is >>> like i love it.

Poor reader like idgaf, she did that to keep them safe obviously! Why would Jean just say that to eren tb licking connie’s boots like his mom’s life was at risk please ??😭😭😭

THE ENDINGGGG OMG??? I canttttt

#໒꒰ྀི⸝⸝ɞ̴̶̷ ·̫ ɞ̴̶̷⸝⸝꒱ྀི১ tea time

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ussrosalind · 4 months

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Coronet Indigo Ibarra Runaway Royals Campaign Air Genasi Life Cleric

Current Level: 8 Age: 27 Height: 5'7" Pronouns: he/him Character Song: Like A River Runs - Bleachers Status: Enjoying the Sunset

Likes: birds, herbalism, magic, griffons, Dasnar, secrets, fancy clothes Dislikes: bullies, being put on the spot, losing people Hobbies: griffon riding, gossiping, letter writing Talents: healing, visions of death, looking sleepy

Indigo Ibarra is a life cleric, devoted to a god of life and death, who is haunted by visions of death. He's a hopeless romantic despite this. He is also extremely nosy. He might does have a crush on his god. He might does also have a crush on his best friend. He might does also have a crush on this one totally normal guy we met briefly on the road. He is in love with the Princess of Grad, Agathe, who is none of these other people. Don't worry about it.

Last Updated 1/5/2024

Twelve years ago, Indigo's younger sibling, Coronet Wioletta, went missing in the gardens-- shortly after he refused to investigate a door with them because he was reading. The Sky-City has not moved from the mountains near the Winter Sea since that day.

Indigo's first visions came to him at his first ball, nine years ago, where he had a massive vision of the ballroom slipping into a battlefield and nearly all the young persons in attendance dying. Needless to say, this did not make him very popular at parties. Or, well, it might have but he withdrew to try and sort himself out. Shortly after he had his first proper contact with Dasnar, god of life and death, who had given him these visions. His next visions proved to play out more quickly, unfortunately, and Indigo's next prophecy was of his mother, Crown Bianca, falling from the sky when out on a griffon. Despite Indigo's begging, Bianca insisted on carrying out her duties and it did, indeed, come to pass. He was isolated almost completely after that. That was eight years ago.

Six months ago, he left the city entirely having had visions of one of his older siblings, Coronet Jasmine, dying ill and not much older than she was at that moment. Scared, he had consulted with his brother, Coronet Ivy, and decided to leave and try to learn to cope with and possibly control his prophetic powers. He left notes for Coronet Jasmine, asking her to please look out for herself, and to his parent, Crown Azul, promising to return when he had a better handle on things so they would not worry that they had completely lost another child.

While in the Great Wood, Indigo found Kora on the forest floor, asleep, with the plant life of the forest actively trying to grown over him. Indigo managed to wake the sleeper and they traveled together from that point on.(During their travels, it would come to light that Kora was also royalty in a very strange way. He was a prince of Mina, now the City of Smoke, 300 years ago before getting turned into a tree.)

More recently, while staying at the Eventide Inn-- which travels!-- he was reunited with Coronet Wioletta. His sibling had, it turned out, been in the Feywild the whole time and had returned, shortly after his leaving court, and was looking for him. They had met up with Katina, Princess of Sura, who was on the run having been accused of her brother's murder. By this time they had all also fallen in with Friz, aka Prince Atama of the City of Smoke, who was on some sort of mission that involved taking directions from a floating penguin (with teeth?!) named Pablo Banana Bread.

As all roads seemed to be pointing towards Eska, Indigo's home, the party began traveling together.

#meet rosa's ttrpg characters #indigo ibarra

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yourivygrows13 · 1 year

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A non-exhaustive list of songs I will actually lose my mind over if I see them live in no order (that she hasn’t already played RIP state of grace and this is me trying)

Ivy (my absolute favorite song) this one hurt ngl

Cowboy like me

Out of the Woods

Holy ground (I still cannot believe this happened to me like WHAT)

Better man

Clean

Evermore

Long story short

Maroon

Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve

Your On Your Own Kid

Question…?

The Great War

I almost do

Begin again

I bet you think about me

FOREVER AND ALWAYS (HELL YEAH)

Haunted

Back to December

Mine

Mean

You all over me

Gold rush (missed by a day are you kidding me rn)

Coney Island

Cornelia street

Long live

THIS LOVE (GOT IT BABY)

Exile

The story of us

NOTHING NEW (x3 in Philly and MetLife!)

Dear John*

Last Kiss*

A non exhaustive list of songs I’d be over the moon thrilled about but likely wouldn’t have to seek medical attention afterward if she played them live in front of my face

Closure

No body no crime

Mad woman

The 1 ???

Cold as you

Picture to burn

All You Had To Do Was Stay

I know places

Death by a thousand cuts

Sparks fly

Speak now

Treacherous (thank god I saw this as one of my secret songs on the rep tour or I would be CRUSHED rn)

The last time (But not as a duet) (lol at Taylor doing it solo because like obviously she would but that’s the correct way)

Come back…be here (also missed this by a day)

New Romantics

I wish you would

New Year’s Day

Dancing with our hands tied

Labyrinth

Peace

Happiness

Right where you left me

The lakes

High infidelity

Mr. Perfectly fine

Wonderland

Everything else I will be extremely excited about and overjoyed to be experiencing but I’ve either seen live already OR is a song I won’t know I’ll be moved to tears by hearing live yet OR just isn’t a favorite

*I can’t see these being played until late in the tour. Especially since how hard they were for her to perform on the SN tour. I know she’s far removed from it now but I still think she’ll save them for later

**I don’t think she’ll play soon you’ll get better at all for obvious reasons. And I don’t think she’ll play better than revenge.

As she plays the ones I’ve listed I’m going to strike them out

And Taylor if you see this feel free to save Ivy for 5/13, 5/14, or 5/27 k thanks

#this will be a fun little game for me lol #taylor swift #the eras tour #the eras era #ts the eras tour #midnights #evermore #folklore #lover #reputation tv #1989 tv #red tv #speak now tv #fearless tv #taylor swift tv #taylor nation #taylurking

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hoppipolla · 11 months

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Thank you for tagging me Na @athousandbyeol <3

I don’t use Spotify so I can’t use the receiptify template ><

I still can list my top 10 most listened songs of May so here you go:

1. Save Me, Kill Me by CIX (this song came out two days before the end of May but I had it on repeat ever since it was released so it ended up being my most listened song of May >< The same goes for the rest of the songs in the album which also made it to my top 10.)

2. Any by Stray Kids

3. Dear my by Spectrum

4. Adore you by B14A

5. Gold by The Ivy

6. HaPpY by HAN (from Stray Kids)

7. Curtain Call by CIX

8. Back to life by CIX

9. Color by CIX

10. what is LoveE? by B14A

Tagging @ueasking and @thefearhas if you feel like doing it :) No pressure though!

Here’s the link to the template.

#ask game #thanks again for tagging me Na! Hope you’re doing well 🥰

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red-eft · 10 months

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for the ask meme - 1, 7, 10, 12, 24 aand 30 for adonis and ivy !

thank you for the ask! :>

adonis

1. does your oc have any motifs?

yep! his motifs are the night sky (secrecy), gold (royalty; his noble house), gunpowder (his weapon of choice is a pistol), and beetles- specifically dynastinae, because [redacted spoilers] :)

7. what is the thing your oc likes most about themselves?

he doesn’t like it at first, but he gets used to the traits of [redacted creature] that his body gains, he starts to like it. he feels stronger and more "himself." the traits his body gained include scale-like growths along his forearms, claws, a tail, improved sight, and sharper teeth.

he learns how to shapeshift these traits, too. he gets good at making himself stronger or prettier with them however he wants wjldsflk

10. what kind of music do they enjoy?

oh man. i've never thought about what the music in my post-apoc setting is like.. i'm just gonna go with modern music for now. he'd enjoy indie stuff..? maybe?

throwing a few songs out here that i could see him listening to: "the physical attractions" by the symposium, "i think i left the stove on" by hotel ugly, and "drive away" by the brummies/kacey musgraves. he's not used to super loud/energetic music, but he doesn't like music that's purely instrumental/too calm, either. he associates it with bad memories from growing up with that kind of music.

12. how well does your oc do in school?

adonis does okay. he might slack off in class or procrastinate his work, but at the end of the day, he gets it together well enough to pass. he might cheat during a test or two.

24. how does your oc handle the death of someone they know?

poorly. he runs away from it, both physically and metaphorically.

30. does your oc wish to be married someday?

he's not big on marriage. growing up, adonis was always told that he would be married off to someone from another noble house. that never happened, fortunately, but he still dislikes the idea of being tied to another person.

---------- ivy

1. does your oc have any motifs?

oh absolutely. her motifs are bones (death), the trefoil symbol (dark magic/radiation), the color green (associated w/ dark magic in my setting, also nature since she becomes a ranger, too). also mourning doves (associated with resilience in grief. also bc her last name is macroura).

7. what is the thing your oc likes most about themselves?

she loves that she's basically born to use dark magic (elven ability to use it + human resistance that elves lack). most half-elves don't inherit both those traits at once, which makes her very unique.

it really amuses her when she thinks about it. it makes her feel like she's doing "what she was meant for" when she studies dark magic.

10. what kind of music do they enjoy?

again, going to go for a modern music since idk anything about music in my world (rip).. she would definitely listen to mitski and lord huron. yes i am projecting this on her. but it fits her

12. how well does your oc do in school?

very well! if you put her, adonis, lorne, and cordelia in a classroom together, ivy would come out on top (though cordelia would be close). she performs especially well in science and history classes.

24. how does your oc handle the death of someone they know?

depends on the circumstances. if someone was sick for a long time, ivy will be accepting of it when it happens. she'll try to help everyone else feel better.

but if the death is unexpected, violent, or she's right there (or all three), ivy will lose herself in anger. if someone murdered her father in front of her, for example, then she would immediately try to kill the murderer using any means possible (such as acts of dark magic that she would normally be horrified to even consider using. spell of hemorrhage your lungs, etc.)

30. does your oc wish to be married someday?

yeah! she wants to marry cordelia.

#asks #matchlocks #thank u again for the ask! feeling very inspired to work on my story now ^^#i'm going to go think about music in my post-apoc world now! also languages bc i've been meaning to do that for a while #also the lung-hemorrhage spell is a joke. it's not an actual spell that exists (though ivy could easily figure out how to do it anyways)#c:adonis #c:ivy

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i-kvr · 1 year

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He's a Butcher with a Smile (Ivy Chronicles #4)

[x] [Full work available on AO3] << #1: A7 | << #2: The Bet | << #3: A7 #4: He's a Butcher with a Smile

_______________________________________________

Chapters: 1/1 Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Minho, Thomas

Summary: Based on the song Tear in My Heart, by Twenty One Pilots.

_______________________________________________

Sometimes you gotta bleed to know

I believe people say that when you’re close to your death, you see your life flash before your eyes. I don’t have a clear memory of hearing anyone in particular say that, of course, but I feel like I can almost remember this being true. And I must say I discovered this saying to be very real.

that you’re alive and have a soul

When I stepped into the Maze and heard the loud thud of the Doors closing behind me, it was like I could feel my senses getting sharper. Immediately after making the decision I was at the verge of regretting it, but at the first glance around I remembered why I made it.

But it takes someone to come around

He was there, gasping, staring at me in disbelief. “You’re as good as dead,” he told me. He was probably right. I wanted to convince myself that I didn’t care, that it didn’t matter, that it didn’t scare me. It did scare me.

to show you how

But I couldn’t leave him there, I just couldn’t. I didn’t think, I just acted. He was the one person that made me feel alive ever since I got out of that Box. When I woke up in the dark container, all I could feel was numbness. But he broke me out of it. He made me want to leave that place more than anything else. Probably because I wanted to see him out of that hell.

He's the tear in my heart, I'm alive

I hadn’t been stung at that point yet, but I felt like I could understand the oddness in those who had been through the Changing. The numbness, the disinterest in life. They just went by, carrying their own weight, just trying to get by another day. Who’s to judge? There isn’t much in life in the Glade to make you enthusiastic about living. But I had found something. Someone. I felt alive when I was with him; I wanted to live. So yes, maybe I was as good as dead when I stepped into the Maze at the last second, but if he was to die while I survived for another day in the Glade… a day without him… The very thought strengthened my resolve.

He's the tear in my heart, I'm on fire

In a way, he got me out of the Maze more than I got him out. He was the one who made me have it in me to get us through that night. It was all for him. And he continued to do it after that night. When we left the Maze altogether; when we discovered that the real world we wanted to come back to so badly didn’t exist anymore; when we faced those endless miles of burning Scorch; when it dawned upon us that we would have to cross it.

He's the tear in my heart, take me higher

Each step I took, with each burning breath I took in, burning my insides, it was all possible because I had him by my side. All I needed to do was look at him, and see him looking back at me and I had strength to take one more step forward. All it took was seeing his smile, like nothing was wrong, like all was well in the world. He had that power.

Than I’ve ever been

It still wonders me how he managed to do that. How he could stay calm, or at least seem to be calm. He never admitted, but I know deep inside that he made himself look calm for the group’s sake. For my sake. He knew he had to be a solid rock so the group wouldn’t fall apart. I’ll never stop being thankful to him for carrying that weight.

My heart is my armor

I couldn’t help feeling guilty when I failed to be strong with him. It wasn’t fair that he should be the strong one for the group all the time and I got to be weak with him in our night watches. I tried to tell myself that by always volunteering to stand guard with him to help him stay awake I was doing my part, but deep down I know that I was just craving an opportunity of being alone just the two of us, and that I was just dying to hear him say “Thomas, you know you need to be strong with me.”

“I should be,” I confessed one time.

“No, you should listen to me, and I’m telling you that I don’t want you to be strong.”

“It’s not fair that you have to be strong alone.”

“I’m not alone.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do. But it’s just how it is. Soon we’ll be at the Safe Haven and then I’ll be able to be weak, alright? Don’t worry.”

“Are you really scheduling when you’ll be weak? Just like that? Are you sure that lightning didn’t hit you square in the head?” I said slapping him lightly on the shoulder.

“Don’t go running your mouth like that, I’m still the leader of this group, y’know? I still can banish you,” he said, giving me a slap back on my shoulder, but he rested his hand there and caressed it for a moment before continuing. “You already do a lot just by staying here with me every night.”

“I should do more.”

“Stop.”

I stopped.

“I need you well,” he said. After I didn’t reply, “Alright?”

“Alright,” I murmured a bit reluctantly.

He's the tear in my heart, he's a carver

He really was for me the embodiment of that feeling I had back in that terrifying night in the Maze. Stepping into the Maze I had the feeling that, in the face of death, I was more alive. He did that to me, in a way. He was my weakness. The thought of looking around and not seeing him scared me more than the Crank that wanted to cut off my nose. He came into my life like a knife cutting my heart open, and that strangely made me strive to find more strength in me because, looking at him, I knew I couldn’t let myself let him down.

That’s why being in those tunnels, away from him, was the scariest part of all this journey. The very thought of reuniting with the group and discovering that something had happened almost made me fall to the ground. Each Crank we encountered was a reminder of that possibility and that was what made them so scary.

He's a butcher with a smile, cut me farther

For that reason, I’m never tired of repeating that the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen was Minho materializing at the doorstep to that dirty basement, all covered in blood, holding a knife in each hand. With all the begging for me to stop telling that story to anyone who cares to listen around the Safe Haven, I know he likes to hear me repeat it. It’s a very fitting image, too. That’s how he came into my life figuratively back in the Glade: cutting me deep and making me bleed; and then at that moment in the Scorch, he embodied the role in a more literal way: knives and blood all over.

Than I've ever been

_______________________________________________ [x] << #1: A7 | << #2: The Bet | << #3: A7 #4: He's a Butcher with a Smile

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dorotheado · 30 days

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THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT TRACKLIST THEORIES

"Fortnight" (ft Post Malone) - gosh what a start. my guess feels unrealistic but i'm imagining a song that goes like 'day 1:' and starts at a brilliant relationship and ends on day 14 with a break up. lol. there were 2 ish weeks between the start of the eras tour and the breakup right........

"The Tortured Poets Department" - im imagining a real breakdown of lockdown like how the pandemic resulted in two people sitting in the dark writing tortured poetry. rip

"My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys" - interesting how this is self-objectifying (i.e. she is the toy). i'm assuming this is a bit like tongue in cheek, he loves me so much that he breaks me. imagining some poppy sounds tbh

"Down Bad" - ok so im expecting this one to be about being in love and it sucks. it just sucks. lol im really not guessing very many emotional facets in this album im sticking w like 2 ideas: in love or in pain so far lol. anyway

"So Long, London" - this place haunts me it has all my memories and i love it but it's too painful (SAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!) (sidenote she will be singing this one as the last surprise song in london on the eras tour obviously)

"But Daddy I Love Him" - oh this one gonna break me i reckon lol like i am both thinking sad bop w extremely like sassy tone and also slow sad song realising the inevitability of it all. so idk how to reconcile those but 🤷🏻‍♀️

"Fresh Out the Slammer" - im imagining rock-y sounds with very get-him-back-olivia-rodrigo-vibes but mainly im just thinking "getaway car" IM OUT IM OUT desperation lyrics

"Florida!!!" (ft Florence and the Machine) - based on my very limited knowledge of florence and the machine i am picturing gospel backing vocals and lyrics about adrenaline rushes and desperation in the face of weighty emotions

"Guilty as Sin?" - literally no clue about this one. i guess like 'was it my fault?'

"Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?" - anti hero extended? maybe like 'we had this fight and you're retreating... but what is there to be afraid of?' maybe a bit angry also ?

"I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)" - EVERYBODY IS DOUBTING ME BUT MY WHOLE LIFE I BEEN FIXING PEOPLE AND I'M 1000000% THIS GUY CAN BE FIXED AND THAT I AM GOOD ENOUGH TO DO IT NO PLS BELIEVE ME (i am aware this is essentially just the title but i just am imagining very classic un-self-aware but also supremely self aware sad bop)

"Loml" - i'll be honest every time i just think of Queen & freddie mercury singing 'love of my life' lol but if i hazard a guess i will say loml DOES stand for love of my life and it's a painful love song (like this is the love of my life. maybe it wont last forever but it's the one chance i have. very "false god")

"I Can Do It with a Broken Heart" - i agree w jaime that this is giving long live 2.0 like 'yoh sang these words back to me and suddenly i have strength' but tbh i have been guessing long live 2.0 on every album since lover so watch me be wrong

"The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived" - FUCK U IT'S JOEVER (either hard rocky sounds or soft strings a la ivy/illicit affairs/invisible string)

"The Alchemy" - i'm imagining that the chorus ends with the line 'but what about the alchemy?' - i.e. everything sucks but the chemistry pulls us back together each time, a la "style"

"Clara Bow" - 'how must she have felt? i could take a guess'

"The Manuscript" - i thought this was it and it wasnt and maybe the invisible string wasnt between us but was just the direction of my life ?

"The Bolter" - oh classic me i just run! i always run! and i stayed but now im running! fable-moral-lesson vibes maybe?

"The Albatross" - it's hanging around my neck. im imagining epiphany type strings

"The Black Dog" - haunting me its haunting me everywhere i go, im imagining haunted but the despair is quieter.

#anyway i wonder how accurate any of this is #im so excited to hear it regardless!!!!!!#theories #ttpd #aya talks

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cringy-username-dream-wanderlust · 1 year

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top ten favorite bands/musicians tag game

@whereforartthoumisthios thanks again for the tag❤️

This list mainly consists of Taylor Swift, a Belgian pop group and A LOT of indiefolk music. It annoys me deeply that I could only list 9 musicians but I don't want to be pretentious and name someone I don't fully stan.

I also listed my favorite albums and songs by each artist :)

1. Taylor Swift

Ofcourse. I already used to be a fan during her Fearless/Speak Now/Red days but fell out when she got into pop music. Then she dropped her indiefolk albums folklore and evermore and I became a diehard Swiftie, even bigger than before. Ironically, I really love her pop albums now too.

Favorite album: evermore

Favorite song: ivy

2. K3

Belgian girlgroup, with a lot of cheery bubblegum pop songs. Their music is mainly made for children (lol) but there are a lot of adult fans too, like me. Their songs just always put me in the best mood❤️. They sing in Dutch.

Favorite album: Dans van de Farao

Favorite song: Pina Colada

3. The National

Basically a band of depressed dads. But they are awesome. Their alternative indie music is so good. They're slowly becoming my alltime favorite band.

Favorite album: First Two Pages of Frankenstein

Favorite Song: Your Mind Is Not Your Friend

4. The East Pointers

Very unknown band, but their music is truly out of this world. Indiefolk. With a lot of banjo. It's just so good. I don't know what else to say. Everytime I listen to their music I feel like I'm being floated off to another dimension.

Favorite album: Yours To Break

Favorite song: Miner's Dream

5. Oshima Brothers

Indiefolk/-pop (surprise, surprise). Very chill, relaxing music. These guys have amazing voices. I really want to listen to them now haha.

Favorite album: Dark Nights Golden Days

Favorite song: The Way It Goes

6. WILD

Happy folk music. I love listening to them when I'm walking through the woods. Hearing their songs instantly gives me a massive serotonin boost.

Favorite album: Goin' Back

Favorite Song: Here We Go

7. Birdy

You may know her from her famous cover of Skinny Love. Her voice is enchanting. She's got all kinds of different music. I really hope to see her live one day.

Favorite album: Young Heart

Favorite song: Voyager

8. Aly & AJ

We all know their song "Potential Breakup Song". That's not the type of music I love the most from them though. Ever since their comeback a couple of years ago they've been focussing on soft indie-dreampop. It's so good. Gives me the chills everytime. I am very excited for their upcoming album.

Favorite album: a touch of the beat gets you up on your feet gets you out and then into the sun

Favorite song: Am I Alright

9. Portland

I very recently discovered this amazing band through the Belgian show "Liefde voor Muziek"(Love of Music). By now I feel awkward repeating myself so I think you can guess what kind of music they make lol. Their voices are so dreamy!

Favorite album: Departures

Favorite song: Sensational

#tag

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journalworldwide · 1 year

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Boosie Badazz Net Worth: An American Rapper, Singer, and Songwriter

Boosie Badazz Net Worth: As of 2022, Boosie Badazz, also known as Lil Boosie, is an American rapper, singer, songwriter, and actor with an estimated net worth of $8 million. His actual name is Torrence Ivy Hatch Jr., but he is better known as Boosie Badazz or Lil Boosie. After the release of his debut album, 'Youngest of da Camp,' he became very popular in the music industry and rose to prominence. Since the 1990s, when he debuted as a member of the hip-hop collective Concentration Camp, Boosie Badazz has been rapping. In his career, he has created 10 studio albums and 42 mixtapes, with the majority of his albums becoming hits. Aside from that, Boosie Badazz is competing in the music industry to become one of the top rappers in the industry, or he is fighting a daily battle with diabetes.

Boosie Badazz Early Life

Torrence Ivy Hatch Jr. gave birth to Boosie Badazz on November 14, 1982, in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, United States. Connie Hatch, his mother, was a school nurse who later became a teacher at the local middle school where she worked. Boosie engaged in basketball to the point where he was skilled enough to earn a college basketball scholarship. After some time, Boosie turned to drugs and crime; after being expelled from school and having few other options, he turned to music to seek a new direction in life.

Boosie Badazz Net Worth

(Lil Boosie) Boosie Badazz's net worth is approximately $8 million in 2022. In the world of music, he has already achieved widespread renown. The rapper has amassed a substantial fortune through album sales, songs, and live performances.

Boosie also launched his label, Bad Azz Music Syndicate, through which he earns a substantial income. Additionally, he generates income from his YouTube channel and brand endorsements. The annual income of Boosie Badazz exceeds $1 million.

Boosie Badazz Music Career

Boosie collaborated with Baton Rouge rapper C-Loc in the late 1990s after his cousin Young Bleed introduced them. In 2000, Later Boosie made his debut on C-Loc's fifth studio album, 'It's A Gamble. Subsequently, Boosie released his debut album, "Youngest Of Da Camp," which sold more than 10,000 copies. In 2001, under the moniker Lil Boosie, he signed with Trill Entertainment and released his second studio album, 'For My Thugz.' His major studio album, Bad Azz, was released in 2006, and he continued to release hit singles throughout the years. Boosie was arrested in East Baton Rouge in October 2008 after deputies discovered marijuana and a Glock in his vehicle. Less than a year later, he pled guilty to his third marijuana possession offense and was immediately sentenced to two years in jail. In 2011, he pleaded guilty to smuggling drugs into prison, which added eight years to his sentence. In response to this harsh decision, his fans launched the Free Boosie Campaign to reduce the rapper's prison time. In March of 2014, Boosie was released from prison after serving a total of only five years. After his release from prison, Boosie signed with Atlantic Records and released "Show Da World" with Webbie as his debut single. Boosie was diagnosed with kidney cancer in November 2015 and lost 20 pounds in 13 days. He elected to undergo surgery, and the procedure was successful.

Boosie Badazz Car Collection

Like any other rapper, Boosie Badazz is also fond of expensive and luxury cars, so let’s check it out. He got a Rolls Royce Cullinan, which costs around $335,000. Boosie has many expensive cars including, Lamborghini Urus, Chevrolet, Mercedes Maybach S650, Corvette C8, Jaguar F-Type, Dodge Challenger Srt, Bentley Bentayga, Audi Q8, BMW X7, and many more.

Boosie Badazz Assets

Currently, Lil Boosie has become one of the most entertaining rappers in hip-hop. Lil Boosie, a hip-hop legend from Baton Rouge, is estimated to be worth an impressive $8 million, according to multiple sources. He resides in a multimillion-dollar mansion with a full-size basketball court and a massive swimming pool. He also enjoys displaying his collection of luxury automobiles, which range from a 1970 Chevrolet to a brand-new Bentley Bentayga. In addition to the mansion and automobiles, Boosie's jewellery collection is one of the most unique you have seen among rappers to date. In this article, we discuss about Boosie Badazz Net Worth if you like this article then stay tuned with us and read our other articles Jovita Moore and Elliana Walmsley on our site Journalworldwide.com. Read the full article

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bewitchingivy · 2 years

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Pick A Card: Messages From Your Lost Pet

Hello, everyone! I'm Ivy. In this PAC, we'll be reading what things your deceased furry or scaly friend wants you to know. I've been thinking to do this for the past few days, but I was somehow skeptical about it. But now I just want to do this as a tribute to my familiar who passed away almost a year ago, and to my three beautiful cats who recently passed away last month.

MASTERLIST

NOTE: I'm against of calling our animal companions as ‘pets.’ I'm the kind of person who personally respects and believes that animals are our equals, they have rights and choices, and they're living creatures just as we are. Therefore in the readings below, you'll notice that I'd refer to them as friends or companions rather than ‘pets.’

Please choose from one to three piles. I pray that your intuition will lead you to the messages that's meant for you to hear. Keep in mind that this is a general reading so take what resonates and leave what doesn't! If one pile doesn't resonate with you at all, then you're welcome to choose again.

Disclaimer: This is for entertainment purpose only. Do not take this reading as a professional or medical advise. Photos used are not mine, they belong to their respective owners.

from left to right: 1, 2, 3.

Pile One

six of spirals (reversed), green man / the emperor (reversed), five of stones, change of direction.

Hello, there! If you chose the first pile, then listen up. “Rest.” and “Be in tune to your emotions.” Those are the words that I've been hearing while I was shuffling your cards. You must be very drained these days and/or you may not feel so well—you have all these conflicting feelings. So your little friend here must've want you to just take a break. Breathe and just be still, even for a moment. Okay?

Also, your furry (or scaly) friend wants to remind you that you're not a failure. Okay, I kinda get the feeling that you're somehow not in good terms with one of your parents. Particularly the father figure. And your friend has sensed this in their time when they were with you. Perhaps this parent have said some nasty things about you, but you know you are neither what they said, and yet it still wounded you to feel insecure and inadequate. But your animal friend wants to remind you of your worth. You are loveable. You are amazing. You deserve all the good things in life. Someone or yourself must have been telling you that you're a failure—but let's stop there, shall we? You are not that. You are worthy and you are a champion. Don't listen to others who tell you otherwise.

I feel like you're being called to work on your self concept, fam. Also, a change is coming or is actually going on right now in your life. It may be confusing right now, but it's a blessing. You're protected and guided, so there is simply no need to worry. Just go where you are most happy and feel loved (even by just yourself), nothing is ever wrong if you choose to do everything with love as your intention.

channeled song: Here With Me by Elina

additional channeled messages: Stop masking your feelings. Breathe in and out. Smile. When the time is right. You are beautiful. I'm always with you. Choose love and leave any malice.

Much love <3 — Ivy

Pile Two

three of scrolls, eight of stones (reversed), the illusionist / knight of stones, reward yourself.

Hi, fam! So let's start with your reading. This animal friend of yours must have passed away just recently, and I'm very sorry to hear this, I know how it feels like to lose them. In the Three of Scrolls card, the illustration is of a crying fox. So for most of you, your friend must have been a canine fella. But here's what they want you to know: they know that since they passed on, you've been mourning their passing. Okay, I'm sorry to be blunt here, but I have to. They want you to stop. Please just stop being sad or blaming yourself for what has happened, they want to remind you that. There will be time for mourning, but just not right now. (Omg, I also got reminded by my long lost bunny, they could be a rabbit too.) Anyways, they want you to stop shedding tears for a moment. And look around you. If you do it right now, you'll miss a lot of opportunities.

I'm gonna be honest with you. There are good things happening around you right now, and they don't want you to miss all of that. It's the time when some doors are opening, and if you don't act any time soon, they'll be closed and you might not open them again. So drop your things and just go for it! Also, you might not be able to think well or straightly if your mind is too muddled up right now. So it's highly suggestible for you to take breaks and reward yourself. Take meditation too. And just breathe.

One more message: they are very thankful for what you have done and given to them. Like literally. They love you so much and are very thankful to have you as a part of their life. ‘Thank you for always being there with me,’ is what I'm hearing.

channeled song: In The Woods Somewhere by Hozier

additional channeled messages: You are enough. I have always been there, and will always be here. You are the best. My only friend. You're the one I love the most. Thank you.

Much love <3 — Ivy

Pile Three

bella rosa / the devil (reversed), nine of stones (reversed), gaia / the empress (reversed), release and surrender.

Hello, for the people who have chosen the third pile! So let me first start off that your adorable friend is proud of you. They're proud of you that you've done your best shedding your old skin and leaving your past behind. They're proud of you that you're trying to better yourself. And even trying is enough. They want you to know that your efforts have not gone unnoticed and that you will be blessed by the things you have done. It seemed like they were part of aiding you in your journey—they could have been your familiar—and they couldn't be even more proud of you for making it this far! It's like... this sense of relief that, yep, they've done their job well.

And since that you'll be facing this road alone for now, they want to remind you that you're going to be okay. OKAY?! Okay. Really, guys. Just chill. I get the feeling that you have been overly stressed out due to your manifestations lately, maybe you've been like worried about something that it's taking so long to arrive, but you see the only thing that's stopping you from getting it is you. So listen. All they want you to get inside your brain is just: R E L A X , H O O M A N . For some of you this could be a feline friend of yours, 'cause I've been subconsciously picturing a whitish or greyish cat who's just so chill and poker-faced in front of their anxious and panicky human, lmao.

So just release and surrender your desires to the Universe, babes. Let go and let God, that's what I've been hearing. Just let your guides, God, the universe to do the job. And you just sit back and relax. I mean, just go on with your life, lol.

channeled song: Going Home by Ásgeir

Additional channeled messages: You are so dumb. (omg what, they're such a meanie but they love you sm it could literally translate as: I love you lmfao). Please clean your space. You have done well. I'll see you again soon. Don't go on doing stupid things. I miss your touch.

Much love <3 — Ivy

#bewitchingivy #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot reading #divination #intuitive reading #pac #tarot community #tarot cards #witchblr #witch community #Spotify #animals #pets

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angeli-marco-writes · 3 years

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Sherlock Holmes - Kiss Me, Mr Detective

A/N - Season 1!Sherlock, the cutie. And friends to lovers. Two of my favourite things. I do not own Sherlock Holmes, the character, the universe, the adaptations or anything: this is a work of fiction set on the BBC adaptation of Sherlock. Did I still write 8.2k words (exactly) for it? Yes. I also don’t own the song or the lyrics used within, and if you fancy it, listen to ‘Kiss Me’ by Ed Sheeran while reading.

Warnings - Bad language. Mentions of murder and drug usage. Mild angst. Smut, loss of virginity, masturbation, oral m receiving, penetration, unprotected sex, so 18+.

Summary - After a fight with John leaves Sherlock feeling particularly down, he calls on the one person who is always there to support him. Only tonight, it’s different. Feelings come to a head, exploration ensues, but is this just a one time thing? That depends on whether she stays the night...

TO SHERLOCK, it’s just another normal day, whereas to John? He’d rather not admit how regularly these awful days roll around. Sure, the case didn’t go as well as it could’ve, and Sherlock admittedly could’ve made much more of an effort to comfort John after the apparent ‘heartbreak’ he endured. He just could not understand it. Why the hell was John so emotionally responsive to a case they’d been on for less than twenty four hours which turned out to be a bust anyway?

“You are absolutely unbelievable!”

“People die every day, John. You’ve killed people, as have I. It isn’t that great a surprise.” Sherlock deadpans, picking up his teacup, raising it to his lips, drawing a long sip from the warm liquid.

“Oh, yeah, of course. The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone, that never mused on sorrow but its own.” John mocks. “Do you not even care that people are still dead despite the fact you solved the case?”

“They’d be dead either way,” he reiterates, “at least we got to them before they completely decomposed. Will me caring about them stop them from being dead? No, Dr Watson, it will not.”

“Sherlock!”

“John!” He mimics.

John slams his hands down on the desk, shaking the wood and everything resting on it, surely sending the vibrations through the floor and notifying Mrs Hudson of their ‘domestic’ as she so likes to call them. The buffalo even begins to swing. John’s tea is long forgotten, but Sherlock’s is keeping him grounded, calm, as John waggles his fist in Sherlock’s passive, blank face.

“You-” he pauses, gulping down breath. “You are a fucking machine, I can’t even deal with you right now. How dare you be so cold hearted and untroubled by this. You’re a disgrace.”

As if he hasn’t heard that one before, Sherlock scoffs.

Placing his teacup back down with a clink, he stands, the darkness of the night, of the room, closing in on them both. Nights like these really are danger nights, any night John leaves him. That’s what's coming next, but there isn’t a thing he knows to say or do to prevent the inevitable. He’ll simply just text Her instead, she’ll keep him grounded.

“Why? Emotional context? Emotion, whether of ridicule, anger, or sorrow, whether raised at a puppet show, a funeral, or a battle, is your grandest of levellers. The man who would be always superior should be always apathetic.”

With a huff like a bull, John viciously turns on his heel, blaspheming under his breath, cursing Sherlock out. He reaches for his coat and snatches it off the stand, slamming the door open.

“MACHINE.” John screams before pulling the door shut with a great slam, seething, the coat stand still rocking in his wake.

John’s footsteps thunder down the stairs, but before he’s even gone, Sherlock’s phone is withdrawn, and he’s tapping out a message.

Can you come over? Please? SH

It wouldn’t usually bother him as much. The case didn’t phase him, at all, but John’s opinion did. It always does. But today was a particularly long day of being brutish and rude, cold and distant, his usual and true self, but John’s more and more impatient with him now.

Being called a ‘machine’ is, again, nothing unusual, but this time it stings a little more than usual, especially after his recent arrest, and a fallout with Molly. He only has one person left, right now, who doesn’t hate him. His longest friend, the one he keeps away from it all so as to not tarnish her life with his misdeeds; Y/N, the one he can always rely on.

He knows she’s arrived by the sound of his window crashing open. Crawling up the bricks, skimming the drainpipe, latching onto the ivy; it’s her usual manner of entry. She never uses the door.

Putting his cups and saucers into the sink, he makes his way through the house, opening his bedroom door to find her already sitting there on the bed, her coat hung up on the hook, her work clothes clinging to her body.

“Hey there Mr Detective, you okay?” she asks as jovially as she can muster.

The way he ambles across the room, his dressing gown floating behind him, and slumps down onto the bed, instantly tells her he’s not okay at all. She can’t help but to look upon him sympathetically, edging a smidge closer to him, until he’s prompted enough to wrap his arms around her torso, finding his rightful place tangled around her. She knows him well enough - his past, and his current life - to realise she’s the only person he’s ever felt comfortable enough around to do this with, and that brings her a certain swelling pride in her bosom, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by Sherlock as he feels her skin heat up against his cheek.

It doesn’t take long, either, for his head to follow suit, burying into her chest. He’s always, always had a thing for her boobs, ever since they were in uni together.

That’s something so special about the two of them, he doesn’t have to say anything for her to know he’s not okay the way he does with everyone else. And naturally, he can read everything about her in a split second.

“I’m here, bud.”

Above all else, he just needs to know someone is there for him in moments like these. The world is cruel to him, and Y/N wishes more than anything that it wasn’t. Upon instinct, her hands stray, one to his back, pressing against the silk of his dressing gown, the other cradling his long neck, fingers knotting in the dark curls there.

She isn’t sure how long she stays there, simply holding him, feeling every twitch of his muscles, every breath of his against her skin, but she likes it. Of course she does, every time she likes it. Sherlock brings her an inordinate amount of comfort at the best of times, today is no exception, especially with what the day has held. Even when she’s the one comforting him, he doesn’t realise how much he helps her too.

His flat is so familiar, his bed as comfortable as her own. She knows his sock index, she’s studied his periodic table over his shoulder more times than she’d care to admit, and she even has her own toothbrush in the bathroom in case she has to pop over for an emergency freshen up. Sherlock has, and always will be, her first port of call, and that she remembers as she shifts further onto the quilted bedspread, her phone on his oak bedside locker.

His head begins to stir against her chest, his curls tickling her collarbones, small hums escaping his lips as he pushes himself up, his elegant yet trembling hands still splayed on her waist.

“I could feel your heart beating weirdly, what’s wrong?” he asks, quirking his eyebrows.

“Just the usual.” she vaguely replies.

Sherlock isn’t having it, though, and scans her a little more. “You’re still in your work clothes.”

“Great deduction. I was hoping you’d go a little deeper, though.”

“You hate wearing work clothes longer than necessary, which means you had plans straight after work, considering you finished… five hours ago? That’s your usual time for today. Counting overtime, forty five minutes, walk to your car, another ten, but your umbrella wasn’t working, round that up to an hour, leaving at 6. You arrived home, no, not home, at your boyfriend’s house for dinner. However, you’re not comfortable enough with one another yet for you to use his shower, or perhaps you are, but you elected not to, and stay in damp clothes that only had seventeen minutes to dry with the heater on in your car for the journey there. You ate dinner, Mexican, had a glass and a half of five percent wine, realised you couldn’t drive, but you didn’t particularly want to stay. Nonetheless you sat and watched the telly with him for hours, football, I can see the dreariness in your eyes. I know how much you hate it, and frankly, same. You stayed for almost all of the match, seeing as you’re now sober, but something else happened.” She lulls her head to the side, prompting him, her smile not meeting her eyes. “As soon as the match ended, he tried to make a move on you, he pressed his mouth to yours, he tried to push his hand up your skirt;” his throat bobs with a vicious gulp; despising the thought of anyone else laying a finger on her, “you swatted him away, rightfully so.”

He pauses a minute, his harsh tone of voice and his sharp face softening. He can see the vulnerability in her eyes, her walls about to crumble. This woman he appreciates so much. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Smiling melancholically up at him, she brings her hand back to his hair, her fingers carding through the soft curls. His face buries back into her chest just as her voice offers a broken whisper, “I broke it off. I was the one who couldn’t commit this time.”

And as she lays her head on top of his, her breathing more shallow, resounding in her chest, he dwells over those very words. The way she said them, not to mention the words themselves, hold a myriad of meaning. What could she possibly-

Oh.

The subtext, yes, impeccable. She’s always had a way with implications and subtext, always knowing that the likelihood of him actually picking up on it is little to none. But now, now he’s become trained to her, her way of life, her way of thinking, her way of speaking. This is too good an opportunity to miss. If she means what he thinks she means, ever hopeful, then this is completely unfamiliar territory.

Gathering all of his courage in one deep breath, he begins to pepper kisses on her skin. The faintest brush of his lips on the tops of her breasts, all that’s available to him with her shirt the way it is. He feels her heart flutter, her breathing stutter, but despite the chemical flush of her chest, he still isn’t quite sure she likes it. Not until he feels her grip on his hair increase, and he glances up to see her head thrown back. Her spine delicately arches against his hand, thrusting her chest further into his face.

His nimble fingers reach for her buttons, undoing the top two, giving him space enough to find the valley between her breasts. Lathering kisses there, licking the swells of her boobs, his tongue pulsates with the increased thrumming of her heart. The sensation is new, so unbridled, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with the stirring in his loins right about now. That unknowing is only further amplified by the sound that rips from her chest when he involuntarily bites down on the supple flesh. It couldn’t be… a moan?

Sure, he understands the chemistry of it, the reactions that occur in the synapses of the brain, the pheromones and hormones released when one is aroused, but this is all new to him. And, from his embarrassingly basic level of theory, surely that doesn’t start until some more stimulation on other parts of the body commence? Nipples, perhaps something lower down… then again, what does Sherlock know?

Of course it’s an intimate moment, the closest he’s been to a woman before, and maybe that’s why he freezes, stops, and she tugs his head up by his hair, her gentle, pleasured smile with her lips softly parted deepening the look of bewilderment painted onto his face. Her eyes are twinkling, alight with an excitement he hasn’t seen for far too long.

“What are you doing?” she whispers.

He shrugs his shoulders with a sudden force, his dressing gown falling off a little. “I don’t know. But now I feel like I read your pining words all wrong.”

She gasps, a wheezing sound, sucking the air from the room. She smacks his arm gently, muffled by his button-down and dressing gown. “I wasn’t pining! I was saying.”

“Hmm, same difference.”

Everyone must acquiesce when it comes to Sherlock Holmes. “But no, you didn’t read them wrong at all, but I know you don’t see me that way, you don’t feel things that way.”

He pauses, his beautiful plump lips pursed, fidgeting on the bed. Brushing her hair off her face reveals the pain she expressed. However, her eyes glued on his, sadness is betrayed in every line of his young, clean-shaven face. His entire bone structure is taking a nosedive.

“For you, I’ve been feeling everything from hate to love to lust, and I guess that’s how I know I want to hold you close.”

“Sherlock...” she whispers, her singular word an inflection of surprise.

Never tearing his eyes from her, his hand comes up to her cheek, rubbing his thumb over the slightly blushing skin, searching her face, with his big blue eyes, for a shred of reluctance. But, all he sees is her, so he elects to do what his heart is yelling at him to do for once, and kisses her breathless. His full lips holding hers, his one hand on her face, the other still wrapped around her back. Hers fly around his neck, clinging to him for dear life.

It doesn’t take long, their movements steadily heating, for their previously slow, intimate kiss to grow into something more, Y/N pulling herself up from the bed and making herself comfortable on Sherlock’s lap. His breath hitches in his throat, a cute little hiccupping sound escaping his lips in between embraces.

As much as he loves just this, soft caressing and gentle petting, he just knows she wants more. He does too, that much is evident from the length prodding at Y/N’s inner thigh as she moves gently on his lap. She won’t make a move, though, he’s too inexperienced, and she’s too much of a sweetheart to corrupt him, so she thinks. Ever since he first saw her, she’s been corrupting him slowly. He didn’t realise at first, but over the years, he began to understand, and now he’s in too deep.

For Y/N? It’s always been him. Every breakup she’s had, she’ll come to Sherlock’s flat, full well knowing the real reason she broke up with them, because she couldn’t commit, because she was too caught up on him.

Skimming his hands beneath her shirt, he savours the press of his hands on her bare skin, warmth seeping from her body into his, his fingers dancing along her spine. Electricity shocks her in bursts, unlike anything else, from his touch alone.

“May I take your shirt off?” he asks.

“Fuck, yes.” she groans. “May I do yours?”

“Be my guest.”

In a tangle of limbs, a few buttons pop off, and eventually, two shirts make it out the other side, tossed from the bed and into the laundry pile. Aka Sherlock’s floor. He’s like that: sock indexes, yet he won’t get a hamper. A walking contrast.

His thumbs press beneath the band of her bra, savouring the pressure of the flesh that falls into his hands, but that’s as far as he gets.

“Never undone a bra before?”

He shakes his head sheepishly. “I know the theory. Just… you always wear peculiar ones.”

“I wear relatively normal bras, and this one is certainly bog standard. Had I known you’d be undressing me Mr Detective, I’d have worn something nicer.”

“Just do it for me.” He requests, chuckling.

She unfastens her bra, and allows her breasts to spill from the cups, into Sherlock’s awaiting hands. The gasp that erupts from him sends Y/N’s brain into overdrive. He’s cupped her chest through her shirt before, buried his nose into her cleavage countless times, but never before have they had such skin on skin contact. Her lips press to his neck, shifting her closer to him. Sucking on his pressure point, she receives a similar gasp in response, only this one is more guttural, more a sound of pleasure than surprise. He’s wilting from a single kiss to his neck.

“Has no one ever given you a hickey?” She husks in his ear, her voice alone sending tremors down his spine.

“N- fuck, no.”

“I’ll make it worth it. All of this.”

“I know you will.”

She fuses her lips onto his again, savouring the faint hesitations as he grapples with his breath, eager to get some control on his mind with all that’s happening. Never did she ever think Sherlock would be here beneath her, his rough fingertips brushing over her peaked buds, and his palms dancing over her waist. Never did she think she’d hear him whisper his next words, either, not in a million years.

“More.” he pleads. “Can we do… more? Whatever that entails?”

“That depends what you want to do.”

“Get me out of these damn trousers. They're rather uncomfortable.”

She snorts lightly, a piggy like sound, the one they bonded over all those years ago. “I can feel why.”

“I imagine you want out of your work trousers, too.”

“God, yes; they’re ghastly.”

“I don’t think so.” he hums. “You look nice.”

Her cheeks begin to burn, blood rushing to colour them, betraying her true feelings, but as he tweaks her nose playfully, the little snort escapes again.

They were in the dining hall, second week of university, almost ten years ago, and Y/N was sitting with her friends, downing enough coffee to sink a ship, eating her hangover away, when her friends decided to make her laugh with tales of last night's drunken events. Unbeknownst to her, one of the greatest minds of the twenty-first century was sitting just a few seats down on the half-empty bench, watching her perceptively in his periphery. That’s when he first heard the sound. The cutest thing, and it startled him into action, beginning his deductions almost instantly. Admittedly, her student ID on the table aided him a little.

He shocked her from her haze, too, as soon as he spoke her name.

“Y/N, eighteen, jurisprudence first year, freshers week over with. You left a boyfriend back home, but you’re more sad about leaving your dog, as I would be. You don’t particularly care about law but know it’s a good undergraduate to receive anyway. Dyed hair, extrovert, killer hangover, and apparently there’s a little piggy living inside your nose. Sherlock Holmes, would you like some aspirin?”

“That’s weird; what are you, some kind of detective?” She asked, sans malice, a playful bounce to her words.

“Chemistry, going for a masters. But I do like the mystery, yes.”

“So you’re… bright. Nice to meet you, Sherlock, and it seems you know almost everything you need to know about me. But yes, I will take that aspirin, if you don’t mind. How was your weekend?”

He smiled at her, the first true smile he’d given in a long time. “It was nice, thank you.”

And thus a friendship was born, all because he heard her little piggy snort.

Her slender fingers work wonders with the fastener and zip of his suit trousers, and even manage hers too, all within the space of a few seconds, but Sherlock is reluctant to let her go, even just to get her trousers off.

“I need to sit up, just for a minute.”

“No.” Sherlock commands, insistent. “We can make this work.”

“Sure we can, but it won’t be very comfortable. Come on.”

She’s barely peeled away from him and wrestled hers off before he’s drawing her back in for a kiss, his trousers settled just above his knees.

“Sherlock,” she protests, mumbling against his lips, her hands on his heavenly, broad, muscular shoulders. “Sher!”

Her squeal at his sudden tug on her panties disappears, captured by his eager mouth. And in fact, her panties seem to disappear along with it, thanks to Sherlock’s swift movements and nimble hands. Maybe he’s had some experience to be so good at this…

“You sure you wanna go this far?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been. I need you.”

He takes a deep inhale, dropping his forehead against hers, his breathing coming out in bursts as he tries to get a grasp on the situation. “Kiss me.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice, instantly getting to work on the waistband of his boxers as his tongue lavishes her own. His hips rise briefly, just long enough for her to tug the elasticated material from around him, slipping past her, and then he kicks it into their growing pile of clothes. His length falls into her awaiting palm, and-

“Wow.” She exhales in amazement. “If I’d known you were packing this much, I’d have jumped you long ago.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“Absolutely not, until tonight I thought you’d just laugh at me.”

He pecks her lips affectionately, “Never. You’re bloody beautiful, I’ll let you do anything to me.”

“Hmm, anything, you say?”

Stifling a chuckle against her neck, he recommences, “Maybe not anything.”

Yeah, that's definitely the right call. Still, she finds herself all but clawing at him, her breath hovering teasingly just over his lips, their noses touching, her hands clamped to his cheeks, feeling the building heat there. She must be making such a mess of his bed right about now, but for one night? It can’t matter.

This is a one time thing, it has to be. Sherlock just needs to release some tension, she just so happens to be there. Still, she can’t prevent the little glimmer of hope shining through at the possibility of this being a more-than-one-time thing. The moral compunctions of their friendship after this don’t matter anymore, because he’s leaving a fire in his wake, his delicious fingertips digging bruisingly into her bum before trailing lightly up her spine, skimming her shoulder, brushing her neck - arched for him to reach where he wants, able to mark her as his own - and finally slipping over her lips, taken obediently by her awaiting mouth. Christ, if there’s one thing she hopes for tonight, it’s that his actions never relent.

Whether it’s what he intends to happen or not, his fingers in her mouth give her an idea, one she prays he goes along with at least a little, so she pulls away. The dirty, telling smile on her face hints at what she’s about to do, lending Sherlock to shift a little more up the bed, his eyes following her every move. Hands splayed on his thighs, her small fingers gripping onto the fine hairs there, she begins to take his tip into her mouth, never once breaking eye contact with him. Yeah, this is what’ll drive him insane.

Inch by inch, she takes him into the welcoming heat of her mouth, pulling off slowly, only to go down again. She adds her tongue into the mix at some point, too, and her hand, on what she can’t reach, tickling his balls, but further than that, his mind is blank. Hot white, washed with pleasure. The sounds he emits are other worldly, so much that he has to muffle himself with his own hand; what would Mrs Hudson say? He’s always had such control over his mind and body, but this… he’s slowly losing all semblance of control, and he’s not even mad about it. What he does know is that there’s a building heat in his abdomen, a coil about to spring, and his cock is beginning to twitch. If she keeps going this incredible way, her teeth grazing him ever so gently, adding another new sensation into the mix, he’s inexorably going to finish before he can help it.

“As much as I adore your torturous ministrations, I think I need to be inside you…” He husks, his voice deep.

A smirk gracing her lips, she looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, mischief glinting in her pretty little mesmerising eyes for a second, before she hollows her cheeks and takes him wholly, allowing his length to slip partially down her throat. Her moan reverberates around him, and Sherlock begins to thrash above her, scrunching the duvet in his hands, not caring if it creases. If there’s one thing Sherlock hates, it’s creases. And being called a machine by his best friend. Right now, though, it seems as though every misstep in his day has led him here, into the welcoming heat of Y/N’s mouth, taking him so eagerly, her tongue lapping at the vein on the underside of his dick, a string of saliva remaining as she pulls away.

“I think you’ve got a couple of rounds in you, Mr Detective. Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes.” He stammers, his head tossed back in pure ecstasy a moment later as she begins to work on the head with kitten licks. “But… can I s- fuck me, say something?”

“I plan on it.” she chuckles, “anything.”

She goes back to peppering kisses all over his member, tip to base, brushing his balls, working her way back up.

“Touch yourself f- for me.”

“What? Why?”

Her tone is more inquisitive than anything else, but upon that playfully rueful look in his lust-darkened baby blue eyes, she knows he’s going to get her back for this little display, and he’s just worked out how. It works both ways, she can prepare herself for what’s to come next while pleasuring him. And he gets to watch. It’s a win-win for him. Maybe he likes this sex thing a little more than he’s letting on.

“Are you sure you want me to? I’ll just make a mess on your sheets, Sher.”

She swallows him again, bobbing her head up and down on his length a few times while he grapples with literal reality. He’s teetering on the edge. One more move, and he’s a goner. His head is already against the wall, lolled there.

“I don’t care about the sheets, darling, I need you ready for me.”

She gulps, nods, and reaches one hand around her, skimming over her stomach, until it nestles between her thighs. She rubs her thumb over his tip, collecting the pre-come beading there, while she rubs over her throbbing pearl, pressing softly. Then, as she inches down on his cock, taking him in her mouth, she also collects the slick from between her thighs, and uses it as a lube to push a finger inside herself. Of all the times she’s touched herself, she never imagined, even in her wild Sherlock fantasies, that she’d be doing it with his dick down her throat. With every bob of her head, she scissors herself more, sinking back onto her fingers.

“I think I’m-” Sherlock begins to say, his words cut off by an utterly obscene moan splitting the air.

She hastily abandons her one post, and wraps both of her hands around his girth, working on what she can’t fit into her mouth with her increased speed, licking and suckling his head as he begins to fall apart, coming, with a scream, down her throat, his one hand clamped over his mouth, biting down harshly to silence his cries; the other buried in her hair.

His whole body falls lax, completely spent, meanwhile, Y/N savours every drop she’s been able to draw from him. He softens in her mouth, allowing her change to slip away from him, grasping a tissue from the bedside to wipe away any excess. That’s certainly something she never thought would happen…

He’s calm, though, smiling lazily through hooded eyes, his breathing regulated once more, making beckoning motions to her with his big hands. He’s placated, though, and sliding her hands into his, she’s allowed time enough to get into place, smiling softly at him, raking her fingers over his scalp in a comforting way. Even as she sits herself on his lap, she can feel him hardening beneath her ass, slowly but surely. She was right about him, he’s definitely got another round in him.

“Do you have a condom?” he asks.

“No, sweetheart, they’re in my other bag. I didn’t plan on getting any for a while… do you?”

“Not in here, that I’m aware of. John may have stashed some in my less favoured dressing gowns or socks, and he definitely has some upstairs, but I’m unawares.”

“I’m gonna sound crazy here, but do we need one?” She says hesitantly. His eyes widen, he cocks his head to the side. “I was tested after my last partner, I’m clean, and on birth control. You’re a virgin. There’s no point, is there?”

“You have a considerably good point.”

With that, energy rejuvenated a little, he wraps an arm around her body, flipping them over so he’s on top, shadowing her, looming over her, gazing down at every inch of her naked beauty.

“Take your time. I’ll be your safety.”

“I know.” he whispers, a tearful smile making its way onto her face. “Thank you.”

He needn’t say more, because she already knows why she’s being thanked. For her kindness, for making him so comfortable, for accepting the fact he’s still a virgin in his late twenties and, if he’s being honest, has no damn clue what the practicality and reality of sex is. Sure, he’s seen porn. He’s also looked at John’s laptop. But that doesn’t prepare one for when the moment comes. It’s like all of that goes out the window, and he simply remembers the first time he opened a biology textbook at secondary school, pictures of flushed organs staring back at him, desperately waiting to be relieved. That’s what his own coock is like right now, already hard again, virtually pulsating with hunger in his palm. He strokes himself a couple of times, glancing down at Y/N’s wide eyes.

“Are you okay? Can I…”

“Yes, Sherlock,” she chuckles, “whenever you’re ready.”

Now, he thinks. He rubs two digits through her folds, gathering her wetness, enamoured with the way it glistens on his fingertips. Tentatively, he brings his fingers up to his mouth, swirling his tongue around them to get a taste. Eyes rolling into the back of his head, he moans. She’s better than any cup of tea he’s ever had.

His cock slaps against his lower stomach pleadingly, so he grasps it in his hand, and begins to enter her, pushing gently, feeling every flutter of her walls. Her arms fly out, hands grasping his shoulders, nails leaving crescent moons in their wake at the delicious stretch. It’s nothing like they’ve ever felt before.

“Can I move?” He asks, balls deep inside her, their pelvises flush against one another.

“Please.” She all but begs.

Before doing anything else, Sherlock hooks one strong arm around her body, malleable in his hands, and holds her chest against his. Her breasts push into his skin, her nipples gaining friction from the dusting of hair there. Her one hand cups his slender neck, the other, his sharp cheek. Their eyes meet in a fierce gaze of burning intensity, and he begins to move. Slow, calculated, sharp thrusts punctuate her core. With every heavenly stroke, he can feel the ridges in her velvet walls, squeezing around him unwittingly.

“Jesus,” she cries, her clutch increasing.

“Hmm, not quite.”

The smirk in his words is quite literally audible. He’s so cocky, so full of himself, and fuck if she can’t feel another gush of arousal coursing through her, drenching his cock. How does he manage to be so attractive when he’s so dishevelled?

“Is that good?” He asks, unsure.

“So good.”

She brings her legs up, skimming the clenched backs of his thighs, until they wrap around him, drawing his hips into her at a new and improved angle. Heels digging into the base of his spine, he begins to move with a new purpose, his thrusts more passionate as his breath is drained from him by her kisses, his eyes alight with a new flame.

“Oh my God, Sherlock.” She pants, pulling him in for a kiss he greedily returns.

He drives his hips deeper, squeezing his fingertips into her supple waist bruisingly. It’ll be a mark that she belonged to him once, even just for one night. That’s when he reaches that special spongy spot that makes her entire body buckle. She all but screams, pressing into him wholly.

The coil is building, ready to break. He seems to be nearing the edge, too, his member twitching inside her when he buries himself particularly deep. She’s oh so fucking close… She licks into his mouth filthily, desperately clashing her teeth with his, eager for his kisses to tide her over. Silence her. Shifting his supporting hand, he trails one dextrous finger around to circle her clit, adding the faintest pressure for a moment. She mewls as he groans into her hot skin, clawing at him, entirely at his whim. Now he knows where to press, he settled his grip back around her, and draws her in close. This time around, he bends his knees a little more to measure his movements more carefully, ensuring that he ruts up and brushes her sensitive bud with his pelvis, helped by the extra friction of his neatly trimmed pubic hair on every thrust within her, his tip just scraping her g-spot.

“I- Sherlock, please tell me you’re- oh sweet mercy- close.”

He grunts softly in her ear. “So close.”

Their lips meet tenderly, passionately, in what they acknowledge to be a final kiss, moans mixing between them, savoured by the other.

His thighs clench, her legs tighten around his waist, and finally, her sweet walls flutter, squeezing him as she reaches her climax, his not following long after, spilling inside her, painting her soft walls white, marking her.

“Y/N,” he cries in ecstasy as his orgasm reaches him. “Sher…” she repeats, her saving grace as pleasure washes over her entirely.

Their whole bodies wind up pressed together, bound together as one, skin on skin completely, becoming one another.

He lets her down gently, unravelling his grip, unsurprised when their sweaty skin sticks together. Her long legs unfurl, splaying in a butterfly. Sherlock tumbles ungracefully away, somehow landing with a certain gangly elegance on the space of mattress beside her, his arm instinctively flying over to place on her stomach, the skin hot and flushed red. Her chest moves hastily up and down with the thrumming of her heart, while his barely shifts despite his shallow breaths, his white skin glistening in the moonlight.

“Are you okay?” He huffs, turning on his side. “You look pretty fucked out.”

His baby blue eyes train instantly on her nipples, hard in the open air. This is the first notifier, the first inkling she has to feel self conscious, so she draws the sheet up around her as best as she can. Sherlock’s not having any of it, taking a stronghold on her arms, and pulling her until she’s lying on him, naught to separate them.

“I’ve never been this close to anyone physically and y'know.” He hums tiredly. She’s never heard him sound tired before…

She smiles up at him as best she can, “Are you glad?”

He begins to hold her ever closer, squeezing her tighter, feeling every ridge of her body.

“I’m so glad that you were my first, in so many ways.”

Praise from Sherlock is a rarity, and she’ll take it as and when she can, savouring every moment, this time by holding him like a koala, her grip not wavering.

“I’m glad too, Mr Detective.”

He brushes a kiss to her cheek, “As much as I like this, we need to get you cleaned up.”

A supporting arm beneath her bum, he picks her up, and unsteadily ambles into the bathroom.

“I don’t know much about this, but I know you should probably use the toilet, should you want to avoid a UTI, so if you’d like me to leave…”

He sets her down on the loo seat, cupping his hands over his nether regions, and he hurries to grasp for things, until she puts her hand on his arm, squeezing in a conciliatory manner.

“You do remember the camping trip, don’t you? You really don’t have to leave just because I have to pee, you never did before. In fact, you frequently annoyed me with it if you had a particular point to make, steadfastly refusing to leave the bathroom after following me in there when I went to pee. Why does this change anything?”

He shrugs, dropping whatever was in his arms, “It just doesn’t feel the same now, though.”

“Ooo, and now Mr Detective feels things.” She jokes, poking at his ribs.

He recoils, chuckling with her, “Only for you.”

As Y/N washes her hand, Sherlock begins to wrangle with a floorboard, clattering about until he eventually pulls out a small lock box, from which he withdraws a packet of brand new marks-and-spencer's ladies briefs.

“Why the fuck do you have these? Anything you wanna tell me?” she asks, eyes wide.

“John’s idea. He has plenty of girls over here who frequently stay the night, simply a precautionary error.” He takes a beat, gargling with some mouthwash, “they’re clean, new, I just don’t like the idea of you in dirty underwear, and I know how reluctant you are to go without them whenever you’re not in your own bed. I stayed with you enough nights in university to know that.”

Those nights were awfully painful. She’d take the floor, he’d take the bed, and every time she’d have to wash the sheets. He’d sweat and vomit, shake and cry, plead for the pain to be over. He wouldn’t go to hospital, he wouldn’t call his brother, he’d just turn up on her doorstep, high as a kite, almost in tears, knowing he’d gone a little too far. And each time, it was a little farther.

“Thank you, Sherlock.”

She takes them from him, and begins to shimmy them up her legs, only prevented by Sherlock moving to grab a handful of her arse.

“Hmm, I like this. Fancy another round?” He smirks.

“I’m too tired, babe. Give me a bit.”

He can see the lazy smile on her face, the tiredness in her pretty eyes, so he wets a flannel, and begins to clean her up with gentle movements between tender kisses.

“How do you know how to do all of this?” She asks, inquisitive more than anything.

“Instinct, I suppose. I never read or learned about it, seeing as I never thought it would happen.”

She snaps the waistband before moving her hands to his waist, leaning up onto her toes to reach him, kissing her softly.

“Look at you now.”

After brushing their teeth in an amicable silence, their pinky fingers overlapping on the porcelain of the sink, he aids her back to the bedroom, settling her on the bed. She has things here: deodorant, toothbrush, moisturiser, and yet somehow she doesn’t have underwear, even after all these years. Perhaps that's one too many things to explain…

With superfluous extravagance, he throws her his shirt, offering her a wry wink. She finds a blush clawing its way onto her cheeks, dumbfounded. It smells like him, just like a forest glade if it was rained on by tea and cigarettes. Maybe he’ll let her keep it as a memory.

In such a short amount of time, she’s learnt that he has a very sensitive neck. Very. A single kiss there has him biting back a moan. A low one at that, considering his deep voice also drops almost an octave when he’s aroused. His nipples are almost as sensitive as his neck, and he rather likes it when she tugs on them unwittingly.

His first orgasm comes quickly, but his refractory period is astonishing, and it takes longer to achieve a second high, long enough to make her come more than once, she assumes, though her first orgasm was mind blowing enough for two. Perhaps that’s just because it’s his first time, but it’s impressive nonetheless.

What’s the point in learning all of this if, once he comes around from his post-orgasmic haze, he’ll pretend like it never happened, in typical Sherlock style?

The shirt, though a small gesture, means a lot, and her vision begins to cloud as she looks down at the black cotton.

“You mean you want me to stay?” She croaks.

Sherlock turns to her from his set of drawers, his face full of apparent obviousness, brows furrowed in that cute bewildered way.

“Of course I want you to stay.” He states, like it’s the plainest thing in the world, like it’s stupid for her to even ask. But she’s silent, and when she says nothing in response, he launches into a long winded explanation: don’t show sentiment. “I- I just mean, i-it’s midnight, I’m not having you out in London alone. You stay with me. Only if you want to as well...”

She nods eagerly, “Yes. Yeah, course I want to stay.”

He all but leaps access the room, jumping onto the bed, before planting a proper smooch on her lips, grinning down at her. He slips into his usual side of the bed, and she takes hers, rolling to look at him.

“Don’t get cold.” He warns, tucking the duvet up around her shoulders. She giggles like a child, that small snort sounding again, prompting Sherlock to press his thumb to her nose like a button. “How are you… feeling?”

“I’m fine bub, really. That bloke doesn’t matter to me at all. Bit of a scumbag if I’m honest. You’re the one I’m with, the one I wanna talk about. How are you feeling? Must’ve been a pretty big blow up with John for you to call me and be so... teary.”

He sighs, crestfallen, “He called me a machine.”

Her gasp pierces the air, her hand flying to his hair, stroking in consolation, cooing senseless reassurances to him. She’s done this innumerable times, but now it feels different, like there’s no barrier.

“He’s done it so many times that it needn’t bother me anymore, but the way he looked at me, like I was this abhorrent monster, especially after the day and the disappointing case we had, it got to me. I hate having feelings.”

“You don’t have to hide them with me, though.”

He hums gently, burying into her chest. “I know. That’s why I treasure you so dearly.”

“That means you also have to trust me, and you’re not going to like what I have to say.” His chest heaves, shifting her whole body. That’s his way of giving in. “Please just talk to John. You know that whenever he leaves, he’ll come back, and try to pretend it never happened. He needs to know you’re human and that he upset you, but also that the case upset you as well. No one’s superhuman, and once you let John in on the fact that you’re not a machine, things between you will be so much easier, because you might agree for once.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He grumbles.

He pulls her into his warmth, hooking her leg around his as he snakes his arms around her back, breathing deeply from the crook of her shoulder. She begins to pepper kisses on his salty skin, savouring the taste with every small swipe of her tongue.

“Your heart’s against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck,” he breaks off with a faint whimper when she sucks a little harder, “I’m falling for your eyes, but they don’t know me yet.”

“Of course they do,” she whispers brokenly, hoarsely, “they’ve always known you.” She swallows thickly, “Does that mean it’s a feeling you’ll forget?”

“No, I don’t think I ever can.”

The silent words that pass between them both are so special, too special to be spoken aloud. ‘Think I’m in love now.’

“Kiss me like you wanna be loved.” He begs.

And really, who is Y/N to deny him? They just stay that way a little while, revelling in their lazy kisses, until she begins to fall asleep. It isn’t the first time she’s fallen asleep in his bed, not by any means, but it’s the first time she’s fallen asleep in his arms. She isn’t mad about it.

“Settle down with me, cover me up, cuddle me in. You were made to keep my body warm.” She smiles into her words, and embeds herself into him, entirely covered by the duvet, spattered in his kisses, safe in his arms. Sherlock feels safe with her legs around him, her fingers in his curls, holding himself against her. Amicable silence is how they drift off, Peaceful.

John re-enters 221B at a respectable hour. He got a fair amount of sleep on Greg’s sofa, having no girlfriend in the picture right now, but not enough to deal with Sherlock just yet. Not before his coffee. He expects to see Sherlock sitting in the exact same spot as when he left, perhaps just with a refill of tea, his fingers still steepled beneath his chin, eyes closed yet wide awake. Instead, he arrives at a seemingly empty, considerably clean flat, with no Sherlock in sight. Perhaps the unsleeping man must actually be asleep, he thinks, so he quietens down, and toes off his shoes before wandering farther into the flat. Even if the man does piss him off extraordinary amounts, perhaps he should just check he’s okay…

He gives the bedroom door a quiet rap, listening in momentarily before pushing it open. Frankly, he’d rather have found Sherlock with a cigarette in hand and the whole flat torn to shreds for the level of surprise he gets upon reaching the bed. His first idea is to scream bloody murder, but that might annoy Mrs Hudson, and upon stepping closer, even in the sliver of daylight through the curtains, he sees the duvet riding down a little. The last thing in the world he ever thought he’d see: Sherlock in naught but boxers pressed against a half naked woman, his palm splayed on her bare thigh. Sherlock? Spooning? It seems so, his entire body pressed to this woman. John feels himself go rigid, his feet glued to the floor, his gaze unmoving from shock.

It takes his phone to buzz in his pocket to get him moving, and when he does, all he tries to do is balance precariously on his tip toes in a wry attempt to get a birds-eye view of the whole thing. He’s not disappointed, or disturbed, once he does, though, his army agility proving useful. Sherlock’s hand is holding her, fingers entwined, just next to her chest. He wonders how comfortable it is, but if they’re staying this way, it can’t be too bad. Maybe all Sherlock needed to loosen up was a good shag.

She’s wearing his shirt, too; Sherlock’s black dress shirt from the previous day. And Sherlock? He never seeps in anything less than a full set of pyjamas, he’s weird like that .

This girl begins to stir, her lips parting gently, small hums escaping. Next, her eyelids flutter, and her hair shifts on the pillow. He didn’t make any noise, did he? John was specifically careful not to, just in case. He doesn’t fancy Sherlock’s wrath just yet.

One eye opens, and she whispers, almost incoherently, “Hi John.”

How she knows his name and who he is, he’s not at all sure, because he doesn’t think he’s ever seen this face in his life. The hair is familiar, and maybe, if she were more awake, he’d recognise her smile, but he’s never seen a woman in Sherlock’s company beside Molly Hooper. Speaking of…

Before he can even say anything, though, before he can ask who she is or if she wants tea or if she date-raped his roommate, she’s mumbling, and detaching her hand from Sherlock’s, rolling over. Dumbfounded, John just stands there and watches her cuddle into Sherlock’s chest, her arms wrapping around his torso like second nature. Even in his sleep, not consciously thinking about his actions, he grips her back - one hand resting just above her bum, and buries his nose into her neck.

John can’t help but smile to himself. Maybe their fight was for the best if Sherlock now has a girlfriend, someone he turned to for solace. So, he grasps for the top of the duvet and pulls it up over both of their figures, reaching their shoulders, and leaves, staring wistfully for a brief moment at the seemingly happy couple.

The weight of the duvet of what startles Sherlock, though, stirring him a little, inviting him to him against Y/N’s skin, smiling with eyes barely open. This is really nice, he thinks to himself, not waking up alone.

She smiles back blearily, and in her morning voice, whispers to him, “Kiss me Mr Detective.”

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dreadwulf · 3 years

Text

prompt #1: The Green Knight

(Warning: Major Character Death. Not the Major Character you think. Be warned.)

The Green Chapel stands still and silent when the Golden Knight arrives.

Once he had expected a fine cathedral to await him at the of his journey, but by now he is unsurprised to find a crumbled ruin overgrown with ivy. Only the stone walls remain of this “chapel”. The sunken paving stones admit dirt and weeds between them enough that it is barely distinguishable from the forest floor, and the roof is long since fallen in. Everywhere it is overgrown with thick green leaves and vines, and surrounded by a canopy of trees that opens only enough to admit a slice of night sky directly above.

Ser Jaime Lannister enters watchfully, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

The Green Knight is nearly invisible to him at first: concealed in greenery, grown into the landscape as though part of it. The bark of his skin is encrusted with moss, leaving no visible gap between himself and the plants around him. Judging from the growth, the Knight has not moved in a long, long while.

Has he stood exactly here for the entire year, waiting for him? It looks more like a statue, or a tree carving. Something long abandoned. Much longer than a single year.

“Ser Knight,” he announces, “I have arrived per our agreement.”

Silence.

There is only him here, and a tree that looks only a little like a man.

He is early, Ser Jaime realizes. Will be it dawn of the day, or the very hour of their meeting? He may be here for some time. It will be hours to dawn, and it had been another sundown after that when the Green Knight had ridden into Robert’s court on his enormous steed.

One year hence, the Knight had said. Well, at least he is not late.

The pre-dawn hours are quiet here, and the grove is peaceful. The trees overhead open out onto a pretty sprinkling of stars, and all the noise of the forest and the brook which has lead him here has faded away. He can see why the locals call this the Green Chapel. It is the sort of place that encourages one to pray, and to contemplate, at least if one is given to introspection and piety.

Which he is usually not.

The Golden Knight quickly grows restless. Waiting is not a skill of his. He is impatient by nature, impetuous and impulsive. Faced with delay he will rush things ahead, or abandon his course. Unless, as in this case, he has no choice but to wait, and then he will be overcome with unease.

He paces. His fingers twitch. His gaze darts around, landing on this and that.

There is no sign of movement from the Green Knight.

If he had not seen him walking and talking, he might assume this to be only a sculpture, and not a living being. He might wonder if he had been tricked, and if some unseen enemy hovered nearby laughing at his predicament. But he has seen the Green Knight up close, and ran him through with his own blade, and watched as the great gnarled hands pulled the greatsword from his own breast as casually as a thorn from his finger, and tossed the weapon aside as though it were a child’s plaything.

His hands curl around the same greatsword at his belt. He has carried it for a year, this sword. It was his prize for accepting the Green Knight’s challenge, and ostensibly he is here to return it. When he does, the knight will return him the same blow, and stab him through the heart.

Was it worth it? What, after all, did he do with his fine sword?

Ser Jaime sighs and sits on the wet ground. He can grow no more muddy and disheveled than he is already. He left King’s Landing in his extravagant golden armor, wearing his lion’s helm, and riding the finest horse in his stable. But he arrives in the Green Chapel on foot, with no helm, dressed in shabby clothing and battered bits of armor. Even his golden hair is shorn, and only a thin growth of hair remains of his famous golden curls.

The only thing of value remaining to him is the sword. And to be quite honest, the Green Knight is welcome to it. If he could, he would exchange it for something much more valuable that he had found, and then lost, along the way.

It had taken many weeks to get him here. There were some diversions - misadventures, a strange episode in a Keep, and a good deal of wandering around lost - but he has come a very long way from Robert’s Court to find himself here. He had managed the journey only with the help of his squire.

The girl had joined him on the road on the very first day. She was part of the crowd that had followed him from the gates, those knight-hopefuls who so frequently followed his footsteps around the city. Most wanted some of his glory, hoped for it to spill onto them by mere proximity. Some wanted merely to see him meet his fate, others to be part of that tale if they could. But there was very little glory in this journey. They had been beset by bandits, wild animals, bad weather, and strange side-tracks from almost the very start

There had been six, even eight of them at a time, during the ride through the Westerlands, but as he traveled further and further from the capital and the weather worsened their number dwindled, and by the tenth night there was only her. Her name was Brienne. If she had another he has already forgotten it.

She was a strange girl, ungainly large, and dressed all in armor, in imitation of a knight. She had a face like rotten fruit, softly misshapen. Her straw-blonde hair, ruddy and pox-marked skin, and stubborn pout completed the picture. Her very presence proved subtly irritating. If a maid cannot be beautiful she might at least keep herself out of sight; or else be a servant, who are barely women to begin with.

His followers quickly decided to make a servant of her. This did not go well. Ser Jaime came upon her fighting three of the men on the third night. One of them had blood streaming from his nose already, another was sitting on the ground looking dazed from a blow to the head. The last was seemingly unfazed by the fate of the other two, and Ser Jaime observed him take a good punch to the chin that left him spitting out teeth. They were trying to steal her supper, she said. The girl should be cooking for us all, the men said.

“She is my squire”, Ser Jaime told them, deciding upon it at that very moment. “She will cook supper for only me.”

“Like hell I will,” the ungrateful wench spat at him.

Ser Jaime raised an eyebrow. “Do you wish to be a knight or not? First you must be a squire.”

She did at that. She did wish it, very much. He can see it in her eyes -- striking blue eyes, with a determined gaze.

Brienne did cook his supper, the next night, over the campfire. Not very well, and he did not insist again. But she also tended his armor and sword, and that she did very well indeed. She handled his greatsword with tremendous respect and care, such that it touched him to see. He had long since stopped being impressed by the blade, after carrying it for a year.

Brienne proved a loyal squire, if not the most typical one. When wolves attacked she proved herself courageous, stood herself well in front of older and more experienced men. When there was work to be done she would be first to do it, and without being asked: gathering firewood, tending the horses. Drudgery she avoided, but practical, necessary things she performed without complaint.

She had very blue eyes. Sky eyes, clear and bright. He would have liked to look at them, except that she would be looking back, and that seemed to frighten her. She did not like to look him in the face. A shy maid, for all her armor and prickly temperament. He liked to tease her, and tell bawdy jokes with the other men until her face turned a pleasant pink.

A skirmish with the Brave Companions lost three of his would-be-knights and all of their horses,and it lead to their capture for a brief time. When they managed to escape, they were left traveling afoot, and without their supplies. His other followers drifted off then, losing their taste for adventure. Only the girl remained, and walked beside him along the road North uncomplaining through the long days ahead.

She was good with a blade, better than most. Not so good as Ser Jaime, who had a prodigious talent. But on the occasions he challenged her to spar with him, she got his blood up and roaring in a way he had not felt since he was a young man himself, and all his adventures before him.

She was kind. Too reserved to be gregarious, but generous in spirit. She took pity on every foundling, every poor farmer and milkmaid they encountered along the way. She wanted to help them, rescue them all; if he had not restrained her they would have been fighting for the honor of each individual cow from the Westerlands to the Neck. She was much disappointed that they hadn’t. What is a knight for, if not that?

She would learn, as he once had. The Knights of Robert’s Kingdom were more tarnished than a starry-eyed squire suspected. Heroes and legends in tales were only men in the flesh, and men with a bit of money and renown all went the same way. Given the best of everything they would indulge themselves, would grow greedy, would came to expect what had once been freely given. They fought not for gods and country but for glory, and mainly fought each other. They plundered wealth and women, sat by roaring fires, went slow, went soft, forgot hunger and killing cold.

Honor was a facade, nothing more. To become a knight was to learn it. It made him glad she would never be knighted, and fail that lesson.

“Entertain me, squire,” he said to her as they rode side-by-side, needling her. “I have heard all of the songs and stories of this land, and they bore me. Tell me a tale of yourself, Squire Brienne. What adventures set you on this course to become a knight?”

She bowed her head. “I have no tales to tell, my lord. It is only a wish, and an aspiration. But I have no adventures but the one we are on now. But you, my lord, are a famous knight, and must have many stories to tell. I would be honored to hear them from your own lips.”

Ser Jaime had hundreds of tales. He has boasted of his adventures to innumerable audiences as they looked on him admiringly, the great Golden Knight. Wins at tourney, duels with other knights, riding to war for King Robert. But for some reason, as he turned them over in his mind, he discarded each of his favorite stories one by one. He did not want to tell them now; those stories are not for her.

“I also have no tales to tell,” he said.

“Are you not on a quest, my lord?” She looked over at him quizzically, her blue eyes innocent. “I hear tell you are riding to the Green Chapel in the north…”

“I am, and to meet the Green Knight. But even I am not so bold as to tell that tale when I do not yet know its ending. But it sounds like you could, Squire Brienne.”

Again she frowned at him for that title. But she did know the bare outlines of the story, how the strange Green Knight had rode into King Robert’s court and invited the bravest and boldest of his knights to face him in battle, to strike a single blow and receive a blow in return, and for it they would gain his greatsword as a prize. How the Golden Knight had taken up the challenge, and in a blow of great talent and precision stabbed the Golden Knight through the heart, finding the weakest point in his armor on a single try. But instead of falling down dead, the Green Knight had easily pulled the blade from his own chest and mounted his horse. He told the Golden Knight to meet him in one year at the Green Chapel, where he would return his blow.

“And I see you do not hesitate to keep your word,” Brienne concluded the tale. “You are as bold and brave as all the stories say. But what will you do when you get there?”

“Fight him, I suppose.” Ser Jaime’s hand tensed around the ruby-encrusted pommel of his borrowed sword.

“Ser?” She blinked back at him in confusion.

“What, you expected I would meekly bow my head and be murdered? Of course not.” Ser Jaime’s shoulders shook. “Twas not a fair bargain, when he has such dark magic that he can take a sword through the heart and survive. I have no such magic, and it isn’t a fair exchange.”

“But you did not have to strike a deathblow. By the bounds of the agreement you might have only scratched him, and taken only a scratch in return.”

Well, yes. In hindsight, that would have been wiser. If he had taken the time to think it over, he might have put that together. But by nature he rarely takes that time.

“He was a large and fearsome Knight, and I thought only to prevent the return blow. Of course if I had known he would survive it I would have acted differently. I know it now. And when I see the Knight this time I will fight him with everything I have, and he will fight me with everything He has, and we will see who is the victor.”

“But you made a promise…” She sounded faintly disappointed, and it irritated him greatly.

“It was a trick, girl. A trick to snare a knight by his honor. Would you have me die for a trick? What good will that serve? No, I will keep my appointment as promised, but he will have to work to land his blow against me. I’ll have my skill and my wit to defend me, as he had his magic.”

“Are you not afraid, Ser?”

“Afraid to fight? Never. It will be a fine duel, perhaps the finest of my life, and I am eager for it. It will be the battle that will make my legend, the kind that songs are sung of, and I look forward to that.”

Brienne said that she hoped to see it, and let the matter lie.

She did not see it, of course. They came to the Crossroads instead.

An inn stood at the crossroads, and cast-offs from the Riverlands sheltered there. Orphans and strays. Jaime and Brienne arrived only long enough to see a great many helpless faces before bandits came riding, meaning to plunder the kitchens, and carry off the women and children.

Jaime told the girls to run away as best they could, and aimed to do the same. If they were quick about it, the raiders couldn’t catch them all.

Brienne, on the other hand, meant to defend them. They would not survive alone in the forest, she said, and if the bandits took away the food, the little ones would starve.

“Better the bandits take them then, one or the other,” he said quickly, tugging at her. “But we had best retreat. We will not manage another fight in our condition, and not without more men.”

This was entirely reasonable, to him; better knights than he had often advised the same. There was no glory in failure, and certainly none in a pointless death in the middle of nowhere.

“No.” Brienne grew taller under his grasp, and would not be moved. “What good is a knight if he will not defend the innocent?”

“You stupid girl.” He holds her by the shoulders. “There is nothing you and I alone can do against so many men, no matter how skilled you are with a blade. They will surround us and cut us down -- it won’t even buy any time for your orphans. The best we can do is live to fight another day.”

“Someone must do something,” she says stubbornly. “I will not run.”

“Not to no avail! A battle is bravery, but this is suicide. It’s foolish, meaningless. It will make no difference whether you intervene or not - either way the women are taken and the children are killed. You will only add another body.”

“Someone must fight for them,” she insists. “Even if there is no hope. I am not enough, but if there is no one else, then it will be me.”

With that, she had shoved him in the larder, with a sudden and ferocious strength, and barred the door.

“Let me free, you stupid child!” He slammed his weight into the door sharply with his shoulder, enraged.

He could hear her through the door, her voice steady and clear.

“Someone must fight for them. If there is no one else, then it will be me.”

“Damn you,” he swore at her. “Open the door and I will fight with you. Two against a dozen is better odds than one. Open the door!”

“You have an appointment to keep,” she said, and then there was silence.

Jaime could not see what happened after that, but he could hear it. He could hear the disdainful laughter of the brighands, and the drawing of many blades. He could hear for a time the blades clashing, and much shouting, and one unfamiliar cry of pain, and for a brief moment he was hopeful that she might prevail. She was a talented swordfighter. If they fought her one at a time he had no doubt she could best them.

He could tell, even without seeing, that they did not. The fight turned, became a slaughter. He heard a single cry that he knew in his gut was Brienne, taking a blow she would not survive. There came more noise then, more steel and blows, and then the screams of the women and children being dragged from the Inn.

He screamed too. He wept, and clutched at his useless greatsword in a rage, wanting to throw himself through the door and impale himself on them like an arrow, these animals who would dare to touch a true knight. None of them seemed to hear him, or proved interested in the larder.

He didn’t know how long he had been left sitting there on the floor, with tears on his face and the earthy smell of raw meat weighting him down in the cool darkness. He waited for one of them, any of them, to remember him in the kitchens and come back, but no one did, and that was how he knew that no one remained. He wondered if he would be left there to rot. To moulder away with the bits of cheese and bread that remained there until he was nought but bones and a borrowed sword.

Eventually, quietly, a small boy with enormous eyes unbarred the door, having emerged from his hidey-hole only hours after the vicious intruders had left. Seeing Jaime huddled in the dark, he fled again and hid himself away in the Inn.

Jaime emerged into the twilight reluctantly. When he looked down the road, he imagined he could see them. The prisoners being taken away in the back of some wagon, women and children and women who were really children still, huddled together and weeping, down the long road and away. It was all for nothing, all of this. The brigands had taken them anyway.

There was no glory in this defeat. There was only a bloodstreaked trench in the mud where a terrible battle occurred, and in the middle of it a sad heap of metal. She was unrecognizable there, cut to pieces. Only a few strands of pale blonde hair remained to know her by.

The blacksmith’s armory had implements enough to break the cold ground. He dug a hole right beside the crossroads while the rain bucketed down on him. His chest hurt from the strangled sob caught in it. He put her in the hole and blanketed her again with the mud. If there had been flowers anywhere in that season in all the land he would have found them and laid them there above her grave. One day, he hoped, grass would grow.

It was a meaningless gesture, and made no difference to the blue-eyed girl. But it meant something to Jaime.

It was not meaningless to them, the shivering children and the sad-faced women riding away in the wagons. They had looked back, mournfully, at the place in the road where her body lay. Looked back down the long road, into the distance, through the rain and the trees and the tramping feet of the bandits’ horses and out of sight, and they kept looking. They would look back long after the rain and wind had wiped away any traces of what had happened there. They would not forget. When the enemy came for them, someone took up a blade in their cause. Someone thought they mattered. Someone thought they were worth dying for. They did not face their fate alone.

When evil comes, so long as at least one person stands against it, there is still some light left in the world.

He left the shovel there in the road and went back to the Inn. It took some time to locate the boy and persuade him to come out of the trunk where he had hidden himself. He carried the boy with him North to the next village, where he left him wordlessly at the Sept, and turned North again, alone.

The rain never stops now. The ground is crusted with snow and the air is wet and mossy and somehow the rains never wash anything away. It only soaks into the dirt and grime and ice and blood and weighs it down. Makes it heavier. Makes everything impossibly heavy.

There are more strange things that happen to him then: how the road curves and wanders beneath his feet and doubles him back to the start as though trying to throw him off his course. There were strange dreams, and visions, and he walks in a sort of fever. Nothing seems quite real after the Crossroads, nothing except the sword in his hand and his goal: the Green Chapel. He has an appointment to keep.

He grows only more determined to reach his destination.

The nights grow colder. He wakes up shivering, rolling over, trying to wake the embers of the fire, and every time his eyes open they are looking for the foolish girl in her armor. They find only blackness and he remembers then the crossroads and the hole he dug besides the road.

He missed her terribly.

He misses her still, sitting here before the Green Knight. It is a persistent ache, a weight that grows heavier by the day. It makes him feel ancient to contemplate. He sounds like one of the rusty old knights who cluster around Robert, lamenting the roads not taken, the women they might have settled down with. Lost loves. It has been only days and yet it seems like years ago, and a road already overgrown and impassable. He can see it already, the enormity of his mistake. His life might have become something entirely different, improbably better. The opportunity came to him, and he wasted it.

Brienne. The Maiden Knight. She could have been his lady love and his brother-at-arms all at once. Would anything have been so perfectly suited to him as that? He will never find her like again, and even if he did he would not want it; he will only want her, for the rest of his life.��

Jaime muses over these memories through the hours. The journey, the past, the world around him. Time seems to settle into a hazy blur.

The sun rises slowly, impossibly slowly. He cannot see it past the trees, but the world gradually brightens, with gentle insistence. The greens grow ever more lush and verdant all around him. The wall where the Green Knight stands turns from grim grey to a lively grass color, the dark ivy wound around in loops that seem to form an altar of deep mossy overgrowth around the still and sleeping form of the Knight.

His hands worry at the hilt of the greatsword that he had come to return. He might leave the blade on the altar and go. Would that fulfill his word?

What did Jaime do with his famous sword, during the year he had it? Only held it aloft for others to see. Used it to threaten, and to cajole. Boasted of it to other lords. But the only time he had just cause to draw it he had chosen to retreat instead, and in doing lost the only thing of any value he had ever found.

If only he had gone with her. Agreed right at the first, without hesitation. If he had stood at her side it might have ended differently. One had no chance, but two, perhaps, might have survived. He might have taken her with him to the Green Chapel. He might have taken her home to the King. He might have seen her made a knight, and stood proudly beside her at the king’s table. The tales he might have made with her, he would be proud to tell.

The Knight’s form comes into clearer and clearer relief: looming over him, impossibly tall, improbably wide.

Jaime knows with cold certainty that the Knight is going to wake very soon. As the light grows stronger, the Green Chapel is waking around him with a thousand tiny movements. He can almost make out the subtle sound of leaves uncurling to the sun, and worms crawling in the earth.

The sword, Oathkeeper, quivers in his hands, as though outraged. How did he dare to carry that blade to this place intending to lie? To break his promise? More and more he thinks he did not. He came here for something else entirely.

Jaime finds, for the first time that he can remember, his hands are trembling. It is one thing to go to battle, but another entirely to go to an execution. His heart beats in his ears with a deep drumbeat of doom... doom... doom...

He’s not here to fight a duel, is he? What, then, is he here for?

Glory? Judgement? Mercy? Absolution?

Or only the cold, mechanical means of his inevitable end?

Was all this journey only for that? Is he truly here only to get a blade through his chest? And if so, might it be worth his while? After all, is there any better way for a knight to die? Will it not be a fitting end to his legend?

But he isn’t ready to die. Not willingly. Not without redeeming his honor, making something of himself. If he had another year… but would he do any more with that than he had the last? Than he has with all of the years thus far? Is there any amount of time that would make any more of himself than he has already?

The time he needed was these weeks on the road with Brienne. That showed him what kind of man he’d like to be. But he failed her when it mattered most. Perhaps he should be judged for that. Not a year from now, nor twenty. Today.

The sun rises higher in the sky, and paints the Green Chapel gold. The air warms, and birdsong calls to him on the breeze. The day is relentlessly pleasant, with a promise of endless more such days to follow. A bittersweet longing fills him. It has never seemed half so lovely to be alive as it does in this beautiful place. If only he could have brought her here.

I will be brave, he says to himself. Like Brienne.

All at once there is a great creaking sound of wood bending and tearing, and when Jaime looks up the green altar is moving. Green leaves tremble and wave purposefully, and twigs and small branches snap and fall away to rest in the dirt below. The trunk of the altar pulls itself free, excavates itself from the enclosure in the leaves and branches. Limbs pull free, and something nearly human rises out of the green, the bark of its skin glistening, newborn.

The Green Knight is standing.

Jaime looks up, and up, and up, from where he sits on the mossy floor of the green chapel, and his hand grips the hilt of his sword.

He is ready to fight, by instinct, and to flee, by sudden impulse. He is afraid, he realizes, afraid in a way he has never been before. There is more than a blow to the heart to fear here. There is the fate of his soul, which is suddenly entirely in question. Before his journey he had no doubt of his own worth as a knight, and now he is just as certain in the opposite direction. Is he worthy? He is not. He is not.

Slowly, he stands. The sun shines down on him through the same corridor in the trees where he had watched the stars the night previous, and its warmth is a rebuke; why should the sun shine upon one such as him? He is the golden knight no more. He is only a man, a man with a sword that does not belong to him.

His eyes raise last of all.

Jaime finds through the golden light the Green Knight’s face. The eyes first, through a thin bloom of leaves and moss, and then the nose, the jawline. He has never seen it so clearly before, not even when he had stabbed her through the heart. With slow realization his eyes travel down and up again, taking in the shape of his host, and her nature.

The Green Knight is a woman? Why didn’t he realize it before?

It seems only too clear now. The slight narrowing of the waist and wrists, and in the face… not a pretty face, but undeniably feminine. Full lips, round cheeks, and the eyes...

Blue eyes. Beautiful blue, sad blue, noble and sorry. The lost blue of long-forgotten clear skies.

When he sees them his hands stop shaking. All is well. His grand sword slips from his fingers and settles softly in the grass, sinks gently into the ground, is welcomed.

“It’s you,” he says. “I’m glad it’s you.”

The girl from the Crossroads is standing before him.

He doesn’t understand how it is possible. Was she always the Knight? Was all an illusion? Was the Knight in disguise when he met her, or was the Knight once that girl? But it doesn’t matter. Whoever she is, she is here now, and it is good and right that this happen to him.

Her voice is low and rusty, like a hinge that has not moved in many years, and slow in its opening.

“You... kept... our appointment,” the Knight creaks.

His mouth is gone dry. “One year hence. You gave me time enough. And so I am here.”

He thinks he sees her smile, faintly. With the crackling sound of breaking branches, the Knight gestures to his feet.

“You... dropped your sword... my Lord.” Ser Jaime glances down at Oathkeeper, already disappearing beneath the twining vines on the forest floor. “Is it not time... for our blades to cross? A duel to make your legend?”

“I made you a promise,” he says faintly, and puts a hand over his unguarded heart. “It seems my word is all I have, and if it means nothing to anyone else, it means something to me.”

She smiles. An oaken hand reaches out and touches him on the face, gently. “My brave knight.”

Her eyes are the bluest skies he has ever seen. He is not afraid. Not anymore.

“Are you ready?” she asks him, still stroking his cheek.

“Yes.” He is eager for it now. “Strike your blow.”

“Straight through the heart,” she agrees. Then she reaches out with her other hand to touch the other side of his face.

She kisses him.

#dreadwulf fic #jaime lannister #braime

57 notes · View notes

metalheddie · 3 years

Text

In Full Bloom

summary: Spencer goes to the flower shop 1 (one) time and falls in love somehow.

tw: mention of medication, Diana's care facility, Diana lashing out mention

word count: 3.9k

a/n: Alright y'all!!! It's finally here! My first ever fic :) I apologize if some of it is a bit clunky or awkward... this is my first time writing and posting anything like this. I hope y'all like this as much as I liked writing it! and this is a Spencer x POC!reader :)

It was early Saturday morning when y/n opened her shop. Unlocking the doors and stepping inside. It was raining pretty heavily, too. She closed her pastel pink umbrella and put it in the basket next to the door. She stopped to take a deep breath, she loved the smell of fresh flowers in the morning. She walked towards the back to turn on her fairy lights and low lighting for her plants and put on her pastel apron with embroidery on the trim. She turned the radio on to the oldies station and Etta James’ Stormy Weather was playing,

Don't know why

There's no sun up in the sky

Stormy weather

Since my man and I ain't together

Keeps raining all of the time...

A perfect song for this morning. Singing to herself, she twirled as she moved towards her supplies, she got to work caring for her flowers and miscellaneous plants around her space.

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A few hours later, a light ting of the bell above the door of the flower shop sounded. Y/n hadn’t looked up from the bonsai she was trimming, as she was too immersed in her work to realize someone had walked in. When she finally looked up, she was surprised to see a tall and handsome stranger staring back at her. In that instant, she felt her heart stop for an eternity. He stood there a bit awkwardly as he waited to be helped. Snapping out of the trance she had previously been in, she walked over to the counter where he was standing.

“Hey there! How can I help you today?”

Her face slightly flushed but it wasn’t so noticeable on her tawny brown skin.

“Hi, um, can you help me find some flowers for- for my mom?”

Y/n noticed that he says this a bit sheepishly, almost as if he’s embarrassed to be getting flowers for his mom. Or maybe he’s just awkward, who’s to say?

“Sure! Is there anything specific you’d like to say with this bouquet?”

“Um, yes...well I just wanted to let her know that I appreciate her and I love her very much. She hasn't been feeling well recently, so I wanted to do this small thing for her just to let her know I’ll always be here…”

Y/n smiled at that. It was always so nice to see a man value his mom so much. It warms her heart.

“Aww, well I'm so sorry that she hasn’t been feeling well. I think that's so sweet of you to do this for her. I get my mom flowers when she’s not feeling well too” y/n says with a smile.

“So,” she says, clapping her hands together softly, “I think the best flowers to get her would be Carnations, pink of course, and daisies!”

Y/n excitedly moves around the counter and beckons him to follow her. He does this with a small smile, admiring how animated she had become.

“Why those specific flowers?” he asks.

“Well,” Y/n started, “Did you know that Carnations symbolize the love for a mother as well as the phrase 'I will never forget you’ ” The daisies mean innocence, motherhood, and purity. That meaning stems from the old Celtic legend. In Norse mythology, it’s known as Freya’s sacred flower. Freya is the goddess of love, beauty, and fertility, so it only makes sense that this would be her flower!” y/n continued excitedly.

The man nodded along in interest, all the while y/n was collecting and arranging the flowers in a lovely bouquet, putting them in a small and tasteful vase. She brought them over to the counter to ring him up, fixing the flowers as she went.

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Spencer’s POV

While on my way to my mom’s care facility, I saw a quaint little flower shop at the corner of the intersection. I decided to stop in and get some flowers for her. She hasn’t been doing well recently… She’s been lashing out at the nurses and is almost always agitated. Hopefully, this small act will remind her of all the love there is in life.

As I pull into the parking lot of the shop I notice the sign, hand-painted with a unique border that reads Fantasy Flower Shoppe. The side of the building is covered with several winding paths of ivy, truly giving it a fairytale cottage feel. The railing up the steps to the entrance has the ivy as well, acting as a guide to the sage green door.

I stepped through the door, mesmerized at the inside of the shop. There were plants and flowers hanging from the ceiling, on wooden tables, in large pots on the ground, and even in a large misty cabinet on the east wall. A small record player radio hybrid was nestled in between a budding avocado tree and a pot of budding bluebells softly playing what I believe to be I’ve Got a Crush on You by Ella Fitzgerald…

I've got a crush on you, sweetie pie

All the day and nighttime, hear me sigh

I’ve never had the least notion

That I could fall with so much emotion…

I looked around the room, searching for someone who could help me, that's when I laid eyes on the most beautiful girl in the world. She had dark, curly hair that fell to her shoulders wrapped in a cream-colored silk bandanna. She wore a cocoa brown dress with a beige long sleeve shirt underneath and an apron with what looks to be hand-embroidered flowers on the hem. I felt as though I was put under her spell as I gazed at her. She hadn’t looked up from her work, being so focused on trimming her bonsai, she hadn’t realized I had walked in.

I let my eyes linger on her a bit longer as I appreciated her focus. She must have felt my eyes on her, for she looked up and met my eyes. I quickly turned away, as to not make her feel uncomfortable, but also to hide the redness rising high on my cheeks. I suddenly realized what I came into the shop for in the first place.

“Hi, um, can you help me find some flowers for- for my mom?” I stuttered out, cursing myself internally for it.

She smiled sweetly and agreed to help me pick out the best flowers for her. She suggested I get Pink Carnations and daisies. I already knew that those would be the best choice, but I loved the sound of her voice. So as an excuse to continue to listen to her, I asked

“Why those specific flowers?”

I watched her eyes light up with a passion I never knew existed and proceeded to tell me the meanings and origins of both flowers.

“-so it only makes sense that this would be her flower!” she said

I nodded along in interest as if I didn’t already know the answer. She became so animated when she talked about the things she cares about. It was refreshing after being in the BAU for this long and witnessing so much hate and sorrow that came with the job. Seeing someone filled with passion and liveliness when it comes to making a career out of their hobbies was a wonderful thing. All this was not to say that I didn’t like being in the BAU. I wouldn’t be able to leave my family there, not now anyway.

Speaking of family, I need to go to the care facility before visiting hours are over.

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Y/n POV

I set the flowers on the counter, tying a silk ribbon around the vase just to add a little flair.

“Alright! That’ll be $10.50.” I said with a smile.

I look up from the register to see him staring at me with a crooked smile. God, he was cute. I wish I was confident enough to ask for his number… Hopefully, I’ll see him again someday. After admiring his features for what seemed like a lifetime, I realized we’ve just been staring at each other since I looked up at him. I start to get a bit insecure. Why has he been staring so long? Is there something on my face? Oh my god is that pesky pimple back?

As y/n was internally freaking out, Spencer on the other hand was basking in her beauty. He couldn’t believe he was standing in the presence of such an ethereal being like her. Her… Oh god. He doesn’t even know her name.

“Um,” y/n stuttered, “Hello? Are you alright?” She lifted her hand to wave it in front of his face to get his attention.

“Oh! I- I- uhh, Sorry about that. I got a bit distracted…” Spencer stumbled over his words like a teenager in love. “What was the total again?” he asked embarrassedly, a blush rising from the bottom of his chest to the tip tops of his ears.

“Oh, um it was $10.50,” she repeated with a newfound shyness, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

Spencer tried not to fumble with his wallet too severely in an effort to save himself any further embarrassment in front of the pretty florist. That plan failed miserably because as soon as he pulled out his cash, several coins flew out of his wallet. He muttered a quick ‘I’m so sorry as he bent down to get them.

What he didn’t notice was y/n bending down to help him. As she collected the few that fell over by the counter and he collected the ones on his side, they both stood up slightly too close together and headbutted each other. It wasn’t hard enough to leave a bruise or bump, but enough to send a shock through both of them.

Y/n stumbled hard enough from the collision and surprise that she almost toppled over. At the last second, the handsome stranger reached out and grabbed her hand, effectively steadying her.

Rubbing her forehead y/n said “I'm so sorry! Are you alright?”

Letting go of her hand, Spencer replied “Oh, no I’m sorry, I didn't even realize you were right there. Is your head ok?” He was genuinely worried if she was ok.

“Oh, I’m fine, no need to worry!” y/n giggled.

Spencer set the money on the counter and put his wallet away. Y/n rang him up and gave him his receipt.

“Oh, wait! Before you go, I wanted to ask if you wanted to add a small card or note…free of charge” y/n said, the last bit a little sheepishly because of what (she hoped) she was implying. Unfortunately for her, Spencer was very dense when it came to flirting, so he didn’t pick up what she meant.

“Really? Thank you…”

y/n grabbed a card with a pretty border and one of her fountain pens. She looked up at him and nodded, waiting for him to start speaking.

“Live the wonderful life that is in you. Let nothing be lost upon you. Be always searching for new sensations. Be afraid of nothing. I love you, mom. Love, Spencer.”

y/n smiled at that. This was one of the sweetest bouquets she’s ever had the pleasure of putting together, too bad he’ll be gone before she knows it.

“Well Spencer, you're all set! Thank you for stopping in today, I hope to see you again soon,” she says with a smile. Although this encounter was fleeting, she was enamored with him.

“Thank you for all your help. I wouldn't have been able to do this,” he gestured to the vase full of flowers, “without you, um, I’m so sorry I never got your name...”

“Y/n,” she supplied. “and it's no problem! Stop in whenever you'd like!”

With that, he walked out with a small wave and a smile. Y/n sighed happily, knowing that the rest of her day was going to go very well.

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Spencer’s POV

Once I left the shop and was on my way to the care facility, I realized I couldn't stop thinking about her. Like she put me under her spell as soon as I laid my eyes upon her. I want to see her again but it’s not like I get flowers all the time for people… Maybe I should do that, for the sake of the economy and helping out a small business. Also, it makes people feel appreciated, so what's not to like about getting and giving flowers?

By the time I decided that buying flowers for people would be my new gift-giving method, I had arrived at the care facility. I took a deep breath and exited the car. I was nervous to see what kind of day my mom was having. The last time I talked to her nurses, they said she wasn’t doing as well as they had hoped once they put her on new medication. I, of course, still wanted to visit her. She’s my mom, the person that has been there for me always.

After checking in and locating her I greeted her with a smile and a warm hug.

“Oh, Spencer! I’ve missed you so much! I have to tell you about this poem by Jane Austen I read the other day…”

“I can’t wait to hear it, mom.” He said. He was so glad she was having a good day. He wanted to tell her about y/n after she said her piece.

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“ ...and that's why I can never read it again without thinking about Stevie Nicks!” exclaimed Diana.

Spencer was having such a nice time with his mom and he must have lost track of time because when he looked at his watch it was almost the end of visiting hours. It completely slipped his mind to tell his mom about the beautiful girl who runs the flower shop.

“Mom… Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asks, a little out of the blue considering the conversation they were having before.

“Well Spencer, that’s a pretty hard question to answer. I think it all depends on the other person's first impression that they may have had on you before even opening their mouth to speak. Though I’m not sure if I’ve ever experienced that feeling firsthand…” she answered honestly.

Spencer sat there contemplating the advice he was given and said

“I met this girl today… She owns the flower shop just a few minutes away from here. She helped me pick out the flowers I gave you. She was kind and so smart. She knew the meanings of the flowers off the top of her head like it was nothing. Her smile could light up any room and I could tell she was so passionate about her job. I would like to think she would be my first experience of love at first sight…” he rambled hoping he didn’t sound foolish.

Diana looked at him and shook her head lovingly.

“She sounds wonderful, Spencer. Please tell her thank you from me the next time you see her.”

And with that, visiting hours were over and it was time for him to head home.

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The Next Day

The next day Spencer Reid walked into the bullpen with a smile on his face and a pep in his step. He was still a bit giddy from the encounter he had yesterday, playing it over and over in his mind. The perks of having an eidetic memory. Since he works with a bunch of profilers, they were able to analyze his cheerfulness and boil it down to-

“So who’s the special lady?” Derek asked as he walked up to Spencer’s desk with two mugs in his hand, one labeled ‘Spencer Reid’.

Spencer froze, trying to make up a lie to explain his cheerful mood. “I- uh, I was j-just visiting my mom yesterday and she was having a really good day. No other ‘ladies’ in my life, thank you” he said as he snatched his mug from Derek. Tasting it and mentally noting that it needed more sugar.

Derek looked at him and obviously wasn’t convinced, but he dropped it, for now, settling for “Alright pretty boy, if you say so…” he chuckled and walked away, leaving spencer glowing red at his desk.

He folded his arms on his desk and put his head between them to hide his blush. If the day kept going on like this, he might turn into a permanent tomato.

A few hours later, after finishing his paperwork for the case they had finished a few days ago, he headed to Penelope’s office just to visit. In all honesty, she was just as much his best friend as Derek, just in a different way. She always gave him some much-needed positivity in his everyday life, and he will always be forever grateful to her for that.

As she walked into her lair she turned in her swivel chair and greeted him with a happy smile.

“What's Cookin good-lookin?” she teased, hearing from Morgan that something was up with him.

“Ha ha very funny Garcia.” he joked with her internally cursing Morgan for spilling the non-existent beans.

“Sooo…. Who’s the lucky lady that has caught the eye of the wonderful Junior G-Man?” Garcia teased, yet genuinely curious.

“There’s no girl I swear!” he lied through his teeth, and pretty badly at that.

Penelope shot him a look that said “Do not lie to the omnipotent being that is moi, I know all”

Spencer sighed and sat in the other spinny chair in her office and said,

“Yesterday I went to the little flower shop near my moms care facility just to do something nice for her because she hasn't been doing well recently,”

Garcia frowned a little at that and put her hand on his knee, comforting touches are just her thing and he knows that, so he doesn’t push her away, he places his hand on top of hers. He knows how much he cares.

“It was beautiful n there, but what really caught my eye was the girl working there… She was beautiful. She was so kind and she was incredibly smart. Her eyes were like honey in the sun and I’m sure she’s artistic because the sign out front was hand-painted… but all that aside, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her.” he continued.

Garcia was practically vibrating in her seat with excitement as he finished. She was just so excited to see him happy.

“Spencer oh my god! She sounds perfect! You need to ask her out like today.” she said while turning to her computer. Spencer has a feeling of what her next question is so he says,

“No, Garcia, I will not tell you her name so you can do a deep dive on her life.” as he side-eyes her. Her face contorted into a pout at his words.

“But Spencer please~, “ she begs. “I can find out all her favorite places so you can take her there for your date!”

“No Garcia… I want to get to know her properly. No FBI intervention. Plus, I want her to take me to her favorite spots because she wants me to, not because I already know what she likes…” he states as he imagines what going on a coffee date with y/n would look like.

“Alright alright fine, but pinky promise that you’ll fill me in on all the details when you eventually take her on a date.” She said while holding her pinky out for him to accept.

“Deal.” he said as he locked pinkies with her.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

As y/n went to start cleaning up for the evening, the light ting of the bell above the shop sounded once more. As tired as she is, she turns and slaps a happy smile on her face

“Hi welcome in! How can I help you today?”

As she turns she sees the handsome man from yesterday, Spencer, if she remembers correctly. He looks even more adorable than before with his sweater vest and all-star chucks. She smiles genuinely now, tucking her curls behind her ears in an attempt to seem more casual.

“Hi again… I um I needed to get some flowers for my friend. She just announced that she’s having another baby and I wanted to congratulate her with something other than future baby items because unfortunately, I have no idea what I would get for her if I went down that route…” he trailed off, stuffing his hands in his pockets and making the Awkward White Person smile, obviously nervous and giving himself away with the rambling.

Y/n was so excited at the news of a baby she immediately got to work.

“Oh my goodness how exciting! Does she know the gender yet?” she asked just so she can accurately style the bouquet.

“Yeah! She’s having a little boy.” He smiles at that and he visibly relaxes. Y/n takes that as a sign that he’s warming up to her a little.

After half an hour of picking out the perfect flowers and placing them into a large vase, y/n finally tied a blue silk ribbon around the neck of it. She added a few finishing touches and voila! Her masterpiece was complete.

All the while Spencer was standing on the other side of the counter watching her work with such adoration in his eyes. He enjoyed watching her work. Adding flair and certain specializations to every bouquet to make them each unique.

After finishing y/n peers to the side of the large vase of flowers to look at Spencer in the eyes. To her surprise, he’s already leaned over and looking at her too. They share a brief moment of admiration of each other before getting embarrassed and looking away like a couple of high school kids.

“So, since this is a gift for a friend, It’ll be on the house…” she says desperately hoping he’ll pick up on the hint this time.

“Oh my god...I - I can’t let you do that. Here,” he takes out his wallet and tries to pull out 35$ in cash.

y/n reaches over and puts her hands over his. “That’s not necessary, really. I don’t mind…” she says this with a warm smile. Just being able to spend these few fleeting moments with him in her shop has brought her so much joy.

“Thank you… That’s so generous of you, but I can’t just let you give me a whole flower arrangement without something in return…” he stalls. “Would you let me take you out for coffee? I know a great spot near the farmers market, and it has a flower booth too…” His hands are trembling a bit but she doesn’t notice because she’s smiling so hard her cheeks are beginning to feel sore.

She nods enthusiastically and says “Yes. Of course, I’ll go out with you.”

She slides him a piece of paper with her number on it and leans over to kiss him on the cheek. He accepts it and flushes so brightly, it rivals that of the sun. They wave goodbye after scheduling their date for Saturday, and y/n could tell that soon this relationship would be in full bloom.

Fin~

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judyhopps934-mt-zd · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on Lies

Warning: Spoilers! And possibly having your heart torn into pieces. Other than that, have fun!

We open up with Marinette figuring out the recipes for the power ups as the new guardian.

I am disappointed that she still has not stopped oogooling over Adrien when he appeared on the news. Especially since she was allegedly with Luka by then. (I'll explain what I mean in just a minute)

Adrien was tired after the day he had as Adrien, which is a contrast of what Marinette believes his life is like. But being Chat Noir is the highlight of his day...

...only to not see Ladybug show up for patrols. And we see that it was all due to her figuring out the powerups.

Also, the patrols are a thing in cannon and I am still not over it after "Truth".

Chat Noir hoping for an akumatization so he can escape his civilian life radiated the same energy as Alya asking for akumatizations to interview the temporary heroes on her IG post. I get it, but still! We do not have people in danger for our needs.

Plagg being the one who announces any voice messages for Chat and asking for cheese through the feature on the Chat Phone brings me a whole other level of life.

Also, the whole milk thing at Le Grand Paris bar counter. It was hilarious, but also very sad. He really missed his m'lady

He ends the patrol after he saw Kagami training with her mom. And the smiles on his face! *Cries in Marichat and Ladynoir*

Plagg is the one that encourages Adrien to move on from Adrien, just like he applauded him from doing so in Loveater.

Kagami apparently said that fencing lessons are scheduled an hour in advance and Adrien (with that goofy grin on his face) knew what was up!

Both Ms. Tsurugi and Gabriel are very pissed at one another for the schedule change. That's hilarious, although everything comes at a price.

The parallels! Kagami is apparently learning Russian at her mother's request. Truly is a reflection of Adrien, civilian life wise.

Kagami? Lying???? The hell???? Who are you and what have you done to Kagami????? (Why am I surprised, y'all did this in Desperada)

She lies to their parents and the teacher to be in the art room with Adrien. I get it, teenage rebellion after being under an uninvolved parent, but still!

I like how the writers gave Kagami another dimension by saying she loves art, but her mom does not like her passion for drawing.

To Kagami's mom: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOUR DAUGHTER IS NOT GOOD ENOUGH???!!! HER DRAWINGS BELONG IN A MUSEUM!

Also, art reflecting the truth? Hmmm.....

Since people like mentioning that Marinette has a thing for people with absent parents after "Truth", I will now say that Adrien has a thing for people who are great at drawing. I do not take criticism.

Kagami is hinting that Adrien's civilian life is not his true self (thank you for understanding him!)...

...but also says that being a "clown" (it was the Chat pose) is also not who he really is. The fandom would disagree with you. Although that brings up the question of whether both personalities merge to form who he really is and cannot be seen completely by anyone in any part of his life. But he is more like Chat Noir regardless.

Also, I want to see Adrien and Kagami spend more time together prior to this episode to see why she was not pleased with him being a clown if that's who he truly is, because her repositioning him against the wall made me feel like she is trying to place Adrien into a mold that reflects the image she might have created in her mind. (I don't know, this was just the first thought that came in my mind.)

They almost kiss, with Adrien being taken into shock (not terrified as we thought) until the alarm saying they have fencing lessons starting interrupts them and Adrien runs out, not before BLUSHING LIKE HELLO?!?!?

This is what I referred to in my second point and confirms what everyone was saying about this episode: this is "Truth", but through Adrien's perspective. Finally, an Adrien-centered episode!!!

To continue, every time Adrien and Kagami are together or were about to kiss, a sentimonster appears, with Ladybug trying to do something about it. Just like Lukanette, just like Adrigami: being a superhero affects your love life as a civilian.

Chat being thrown off the roof by accident and being rescued will never get old or less funny lol.

Montages continues up until the boat scene, where Adrien missed the intro to the performance, but I will never get over the fact as to how Adrien made it there before Marinette. It is beyond me.

Kagami not letting Adrien stay for 5 more minutes. Hmm...

Their cute moment together was what will lead to the demise of Adrigami as Kagami noticed he dropped the infamous lucky charm bracelet. *le gasp!

Why *le gasp*? Because 1) I fear it symbolizes that something will happen to Adrienette or that Adrien has forgotten about her, and 2) Wait until later.

Kagami revealed she lied so she can spend more time with Adrien alone, lying about leaving rehearsal earlier, lying about the fencing lessons rescheduling, and who else knows what else so she can be with him.

She tells him she loves him. But Adrien notices Ladybug and an Akuma. Oh boy, he wasn't able to give her any attention.

Because he left towards the direction of the boat (and said he left something there), Kagami used that to conclude it had something to do with Marinette. Oh boy.

Either I missed an entire scene about Ladybug knowing ShadowMoth's name, or we were not supposed to know how they know until this episode. It feels out of place to me, but oh well.

"I..am...AN INCREDIBLE SWIMMER!" still cracks me up even when I know how important it was in protecting her secret identity.

Happy Birthday Prince Ali!

Apparently, Kagami lied that her mom was in charge of watching over Adrien (or maybe not? I can't tell at this point.)

Yep, Kagami believes that Adrien is going after Marinette and probably resents them both if her facial expression says anything

We get to see that Ladynoir moment from "Truth"!! I love these two and their banter.

Adrienette stans, not much has changed. Adrien was concerned that he lost the Lucky Charm bracelet, for real. But said again because he though he would be clear of the lie since he thought he had it on him.

Kagami confronts him with it. AND THIS IS HIS SHOCKED FACE SCENE FROM THE TRAILER!!!

Thinking that she lies to get out of being with her, she leaves. With the bracelet. The leaving part is understandable, especially because she does not know about him being Chat Noir or what entails him to do. But why take the bracelet???

Adrien is also saddened by what happened. He also liked her.

We've never seen that part of city hall. Well designed in my opinion.

She was the akuma in City Hall with the glowing sphere! We were right!!!

Adrien feels guilty, though it is not really his fault. He has a duty to Paris!

Why is the music sounding different in French.

Jagged Stone. How do I feel about you after learning you purposefully abandoned Luka and apparently Juleka? Also, what's with the song??? (Rhetorical question. Do not answer)

We were wrong about Kagami's power: it paralyzes people who lie, not kill everything in its path.

Jagged, you abandoned your children. And you apparently lied about your age?!?!?! Both episodes show something about Jagged Stone that make him seem like an awful person on the inside.

Ladybug, how do you know about Lies's powers?!?!? There is a hole in the plot here! Unless there were other paralyzed civilians that gave her power a dead giveaway.

Chat Noir, if you lie as a civilian for whatever reason, of course Ladybug will too, since as a civilian, you need to lie to keep your secret identity a secret. Same rules apply to Ladybug, especially as the guardian.

The Lucky Charm is a drone, not a camera like I thought. How the hell did I get into an ivy if I can't tell the difference?!?!

Chat Noir pretending to lie is funny. It might also be his peppy attitude to lying. Also, his funnier version of ShadowMoth's name.

Ladybug finds the akumatized object and gasps. I wonder if its only a eureka moment or also the fact that she recognizes the bracelet, especially if its custom made.

Brutally honest people does not exist (we have all lied at some point, even Kagami who is usually brutally honest with people), but animals can't lie.

Fang being involved in destroying the akuma is cool.

This is the moment that we dreaded so much, yet knew was coming: CHAT NOIR DIES!

JK! He actually is paralyzed by truth because he jumped into the glowing orb. We were right that this is an anguishing scene to watch, but we're wrong about the part that he's killed. Yet, he still unnecessarily sacrificed himself and caused Ladybug to be angst about it.

WHAT IS UP WITH CHAT NOIR BEING HAPPY ABOUT SACRIFICING HIMSELF?!?!? AND DO NOT SAY ITS BECAUSE HE TRUSTS LADYBUG!

Yes Ladybug. Chat is crazy. And also crazy for you. And you are right about the crazy unconscious part. My Ladynoir heart!

ShadowMoth almost won until Fang bit off the charm bracelet. Thanks Fang!

Chat backing away from Fang licking him is a mood.

My favorite Ladynoir moment of the evening: Ladybug telling Chat to stop sacrificing himself and Chat saying she likes her adorable angry face. Her smirk afterwards.. And then their pound it.

But no seriously Chat. You need to stop doing that to Ladybug. She cannot take it anymore

Plagg said that even if Adrien loves someone else, he is likely to go back to Ladybug. Just like he goes back to Camembert. Seriously, despite his cheese analogies, he gives great wisdom.

Not Kagami almost beating up Adrien during his fencing lessons. And Mr. D'Angercourt notices this too as he stopped Kagami's final blow.

Also, isn't it illegal in fencing to push people? Oh boy.

And there's the Adrigami breakup scene: Adrien telling Kagami that he enjoys their time together and Kagami knowing their is sincerity in him. It is sort of unclear who actually ended things when Adrien asks if they could still be friends, but Kagami ends it all by saying that she will let him know once she can face him again. Ouch.

Adrien is hurt and stares at the lucky charm bracelet with what looks like sadness. Once again ouch.

Like Lukanette, I want to see Adrien and Kagami be happy together at least until halfway through this season. The issue is that it will hurt them more in the end.

Also, I noticed the difference between Luka and Kagami when ending their respective relationships. It hurt them both, but Kagami was more forward about it and Luka was somewhat passive. It could be based on what they know about their now exes (Luka knew that Marinette had feelings for Adrien and was not secretive about it even when they were together if the truths her friends said and the opening scene to this episode reflect this, whereas Kagami only has a suspicion and Adrien does not say anything regarding to it.

Also, I really did not like how the breakup on this end resulted in. While more realistic for a lot of people, it did not help that it involved Kagami as there are people who will go after Kagami after watching this episode, and I believe that the writers know this. Kagami is a good person who has a different response to the trust issues and lack of communication, as well as lies in their relationship. Not saying its a perfect one, but an understandable one. In conclusion, don't trash Kagami, especially if you saw this coming.

I take back what I said before; this is my favorite Ladynoir scene. I want to hug them both because they have to lie and keep secrets from everyone, even have some secrets between themselves! But at least they can trust each other! Excuse me while I cry over how much we are being fed. Also, the fact that they broke up with their respective partners makes this both heartwarming and heart breaking.

Overall, this episode is just as good as Lies! It is the first fully Adrien-centered episode, which makes this a first and already exciting. While I did not like how their breakup was handled, it was realistic and showed that honesty and communication are important. Also, can my children be happy together for longer than an episode??? I swear, their pain hurts me.

But at least Ladybug and Chat Noir have each other's company to get them through. May us Ladynoir stans continue to be fed!

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