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#Iris Flower Show
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... the fact that "take to a flower field" is Dent's idea of cheering someone up...
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scarabiaa · 11 months
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Sol, here's a question for you (to help keep your blog not completely dead /j): What's a song you think fits one of your twst oc ships (or multiple ships if you want!) the most?
THANK YOU FOR KEEPING MY BLOG ALIVE TARU (bc i am realizing just today that it is astro's bday and i skipped medi too so. Here we are.)
Medignis: Just the Way You Are by Bruno Mars (while they're together). Why this song? Because I can guarantee you that at some point, Meditrina accidentally spills everything she's ever felt to Ignis and she's crying by the end but his resolve is to make her feel like she's enough. He wants her to know that she is enough for him, no matter what!
Post breakup (future): Just a Dream by Nelly, it's mainly on Ignis's part because he is the one that caused their breakup due to how he changed in their third year. But by the time they're out in the real world, he regrets it more than anything and above all, he is desperate to know if she's moved on or found someone knew. She hasn't but he doesn't know it yet.
Irnyx: Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls, BUT it's mainly on Onyx's part, which makes it all so much more ironic. The lyrics "I just want you to know who I am" literally apply to him because she was the one who changed his entire life. She was the one who didn't take pity on him and instead decided to do something about it. Afterwards, he realizes how much she loves him (albeit platonically) and he falls for her quite quickly to the point where every second spent with her is a good one, one where he slowly lets down his walls around her.
Coletitus: No Hay Nadie Mas by Sebastian Yatra (the Spanish version). This song is specifically for them because Colette was practically kicked out of her family's hearts and she ran away, finding Titus. While he knew that she was innocent, naive and afraid, something drew him to her and he wanted to stay by his side. And so, he abandoned his relentlessly flirty ways to stay with her. No matter how hard it got, no matter how many times she tried not to break down, he stayed by her side. He always reassured her and when the day came of him saying that he couldn't ever think of replacing her when she was the only one for him, she completely lost it.
Ivyvil: Some Day My Prince Will Come. This one is more complicated but Ivy always dreamed of being a pretty princess and being treated like one. However, at the sight of Vil, she realized that wasn't her dream anymore. She was the one that wanted to save him, to protect him, to shield him from the horrors of his own mind. She wanted to take him away from everything so he wouldn't beat himself up anymore. In the song, it's mainly about finding the "prince" (the true love) and once they meet, it means finally having a better life, one that's much happier. The same could apply for both of them: Vil finally gets someone who loves every part of him, even the dark parts and Ivy gets someone who is more than willing to help her be the best version she can be. So in a sense, the song could be for both of them.
Jamivy: You & I (Nobody in the World) by John Legend. She's the one constantly hyping him up snd telling him he looks good, giving him all sorts of little compliments, especially when she knows he feels down. He feels as though when he's with her, everything is possible and while she is a bit chaotic, he can't help but feel peace inside of him. She's always fussing over him to make sure he's in tiptop shape and it's in these moments--when her eyes are worried about him instead of vice versa, like he always does--that he feels like there's no one else in the world but them.
Ivytrey: She Will Be Loved by Maroon 5. In every sense of the word, Ivy knows that, as much as he won't admit it, he wants to be taken care of. It's engrained in everyone and he'll constantly say he doesn't need to be taken care of, but she's insistent on it. Her insistence makes him realize how much she's sacrificed of herself over the years and as hyperactive as she is, as aggressively kind as she is, as much as she keeps a happy mask on, it's just that: a mask. He wants to take care of her, no matter how much it might be. To him, it's nothing at all. Compared to everyone else, he isn't anything special but the fact that she still goes after him is enough for him. He just wants to be her anchor, the one who grounds her and the one she can be truly vulnerable with.
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magentagalaxies · 2 years
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asked my mom about getting a tattoo today!! she said yes!!
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the-do-that-girl · 10 months
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Sarah Price 'Nuture Garden' RHS Chelsea 2023
Photos by Me
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Irises in every shade - Just perfect.
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extinctionstories · 10 months
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Two hundred years ago, the wetlands of Japan rustled with pink-tinged feathers. Tall, pale birds stepped carefully through reeds and iris, hunting small fish, crabs, and frogs. 
Nipponia nippon, it would be dubbed by the national ornithological society, a bird emblematic of its country. The Crested Ibis. The Toki. The Peach Flower Bird.
Marshes slowly changed to rice fields, with farmers who resented the toki for ruining crops; to kill the birds was outlawed, so children chased them from the fields, singing warnings.
The doors of the country were pried open. Laws changed. Farmers bought their first guns, their sights set on birds who were no longer protected. The toki, the red-crowned crane, and many others began to suffer. But the worst was yet to come.
Pesticides are indiscriminate killers. The poison sprayed to kill a beetle can travel up the foodchain, toppling a cascade of larger animals, or affecting their ability to reproduce. It was reckless pesticide use that nearly wiped out the Bald Eagle. In the rice fields, the peach-flower-bird had little chance. 
In 1981, Japan’s last five living toki were removed from a wild that had become too dangerous for them.
I tell a lot of sad stories here, about mistakes we’ve made and animals we’ve lost. This isn’t one of those. This is a story about one of those precious times when we were able to fix the things we’d broken. 
A joint effort between Japan & China, and the discovery of seven more birds in that country, led to a successful breeding program, which in 2008 saw the first ibises fly free again in Japan. Today, at least 5000 toki exist in the world.
The last wild-born toki, one of those captured in 1981, lived almost long enough to see her species’ return. Reaching the equivalent age of a centenarian human, she died in 2003—not of old age, but injury after throwing herself against her cage door. 
Her name was ‘Kin’. ‘Gold’. 
Mended things can never be as whole as they once were. There will always be cracks that show, weak spots that remain vulnerable. Yet, like the shining seams of a kintsugi piece, these scars speak an important truth: here is a thing that someone chose to save; handle with care.
The title of this painting is ‘Restoration’. It is gouache on 22x30 inch watercolor paper
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The problem is I have three similar but slightly different ways this fic could go at this point and I'm not sure which is best so now I'm kind of stuck
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khaire-traveler · 4 months
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Random Greek Deity Facts
- Artemis has been associated with horses in the past.
- Ares has associations with owls.
- There are ancient gravestones with reliefs on them that historians still cannot tell if the art is of Dionysus or Jesus.
- It is common for historians to struggle identifying if a statue is of Artemis or Apollo because they often look so much alike.
- Hephaestus is a god of fire.
- Maia, the Mother of Hermes, was thought to assist in raising both Dionysus and Hephaestus.
- Hypnos is said to live in a massive cave, sleeping with thousands of his sons.
- Rather than blood, Greek gods are said to have something called Ichor running through their veins; no one is quite sure what "Ichor" actually is.
- Both Apollo and Artemis are deities of light; it is not just Apollo. Along with this, it is believed Leto may also be a goddess of light.
- It is commonly believed that the hyacinth flower is not actually the flower Hyacinthus was infamously transformed into; most sources seem to agree that it was likely either an iris or a larkspur.
- At one point in the Dionysiaca, Dionysus wages a war against India. The goddess Rhea is said to have gathered troops for him, and Zeus was said to have been the one to task Dionysus with going to war in order to allow him to join the gods on Mount Olympus.
- Demeter's chariot is pulled by two giant winged serpents; she has literal dragons pulling her around, and no one is talking about it.
- The Python was a child of Gaia, and before Apollo took up the Oracle in Delphi, there was actually an Oracle with Gaia in that location.
- The twins Castor and Pollux, who made up the Gemini constellation, were commonly worshipped throughout ancient Greece under the title of the "Dioscuri" or "Dioskouroi".
- Also regarding the Dioskouroi, the name "Castor" ("Kastor") may translate to "Beaver".
- The famous epithet "Paean" of Apollo was also listed on an ancient Mycenaean tablet that listed the names of separate deities. It is, therefore, possible that Paean was once a separate god who later became associated/merged with both Apollo and his son Ascelpius.
- Besides being an epithet, a Paean was also a type of devotional chant/song that was sung in honor of Apollo. Some ancient sources claim that the event of singing a Paean could actually be quite loud, involving clouds of stomping/banging and movement.
- The masculine version of Hekate's name, "Hekatos", was an epithet for the god Apollo; both names can be translated to "worker from afar".
- The first record of the more "traditional" view of a werewolf comes from the Greek myth about King Lycaon, when Zeus transformed into a wolf for ten years as punishment for tricking the gods into consuming human flesh (yes, you read that right).
- In the myths, Zeus and Hermes have a lovely Father-Son bonding trip of destroying an entire village (except for one home) for not showing either of the disguised gods hospitality as poor travellers.
- Both Apollo and Zeus were seen as gods who purified "blood-guilt" - a condition which was caused by the killing of another person and required immense purification.
- Cerberus is described as a fully sentient being who can communicate as other immensely powerful children of Gaia could, meaning he is akin to the gods in terms of intelligence rather than being like an overgrown dog.
- Hermes is said to be the inventor of offerings, specifically animal sacrifices.
- One origin of the Pegasus was Poseidon and Medusa doing the devil's tango.
- There is a tale that claims Hermes to be the one who granted Aesop his knowledge of fables.
- According to some ancient sources, Cerberus has as many as fifty heads, a mane of snakes, the claws of a lion, and a snake tail.
- Iris was not only the goddess of rainbows but was also the personal messenger of Hera and was prominently featured in The Iliad delivering many messages on behalf of the Olympian gods.
- Eros has been depicted as the child of Aphrodite and Ares, the child of Ouranos and Aphrodite, the child of solely Aphrodite, the child of Poros and Penia, the child of Ouranos and Gaia, the child of Zephyrus and Iris, and a primordial being who simply came into being. So, where did Eros actually come from? Your guess is as good as any.
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That's all for now! Let me know if y'all enjoyed these and would like more. 🧡
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|| Sources ||
- Theoi.com (of course)
- The Iliad by Homer
- Theogony by Hesiod
- The Dionysiaca by Nonnus
- Information from various museum trips in Athens and Delphi, Greece (sorry, I don't remember the exact sources ����)
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fairiedance · 4 months
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A woodcut style dove wearing a keffiyeh over a poppy. The official national flower of Palestine as of 2016 actually seems to be the Faqqu’a iris, but many people will tell you that it's the poppy. Regardless of how official it is (often a vague thing when it comes to national symbols anyway) the poppy is an important national emblem for Palestine. It features the four colors of the flag (black, white, red and green) and is also said to represent blood shed on the land. Honestly I see it used a lot more than the iris (though both are lovely plants).
As usual, ALL PROCEEDS from this design are for my Palestinian best friend, to help his girlfriend afford to join him safely in America and to help his friends and family in Palestine and around the rest of the Levant who are being hurt directly and/or financially by the attacks on Gaza, the increasing Israeli raids in the West Bank and the collateral damage in surrounding countries.
You can buy the design above on various products (shirts, stickers, etc) here. All designs found here (Redbubble will show you a random product, click on each to see more product options). Thank you to everyone who has helped out so far!
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lalacliffthorne · 7 months
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💜 starshine pt. V 💜
Rhysand x Reader
part I part II part III part IV part V part VI
summary: some long overdue introductions are made.
notes: god, I can´t express how fucking happy the love you show for this makes me. I´m honestly pinching myself every time I read all your messages and comments, and I´m not even sure I'm actually processing them all because it's just so completely bonkers. anyway. I´m currently planning on how to proceed with this, and you can probably expect at least a few more chapters *winks and wiggles brows*. I realised we need a few more things before this feels complete. so, here´s the next part. I will not be blamed for swooning or emotional damage or anything else.
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Exhaling softly, I buried my nose in my pillow, blinking and scrunching my brows. I could feel sunlight on my face and a soft breeze brushing over my skin that smelled like sweet blooming trees and cool mornings, intertwining with another scent that surrounded me, filling my lungs, familiar and warm, causing something to flutter against my ribs.
Slowly cracking open an eye, I squinted into the sunlight filtering through high glass doors. They were opened wide, allowing the morning air to filter through the big room, and as I blinked against the sleep and my vision became clearer, my breath hitched a little at the sight of the mountain palace in the golden morning sun.
Hiding my big yawn in my pillow, I turned my head, but the bed behind me was empty.
Something skipped a little in my chest, and I slowly sat up, scrunching my brows against the light and blowing a strand of hair out of my face that had fallen from my braid before sliding off the mattress. My eyes flickered towards the door, but then I caught a glimpse at something in the big mirror, and when I turned around, I saw the person out on the balcony.
My heart moved gently in my chest, and breathing out softly, I slowly started to make my way outside.
The sun was warm, just like the stone under my bare feet as I squinted into the light, my breath hitching a little when I caught a glimpse at Velaris down in the vale, the Sidra glittering. Then my gaze turned back towards the male sitting on the ground on the terrace, right in front of a few steps leading down to another, arms resting on his knees, eyes closed as his brows crunched a little against the bright sun. His dark hair was tousled from sleep and the soft breeze, the muscles in his back shifting when he laced his fingers together, and something warm spread through my chest.
Quietly padding closer, I let myself plop down next to him on the stones heated up to by the sun, so close that our shoulders and elbows were touching when I pulled up my bare legs and wrapped my arms around my knees. Drawing up my shoulders a little, I exhaled slowly, blinking into the sun as my gaze moved over the palace stretched over the side of the mountain, the balconies and terraces, huge windows open to let in the breeze, and the city far below. Then I turned my head.
Rhys´ eyes were still closed, but the crease between his brows softened as I watched. The warmth of his skin was seeping through the thin cotton of my shirt, and his scent rose into my nose with every breath.
Feeling something gently thrum against my ribs, I carefully shifted a little closer, my shoulder pressing more into his biceps, then I turned my head back ahead, breathing in the morning air and the smell of flowers as the light wind brushed through the strands fallen from my braid and the sun warmed my skin. My nose crinkled a little as I squinted into the light, something fluttering gently against my ribs.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Rhys blink, brows drawing together as he opened his eyes, his gaze focusing on the city below. His iris looked lighter in the sun, almost like lavender. A muscle in his jaw shifted, then he mumbled softly: “I´m not sure I deserve this.”
The flutter in my chest turned into a soft twinge, and I felt my brows furrow gently as I looked over at him.
“Deserve what?”
Rhys stared at the palace, the city in the vale. “All of this. The people down there. I´m not sure I deserve them.” His voice was quiet and raw when he added softly: “Not after all I did.”
The twinge in my chest sharpened, and I swallowed a little.
“Rhys?”
His head turned like my soft call of his name ripped him out of dark thoughts, and I stared at him, feeling something tighten under my ribs when I whispered: “You can´t save everyone.”
Rhys stilled, and I offered him a careful, crooked smile. “I know.” I raised one shoulder in a soft shrug. “I tried.”
The male stared at me, the muscles in his cheeks shifting as he swallowed and his eyes darted over my face. I could see the pain buried deep within, felt the emotions whirling under his skin, causing my chest to ache.
“It´s the best we can do.” My brows furrowed gently, something churning softly under my ribs when I whispered softly: “Try.” My gaze flickered over his face. “And you did.” Something rose in my chest, and I pressed my shoulder into his, staring at him. “All you did was to keep them safe. Keep your family safe, your home.” I swallowed softly and mumbled: “You gave everything to protect them.”
Rhys blinked, and something within him seemed to crack when he whispered hoarsely: “What if I gave so much, I ended up broken?”
I stared at him, feeling something tug and tighten in my chest. Then I shrugged just a little, smiling softly.
“Everyone is a little broken. Some maybe more than others, but – it´s hard not to. In this world, how can we be anything but?”
Rhys´ lips parted, his violet eyes shimmering in the sunlight as they found mine.
“Maybe we´re broken.” I felt my brows crunch softly. “But that´s not what matters.” I returned his gaze, steady, calm, feeling my heart thrum against my ribs. “What matters is what we do with the pieces. Whether we put ourselves back together or push the broken pieces away and stay broken.” I smiled, soft and crooked. “I know that mending yourself back together is scary. Because – it probably won´t end up looking like before. Some pieces are missing, others are broken beyond repair.” My eyes flickered over the male in front of me, his brows crunched up like he was fighting to keep himself together, iris shimmering as his gaze darted over my face. “But what you build from the rest is still complete.” I felt my throat tighten a little and smiled softly when I whispered: “And it can still be beautiful.”
The muscles in Rhys´ jaw shifted as he swallowed harshly, his eyes a little watery as they searched mine, emotion raging deep within them.
Pressing my shoulder into his, I watched him steadily.
“You´re allowed to grieve what you´ve lost along the way.” I suppressed the urge to swallow again, staring at him firmly as something tightened harshly in my chest. “Just never think that because you´re broken - you can´t be whole again.”
Rhys´ nose flared, and he closed his eyes tightly. My heart tilted, and quickly, before I could stop myself, I stretched.
A light shudder seemed to travel through Rhys´ body when I pressed my forehead against his.
“You gave everything for them,”, I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut. “Nothing about that makes you less of a male.” Something skipped and tumbled in my chest, and I smiled crookedly and mumbled softly: “If anything, it makes you even more worthy of their love.”
This time, the tremble that went through Rhys´ limbs was stronger. His breath hitting my skin quivered just a little, then he dropped his head forward to gently press back. His nose brushed against mine, and suddenly, my whole body tightened in a soft, sharp inhale.
My breath hitched and stilled, and Rhys tilted his head a little to repeat the soft nudge. I could feel his fingers brushing over my knuckles as the side of his thigh pressed against mine, radiating warmth through the soft material of his pants as his hair tickled my forehead and his breath danced over my skin and he slowly, gently traced his nose over mine.
Swallowing, I pulled my head back a little, feeling my heart race in my chest and something tightening and pulsing under my ribs. Then I opened my eyes, and my breath stumbled.
Rhys´ iris twinkled like galaxies, hues of gold and lavender swirling in deep violet, warm and bright as his gaze pierced into mine. The breeze brushed through his tousled dark hair, blowing wisps of hair that had fallen from my braid into my face, and Rhys raised his hand, carefully brushing them away. His thumb followed the line of my cheekbone, sending tingling shivers through my body, and Rhys´ throat worked like he was trying not to swallow as his eyes dragged over my face.
The rise and swell in my chest grew unbearable, and I held my breath and blinked, pulling back and smiling softly and crookedly, even though my heart was pounding against my ribs. I prayed Rhys didn´t feel it, couldn´t hear the strange flutter in my breath when I turned my eyes back ahead, over the palace dipped in golden light as the sun slowly crept higher up in the sky.
I could feel Rhys´ gaze on my face for another second, steady and calm, then he turned his head back ahead. His warm shoulder pressed into mine, and I felt him exhale slowly, his skin glowing in the sun as he closed his eyes again, brows scrunching a little. Without being able to stop myself, I let my gaze flicker towards him and over his profile, his straight nose, high cheekbones, the strand of ink black hair curved over his forehead, the rest messy and tousled -
One corner of Rhys´ lips turned upwards until the ghost of a crease formed in his cheek.
“Seeing something you like?”
My heart tipped over at the sound of his deep, rich voice, and trying to ignore the small hitch in my breath, I huffed and glared. Rhys´ smile just widened.
“You know, I´m sure none of the others would complain if you didn´t, but are you going to put on pants before we go down into the city?” His eyes were still closed, lips curved upwards, but his voice sounded a little hoarse when he mumbled softly: “Or are you planning on torturing me a little more?”
My breath hitched as my gaze darted towards him, my lips parting, and Rhys opened his eyes, his iris twinkling brightly as he squinted a little against the sun, looking down at me. The breeze ruffled his hair, and his muscles moved under his sunkissed skin as he shifted a little on the spot, his bare shoulder pressing into mine. He looked dark and warm and – beautiful. Heartwrenchingly, achingly, breathtakingly beautiful. All of him, his eyes and his smile and the curve of his jaw, the way his muscles worked his under lean sides and powerful shoulders - and everything beneath. His heart, his doubts, his dreams. And even though I had seen him since that first day, had seen all of it and more -
My heart shuddered as I felt the rise and fall under my ribs, the tingles running over my spine and how my breath hitched with every soft inhale. Felt the harsh thrum of my heart, and suddenly, something tipped over in my chest as my heart shuddered again, and my lips parted.
Rhys´ brows scrunched lightly. “Starshine?”
“Hm?” My voice sounded soft, breathy as I stared at him, something fluttering wildly against my ribs.
“Are you alright?” One corner of Rhys´ lips quirked, his gaze flickering over my face looking torn between amusement and concern, and I blinked and nodded quickly, turning my gaze back ahead as my heart thumped in my chest. Something rushed through my body as I swallowed gently and felt the flutter under my ribs become more violent.
Making my way through the halls of The House of Wind, I tied the sleeves of my billowing tunic that I had tucked into my leather pants which fit snugly around my legs. I had figured they were a lot more practical for another flight than a dress.
My heart was pounding steadily against my ribs as I checked if my braid was tied off properly and frowned softly when I realized there were little wildflowers stuck within. How had they ended up in th-
The doors opened towards a terrace, and as I raised my head, my breath hitched.
Rhys was standing in front of the carved stone balustrade, wings folded comfortably against his back, so big they almost touched the ground. He was squinting into the sunlight, looking completely relaxed, the breeze brushing through his hair. Like he´d sensed me, he turned his head, and my breath hitched a little when his eyes met mine, deep and vibrant and slowly beginning to twinkle.
Something skipped and tumbled in my chest, and not yet ready to confront that strange sensation that had bloomed just a little earlier, I pushed it away and jumped down the few steps, crunching my nose as I smiled sheepishly.
“This alright?”
Rhys´ lips curved. “What?”
I shrugged, turning in a circle and waving a hand over my body exaggeratedly, cracking a grin. “You know, for – whatever you have planned. Meeting your friends.” My heart skipped a little nervously as I squinted up at him, coming to a halt in front of him.
Slowly, a crease formed in Rhys´ cheek, becoming deeper and deeper the more his smile grew. His eyes were sparkling when he stared down at me, his deep voice vibrating over my skin when he mumbled: “You could turn up in a duvet cover and be beautiful.”
I somehow kept myself from holding my breath even as my heart suddenly toppled, and instead managed to deadpan.
“What I´m getting from that is that this isn´t the right thing to wear –“
Rhys laughed, his eyes crinkling with his wide smile when he stepped forward and grinned down at me. “That´s not what I meant.” His iris was bright as his gaze flickered over my face, then he blinked, his voice softer and steady when he said quietly: “Don´t worry. They´ll love you.”
Barely suppressing the urge to swallow as my throat suddenly tightened, I inhaled softly and nodded lightly, feeling my lips quirk in a small, cheeky smile. “Sure we can´t just winnow or –“
Rolling his eyes with a grin, Rhys leaned down, and my breath got stuck in my throat with a soft sound when his arm slid around my back.
“Hold on,”, he mumbled, his breath brushing over the side of my neck, and I quickly wrapped my arm over his shoulder. His hand slipped under my knees, then Rhys lifted me into his arms as he straightened again.
My heart skipped high into my throat when he hoisted me up a little, adjusting his grip until my body was curled into his chest. His scent filled my lungs as he squeezed me gently and looked at me, his eyes sparkling.
“Ready?”
I felt a brush of air when his wings opened, stretching wide, and quickly, I slid my arms around his shoulders, burying my face in the crook of his neck. Squeezing my eyes shut tightly, I nodded, and with one mighty beat, Rhys launched into the sky.
I shrieked softly, feeling Rhys´ body vibrate with his low chuckle, then we dropped into a steep dive, and I clung to his shoulders, squealing loudly.
~
I didn´t know how long we were in the air. Rhys´ wings were stretched wide and steady, carrying us lower and lower, their thin membranes in parts almost see through against the sunlight. Sometimes, he dropped a little just to hear me squeak, laughter vibrating through his chest every time he rightened us smoothly and turned into an elegant curve. I peaked over his shoulder once, only to feel my stomach turn over at the sight of the city so far below, I quickly squeezed my eyes shut again and buried my face back in the crook his neck.
Finally, Rhys caught himself out of a gentle descent, his wings beating a few times until he landed on his feet smoothly. Slowly loosening my tight grip, I cracked open an eye, feeling a relieved breath leave me when I saw the cobblestone only a few feet beneath me.
Lifting my head, I felt my heart rise softly as I looked up the façade of the townhouse made from sandstone we´d landed in front. The sun just caught the stained glass window over the door, the smell of the rose bushes planted in the small front yard soft and sweet. The roof with a huge round window in the attic glittered in the sunlight, the windows on the second and third floor open to let the gentle breeze in.
Rhys leaned down, letting me slide out of his arms as he placed me back on my feet. I raised my head when he straightened, and my heart lurched and tipped over when I realised we were chest to chest.
Rhys stilled a bit, his head dipped to look down at me, dark hair dishevelled from the flight and still looking perfectly tousled. Something closed around my throat when his eyes flickered over my face, warm and twinkling a little, and I couldn´t keep myself from swallowing.
Behind me, the front door opened, followed by a deep rumbunctious laugh, and when I quickly looked over my shoulder, my heart skipped high into my throat as the source of the sound stepped into the sunlight, squinting and grinning boisterously.
The Lord of Bloodshed looked exactly like I had imagined from what Rhys had told me about him. Tall, so tall he almost had to dip his head to the side to walk through the door, wide shoulders and chest, body all corded muscle. Half of his dark hair was gathered in a bun at the back of his head, a few strands falling into his face as he walked down the steps, huge Illyrian wings tucked against his back as his grin made his eyes crinkle and caused the scar on the side of his face to shift.
He made it a few feet before noticing Rhys and me. He slowed before stilling on the spot, his grin disappearing a little as warm hazel eyes met mine.
Carefully, I smiled, soft and crooked. Behind me, I felt Rhys shift, straightening.
Another figure appeared from the hall that was dipped in shadow, though the darkness seemed to thicken a little as it shifted away from the tall male stepping into the sunshine. It didn´t leave him fully, ghosting around his shoulders and the wings folded smoothly against his back, like soft whisps of darkness that followed the shadowsinger as he moved down the steps, amber eyes piercing mine. Where his brother´s face was rough and more rugged, the face of the Spymaster was all sharp lines and beauty dark like death, but still, there was something gentle buried underneath as his gaze flickered over me.
“Cauldron´s sake, can´t you wait?!”
The bright, warm voice drew my eyes away from the shadowsinger´s, and a female appeared in the door, her scowl melting into softly widening eyes.
“Oh,”, she breathed, and I felt my lips rise into a smile without being able to help it.
The Morrigan, as Rhys sometimes called her like it was a title more than just a name, looked like sunshine. Her flowing hair really was the color of honey, her eyes a gentle warm brown, soft freckles on her nose and something like awe in her gaze.
Her lips, painted deep red, parted, but before she could say something, the Lord of Bloodshed moved. There was something strange in his eyes, something in his drawn brows as he came towards me with big strides, and I could feel Rhys tense behind me, but before he could even open his mouth, the huge Illyrian warrior reached me.
Strong arms wrapped around my waist, and the Lord of Bloodshed lifted me off my feet in a warm, crushing hug.
My breath hitched, and my lips parted softly when a wave of emotions crashed over me. Thankfulness and relief and pain soothed, mixed with warm vibrating affection, so strong and jumbled, a little tightness built in my throat. He felt different than Rhys; rougher, louder and warm and full of unbridled life, and –
Something surged in my chest, and I blinked hastily against the way my eyes welled. Because the infamous Lord of Bloodshed felt kind. Kind and gentle, and good.
“Hi?”, I whispered a little hesitantly, and a soft chuckle rumbled through the huge Illyrian.
“Hi.” I heard the grin in his deep voice, warm and rumbling as he squeezed me tightly before shaking me a little and causing a soft giggle to break from my throat. Then he slowly placed me back on the ground, holding me tightly for another second before straightening up, and when I raised my head, he was beginning to smile down at me, wide and honest.
Movement at the corner of my eye made me tip down my head, and something shifted softly in my chest when Morrigan sent me a smile. It was bright and beaming, but her eyes were a little watery, and she too, moved without hesitation, wrapping me up in a hug so tight, I held my breath.
“Hello,”, she mumbled, her warm voice a little wobbly, and my heart tightened gently as I carefully wrapped my arms around her and squeezed back. She too, felt gentle and good, but vibrant, like an orchestra rising into a striking finale.
Mor kept me in a ribcrushing hug for another second before pulling back, sniffling a little as she beamed at me, and I slowly grinned back.
“So that´s her?”
The voice, so deep and low, sent a light tingle down my spine, and when my gaze moved, it met the shadowsinger´s, his golden eyes piercing mine.
The Lord of Bloodshed crossed his arms in front of his chest, his eyes sparkling as he sent his High Lord a shit-eating grin. “Now I get why you kept her from us.”
Rhys scowled as the tall Illyrian sent me a wink, but a few feet away, the lips of the shadowsinger curved at the corners.
“Honestly.” Mor rolled her eyes, but she looked like she was suppressing a smile. I threw Rhys a look.
You know, he´s right, I get it too. I sent him a wide, cheeky grin and raised my brows. Why you thought they´d steal me away? I mean; I´d let them -
Something shifted in Rhys´ eyes, and a growl rumbled from his chest as he moved forward, his chest pressing into my back, and my heart skipped and my breath hitched.
Mor furrowed her brows, but her lips twitched. “Are you alright?”
Rhys huffed as he stared down at me, but it almost looked like he was pouting, so much so, something tipped over in my chest, and I started to beam up at him, wide and cheeky.
Something in Rhys´ glare shifted, became soft and bright. Then he blinked, and my heart tumbled gently against my ribs when he tore his eyes away from mine and grumbled under his breath: “I just remembered why I have been putting this off for so long.”
Both Illyrians rolled their eyes in unison, the General flipping him off easily while the shadowsinger´s lips twitched, and Rhys returned the foul gesture before looking down at me, his eyes twinkling even though he gave a dramatic, long-suffering sigh as he raised his brows.
“Starshine, meet my irritating and nosy family. These are Mor, Cassian and Azriel.”
Mor beamed at me, Azriel dipped his chin lightly, and Cassian bowed his head with a cheeky wink. I slowly grinned back, feeling something hop against my ribs. Then I blinked and blurted: “It´s really good to meet you, but I'm starving -”
Cassian snorted and started to laugh, his head tipping back as his shoulders shook, and Azriel pushed past him, his lips curving when he blinked into the sun, mumbling: “Looks to me like she´s going to fit in just fine.”
Blinking into the sun, I dropped my head when something cool brushed over my shoulder, and Azriel sat down next to me and handed me something.
My heart skipped and my lips opened in surprise at the sight of the waffle wrapped in a paper napkin, sprinkled with powered sugar. There was a café in the alley to our right that sold them, and even though earlier at breakfast, Mor had ordered half the menu, the smell whafting from it when we'd passed it a little while ago had made me look at the window wistfully.
“Thank you.” I looked up at the shadowsinger, still a little wide eyed and surprised, and there was a soft chuckle from next to me that made my heart skip.
“Bribery.”
“Hey, shut up.” I felt my lips curve into a bright smile without being able to help it, quickly kicking Rhys´ shin. He was sitting on my other side and squinted against the sun, cheek creasing. He looked completely relaxed, skin glowing in the warm light, lounging on the bench, his arm draped over the backrest behind me. “You´re just mad he didn´t bring you one.”
“Yes, as his High Lord, that does make me wonder.” Rhys narrowed his eyes in mock thought, and Azriel huffed, his lips quirking as he blinked into the sun.
Breathing in the sweet smell of flowers, I plucked off a corner of the still warm waffle, the sweet dough melting on my tongue as I blinked into the sunlight. Something warm was pulsing in my chest as I let my gaze wander over the little square surrounded by big, sandstone buildings. Mor was crouched a bit away on the cobblestone, talking to a female painting the ground with a beautiful sunset sky. Cassian was over at the fountain that wasn´t carrying any water; instead, flowers were growing within, spilling over the edges, violets and lavenders and pinks mixing together with small white blossoms. He was playing with some children, who had seen the mighty warrior and had shied away until he had grinned widely at them. Now they were trying to wrestle him down, his dramatic groans echoing through the square. Next to me, Azriel had leaned back, his wings folded comfortably behind him as his golden eyes moved over the square, watchful but relaxed. The blooming trees whispered in the soft breeze, petals chasing over the cobblestone, and I exhaled softly and felt something rise in my chest, fluttering and violent.
Gentle claws scraped over my mind´s walls, and my heart skipped softly.
“You okay?”
Rhys´ voice rumbled through my head, warm and relaxed, and my breath hitched as my eyes flickered over his friends; his family, that had taken so easily to me, it felt like I had been here since the beginning.
Blinking, I tipped my head back a little, looking up into the clear blue sky where even in daylight, the pale shape of the moon was visible, and that swelling feeling under my ribs grew.
It´s beautiful, I whispered in my thoughts, turning my head, and my eyes met violet ones, bright and twinkling as they flickered over my face.
A whaft of warm, flowery perfume filled my nose, then Mor squeezed in between me and Azriel, sighing happily as she squinted into the sun. “Should we save him?”
I looked over towards where Cassian was buried under at least six little Fae children that were yelling and climbing over him.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Azriel´s lips quirk as he reclined lazily. “He looks like he´s got it handled.”
Cassian dramatically went limp. Then he stirred, sending children tumbling over the cobblestone laughing as he straightened up and grinned at them, and I giggled.
Getting to his feet, Cassian patted the head of one of the children and sent them a wink before beginning to walk back towards us, the children going back to chasing each other over the square.
“Is your back alright, brother?” Rhys watched him, creases in his cheeks deepening. “I could swear I heard it crack when you got up.”
“I heard it.” Azriel squinted into the sun.
Mor sighed dramatically. “Tragic, the mighty hero is getting old.”
“I could take a look at it.” I blinked up at Cassian innocently. From the corner of my eye, I saw the others look towards me as I shrugged, pulling off another piece of waffle. “I deal with the elderly all the time.”
Rhys started laughing, his head dipping back, and my heart swerved at the deep, rich sound. On my other side, Mor was laughing as well, bright and causing her body to vibrate as the shadowsinger grinned, and Cassian scowled, but his eyes were twinkling mischievously when he narrowed them. “Careful, little one.”
I only squinted up at him, feeling my lips curve cheekily.
There was a light pull on my sleeve, and when I looked down in surprise, my heart skipped gently.
A small Fae girl, just a few years old, was standing in front of me, looking up at me with huge eyes.
I could feel my lips rise, and sliding my waffle into Rhys´ hand, I slipped off the bench, crouching down until I was on her level before sending her a slow, wide smile.
“Hello.”
The girl shuffled a little, her eyes sheepish as they flickered over me and the flowers still stuck in my hair. Then she held out her hand.
Something rose softly underneath my ribs when I slowly took the small paper blossom from her tiny fingers. Carefully, I placed it in my palm, staring at it. Then I looked up at her through my lashes and sent her a slow, cheeky smile.
“Want to see something?”
The girl nodded quickly, and feeling my smile brighten, I looked down again, closing my eyes for a moment. Then I dipped my head and gently, very gently, blew air over the blossom.
Golden sparks twinkled, making the little girl´s eyes grow big, and slowly, before our eyes, the paper flower turned into a real one, it´s purple petals slowly opening.
The girl´s eyes were huge when she looked up at me, beginning to beam, and grinning back widely, I leaned forward, carefully tucking the flower behind her ear. Then I straightened up again and sent her a light wink, and with a small giggle, the girl quickly turned around, darting back over the square.
Staring after her with a wide smile, I pushed myself up and back onto the bench, then I raised my head, and my breath hitched a little when I found four pairs of eyes on me. Mor´s lips were parted softly, that strange vibrant awe back in her gaze, Cassian´s lips were curving, Azriel´s head was dipped to the side a little, a barely there twinkle in his eyes – and Rhys´ iris looked brighter than the stars as he stared at me.
“What?”, I mumbled sheepishly, feeling a little heat bloom on my cheeks. Then I caught sight of the huge piece missing out of my waffle and immediately widened my eyes, glaring at Rhys. “Hey!”
“Told you they´d love you.”
My heart skipped softly, and when I looked over my shoulder, Rhys leaned into the open doors, squinting into the low sun as one corner of his lips creased.
Something fluttered softly against my ribs.
“Well, I am very loveable.” I sent him a bright, cheeky grin, and Rhys huffed, the crease in his cheek deepening as he pushed off the doorframe.
Watching him come towards me, I blinked and turned back around, breathing out as I held my face into the warm, sinking sun. We were back at the house that I still didn´t quite believed was mine, the window doors open to let the soft breeze in as I sat on the stone steps leading from the terrace down into the garden. The light of the sinking sun was dipping everything in gold, faeries whizzing through the flowers and tittering happily.
Something brushed against my shoulder, then Rhys took a seat next to me, propping his arms onto his knees and squinting into the light. “Are you sure you want to sleep here?”
I huffed softly. “I am sure I´m not keen on more flying.”
Rhys´ lips curved, his violet eyes piercing the side of my face. “You´re insulting my flying?”
“I´m insulting your need for aerial maneuvers.”
Rhys slowly began to grin. “I´m taking that personal.”
“Good. It's awful.” I barely held myself back from breaking into a wide smile.
Rhys´ eyes crinkled as he stared at me. Then he blinked and looked over his shoulder. “The main bedroom is on the third floor. Everything´s there, so –“
Something closed around my throat, and I quickly whispered: “Thank you.”
Rhys looked at me, and I stared back, trying to swallow against the tightness in my chest as suddenly, the words stumbled from my lips.
“Thank you for trusting me. With this, this city. Your family. And –“, I blinked, “for buying me a house, you - complete – maniac; who does that?!” I exhaled a little tremblingly as something skipped and fluttered in my chest and I sniffled a bit, my eyes suddenly burning a bit.
Rhys stared at me, the muscles in his cheek working as his lips parted.
“Thank you,”, I whispered a little wobbly, and I could feel Rhys swallow when for a moment, he looked like a dozen answers were running through his head, things he wanted to say stumbling over each other. But when he opened his lips, nothing came out but one word, quiet, simple and a little hoarse.
“Always.”
A soft shuddering breath left me as my shoulders sunk, and Rhys´ violet eyes dragged over my face. Then he blinked, and one corner of his lips curved gently. “Sleep tight, starshine.”
I swallowed, and Rhys got to his feet, sending me a light wink that made my heart swerve as he started walking down the steps into the garden. I could see the way his shoulders shifted, the way he stretched his neck a little, and suddenly, something dropped into my stomach.
“Wait!”
I darted to my feet, and Rhys stilled. Then he looked over his shoulder, and before I could stop myself, I blurted: “Stay.”
Rhys' lips parted, and hastily, I squeezed my hands into fists.
“I just –“ My eyes darted over his face, my heart skipped once, high, and with a soft breath, I felt my shoulders sag.
“I hate the thought of you up there alone,”, I mumbled.
Rhys blinked. Then the tension bled from his muscles, and his lips curved, just a little.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I breathed out, my eyes darting over his face, illuminated by the sinking sun, his dark hair tousled, his iris a soft violet, and somehow, I managed to ignore the rising, swelling feeling in my chest.
The curve to Rhys´ lips deepend, and he slowly turned a little, his eyes beginning to twinkle in the light as he raised a brow. “I can take the couch.”
My heart fluttered high, and I tried to not let it show, just grinning crookedly.
“What, this huge house has no guest room?”
“I thought I´d leave the details of which room becomes what to you.” The twinkle in Rhys´ eyes seemed to grow as he slowly started to saunter back towards me, slipping his hands into his pockets as he shrugged casually.
“Convenient.�� I felt my lips curve as the flutter in my chest grew sky high, my breath catching when I caught sight of the crease in Rhys´ cheek.
“I´ll take the couch.”
“No, you´re not.” My voice was steady, maybe even amused, even though my heart was beating out my chest the closer Rhys got and I suddenly wondered what I was doing.
Rhys´ eyes crinkled a little as he moved up the steps towards me. “What if I snore after all?”
“Then I´ll kick you.” I tried to keep my breathing even when he stopped on the step right beneath mine, almost on eye level for once, my heart missing a beat when I swore I could feel his chest brush against mine.
The crease in Rhys´ cheek deepend. “So violent.”
I must´ve managed to deadpan, because he chuckled, a grin slowly spreading over his face. Then he blinked, and it dimmed, becoming soft when he mumbled, his deep voice a gentle caress over my spine: “Are you sure?”
My heart jumped against my ribs, and I probably should have listened to the warning of its irregular rhythm or the way my breath couldn´t seem to stay steady. But I just smiled back, soft and cheeky and crooked. “Yes. I´m sure.”
Rhys' gaze flickered over my face, and something shifted in his iris, the twinkle a little deeper as he nodded gently. "Alright."
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hello love! can i make a request for gaz x f!reader she a civilian and a florist and he keeps visiting her and they slowly fall for each other and he calls her his sunflower or something cute like that? you can make up the rest, sorry if it’s not super detailed!
Gossamer Silk Smiles
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Pairing: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Florist!Reader
Synopsis: You loved your job more than anything, and at the end of the day, even with pricked fingers and cramped muscles, you went to bed happy. It had all been going well, insanely well. You were focused; self-assured... Until he showed up. 
Word Count: 6.1k
Warnings: Insane amount of fluff, this is the definition of a soft fic, beginning of a relationship
A/N: I know this man would treat me right. Also changed the nickname around a bit, but sunflowers are still prominent. Enjoy, Anon!
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
When you opened your flower shop, you told yourself there was no going back – no distractions or second options. This was what you loved more than anything and at the end of the day, even with pricked fingers and cramped muscles, you went to bed happy. It had all been going well, insanely well. 
Until he showed up. 
It had been a shitty day, one for the record books, in your opinion. Shipments for Larkspur, Zinnias, and Sunflowers had come to the shop damaged. The boxes had been so beaten up you half-believed the mail carrier had gotten into a personal disagreement with them. All initial humor aside, you were now out of this week's product as well as a good chunk of money – the flowers couldn’t even be considered that anymore, seeing as they were really just broken stems and stray crumpled pedals. Then came the unusual amount of rude customers and the building of minor inconveniences. 
But to your credit, you didn’t let it get to you. 
Well…externally, at least. 
“Have a great rest of your day,” you force out with a strained smile to an older woman who only huffs. She stalks out of the shop with a vase full of Daylilies, Purple Cornflowers, Yarrow, and Taro leaves. “I hope your brother gets well soon–” The glass door shuts with a clatter of the small silver bell attached to the frame. 
Leaning back on your heels, your eyes close; taking down a deep breath, you hope your lungs won't explode in your chest as you hold it there. 
“Fucking hell.” The air flies from you in a weak groan. 
Your fingers tap against the countertop, and a small, humorless, chuckle later you’re walking out to change the window sign to closed instead of open. It was well past your usual shift anyways, but the previous customer had been relentless about the ‘perfect bouquet.’
“Like there’s even such a thing,” your lips twist into an annoyed frown as you speak to yourself in a grumble. “...Should have just denied her service… Didn’t even leave a tip.” 
You really wouldn’t have minded helping her that much if she had just been kinder towards you.
Grabbing the small paper sign held up by a suction-cup hook, you flip it around with little thought, already trying to plan out a way to make up for the weeks worth of ruined product. You don’t even notice the man speeding down the sidewalk until his desperate face is staring right into yours – only separated by a thin piece of glass. 
Yelping, your shoulders tense at the sudden visage. 
The man was around your age, tall, and had a handsome face inlaid with eyes reminiscent of deep amber. Light reflected off the iris in ways you can only describe as the glinting sun does off waves of water; gentle. Nearly soft, really. He was wearing a ball cap with an embroidered British flag on the front and had a panicked look set on his lips. 
Close to the door handle, his long fingers freeze mid-air and you find the prominent muscular build and set of his shoulders staining the back of your eyelids like a movie screen. Whoever this guy was, it didn’t stray from the fact that he was attractive.
You’re not happy about it, but your mind blanks as you stare with wide eyes; heart steady in your breast. 
He blinks at you, square jaw loose, also double-taking from beyond the see-through barrier. His flickering eyes flew quickly over your form just as you had ogled him moments prior. 
Silly, perhaps, and childish at best, but you felt your throat tighten with stilled breath. There was a small chunk of time that you both just gawked at each other – as if Cupid had suddenly stabbed you both with one of his blots; gazes inexplicably locked as blood dripped to the floor from copper arrowheads.
If you were more gullible, you would have called it love at first sight. But you were anything but that. 
Sighing, you rip your eyes away and take a breath. Opening the door with more questions than answers, you were praying that it didn’t get dark before you could help this man with whatever it is that he needed. 
I can see the fucking veins on his forearms. You think as the chilled air hits your face,  recalling the peek you sent to the rolled-up sleeves of this stranger’s blue button-down. 
The bell above you dings as you set the door in the crook of your shoulder, leaning out halfway. Clearing your throat, you ask steadily, “Can I help you, Sir…?” 
He sets his stubbled jaw, vision snapping to the side for a split second that was so fast you almost missed it. 
“Erm…my apologies, Ma’am, for rushing up like that.” He lets off a chuckle, and the flag on his hat is quickly explained away by the prominent accent. “Hope I didn’t worry you.” 
Fighting the uptick of your lips you feel your chest let go of a sliver of tension. He was smiling slightly at you, the khaki pants he wears creasing as his feet set themselves; his brown eyes never leave your face. 
Respectful, you think.
“Not every day you have people trying to barge into a flower shop. Trust me, Sir, I sleep well knowing no one wants to rob me.” Attempting a light joke, the stranger's chest jerks in a silky laugh. The tips of your ears heat, the blood under your skin rushing. 
His laugh was like a blanket during a storm; a cup of hot chocolate during a blizzard. Could you be attracted to a laugh? You seemed to ask yourself. Already your mind was coming up blank at this, all of a sudden, welcome intrusion. 
“Well, I’d imagine that’s a good thing, then?” He teases showing off pearly white teeth.
“Incredibly.” Opening the door wider, you beam. “You’re lucky I was still here. I’d normally be all locked up by now.”
You should be closing – telling this stranger to leave and come back tomorrow – but something inside of you told you to just open the door. It was illogical, unprofessional, and downright strenuous on your already foul mood…but this individual had such an air to him that you wondered who exactly he was. He made your skin pule with goosebumps.
“Thanks,” the man utters as he slips inside, nodding his head to you and fixing the position of his hat with one hand. “Yeah…I’m incredibly sorry about this but I’m runnin’ on a bit of a time crunch, to be honest with you. I’ve been checking every shop in town – you’re the only one with the lights still on…” He looks to you, “I really hope I’m not causing any trouble for you, Ma’am.”
Slipping your fingers into your work apron’s pockets, you let the door shut and tilt your head to the side, gaze softening at the pure candor of his words. 
“Emergency flower orders are always my favorites to work on. It’s no problem, really.” You say your name as an introduction and ask what he would like to purchase as he scratches at the back of his neck with a boyish twist to his lips. 
“Kyle Garrick.” He sticks out his hand and you shake it instantly. Kyle’s hands are warm despite the cold weather outside, and you have to stop yourself from melting into him as you pull back. But already your skin tingles. “Actually, I was wondering if you might be able to help me on that front. What flowers would be the best for an apology?…just not something too flashy, if that’s possible.” 
He trails with an awkward chuff, obviously not used to being in a flower shop before. You wondered if he even had a favorite flower. You hoped he did.
You could really tell a lot about someone based on the types of flora they surrounded themselves with.
“Apology?” You wonder, tilting your head. Quickly falling into work mode, you continue, “I can work with that. Do you have any preferences? Colors?”
“Well, she likes orange, yeah?” He speaks and your heart sputters for a moment. Smile freezing. “I don’t suppose that’ll help very much, but it’s really all I have to go off of. I’m a bit of a hopeless bastard when it comes to flowers.” Kyle lets off a huff of laughter.
She. Of course, he’s already in a relationship. 
Nodding, you swiftly walk past the man, catching the scent of fresh-tilled earth and rainy grass as your shoulders nearly brush. You can’t help but feel a little disappointed. It wasn’t every day you found yourself attracted to someone. But, oh well, life continues on.
“Well,” heading towards the wall baskets, your body feels heavy, but you quickly force it to the side. You really shouldn’t be surprised. “You said orange? I have about seven you can pick from.”
“Affirmiti–erm, yes, Ma’am.”  
“Hm.” You hear him come up behind you, following at a respectful distance. Throwing a glance over your shoulder, you watch as his eyes slide over the various types of flowers, all separated by color, with deep thought. 
A slight furrow was in his dark brow. His dedication was adorable. 
“What’s this one called?” Kyle asks, moving around you to a bushel of orange poppies and accidentally bumping into your side. 
Grunting, you lightly jerk forward until a hand swiftly grabs your shoulder. Eyelashes fluttering, you look up with shock at the embarrassed face slightly leaning over you. 
“Shit, I’m sorry. That’s my bad.” 
“N-no, you’re fine.” God, this was so awkward. Smiling shakily, you feel the press of his hand over your skin, separated only by the thin barrier of your shirt. Kyle squeezes your flesh before letting go. 
He was staring at you, though. Brown eyes set into dark skin with a soft expression like Pygmalion staring at his marble-wrought Galatea. But as quickly as it was there, the look was gone and the man was clearing his throat, snapping his neck back to the basket and shifting his feet.
Even if you couldn’t explicitly see it, you knew he was blushing – just the same as the heat in your capillaries mirrored. Swallowing to get rid of the dryness of your throat, you realize you’ve been gawking before sliding your hands into your pockets and quickly looking away. 
Why won’t my heart stop beating so fast?
“Those are Orange Poppies. Papaver orientale.” Speaking, you reach forward and grab the stem of a single bloom holding it to him as he gazes down at you from your side. “Common in ‘get well soon’ bouquets, if you were curious.” 
Holding it up to him, you watch his fingers delicately pluck it from you like the flower was made of glass. It nearly made you laugh, but you settled on a small smile instead. 
“It’s pretty…” Kyle pauses, and you read it well enough.
“...But not what you were looking for.” Settling on the answer, you giggle when he passes off a sheepish smile and a nod. “I kind of guessed. Here – how about this.” 
He ends up buying a handful of orange Tulips, Myrtle leaf for greenery, and a small gathering of Baby’s-Breath. Behind the counter, you try to stay focused on setting the flora perfectly in the clear vase as your clippers lay beside it. Frowning, you take the long stem of a Tulip and snip the end at an angle, placing it to the far left of the rest with a concentrated set of your eyebrows. 
“So,” Kyle says, breaking the silence, and your fingers twitch as your spell is shattered. Soul stilling, you look up at him as he waits on the other side of the counter with his arms comfortably crossed. He leans back on his heels, feet shoulder-length apart. “Busy day today, then? Other places around here are mostly dark by five.”
Standing straighter, you politely smile before going back to the arrangement, hand reaching for the small white tufts of Baby’s-Breath.
“Mostly, yeah.” You cock your head to the side, “I was supposed to be home two hours ago, but one lady was very adamant about getting the most ‘perfect’ flowers, as she told it.” 
Chuckling humorlessly, you step back and stare at the vase, not aware of the eyes stuck on the tired slump of your shoulders or the slight frown staining the man’s lips. 
“Two hours? Well, that’s a bit excessive.” Kyle remarks, eyelids creasing, “I’d hope she at least left a tip for you?” 
That gets a laugh out of you, lungs jerking for a moment; focus once more brought back to the present at the preposterous words that just left your customer’s mouth. Those brown eyes suck you back in to a point where you wonder if you’d ever be able to look away.
“Now that’s funny, Mr. Garrick.”
He lets the subject drop, but you notice a slight crease in-between in brows – a narrowness to his eyes that wasn't there before. You try not to think too much into it, but Kyle certainly did seem like the man to get upset when people aren’t treated respectfully. The thought warms your heart. 
Or maybe I’m just reading too much into this. 
“Is there anything you’d like me to rearrange, Sir…? Do you want a note to go with it?” Seemingly lost in thought, Kyle comes back to you with a diligent shake of his head.
“It looks perfect, Love. And, please, just Kyle’s alright. You’re makin’ me sound like an old man when you talk like that.” He chuckles, and it’s a rich, velvety sort of thing – twisted with blue satin and wrapped in a gentle breeze. Your stomach twists. 
“Then I suppose that’s it, then. I’ll get you the bill and you can be on your way.” Turning around to calculate the total price, you make a quick comment in passing, not really thinking about it as you tap on your calculator. “I hope your girlfriend and you make up.” 
A stunned silence falls, but you only focus on the numbers, jotting down the total on a sticky note and turning around after re-running the costs a last time. When your eyes lock with him, your feet stall at the dumbfounded look on Kyle’s face and the confusion ingrained in his body language. His head had pulled back slightly, hat tilted.
“What’s that?” He asks. 
“Your…girlfriend?” You say slowly, walking closer and passing him the sticky note, “you said you were getting her apology flowers?” 
The handsome man blinks at you before realization lights in his eyes like fire. Kyle laughs deeply, putting a hand on top of his head and pressing down on his cap.
“Oh, Bloody hell, no.” He takes a deep breath and you feel your lips pressed together in confusion, innocent intrigue taking place in your skull. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart, I should have told you right off. This is for my mum.” 
Blinking in surprise you pause, looking up with wide eyes. 
Sweetheart?...Mum?! Your face heats to an intense level. Oh. 
“O-oh I didn’t…” He’s reaching for his wallet with a large lop-sided smile on his face and understanding eyes, watching you as he flips it open. You settle with a single laugh and say, “sorry, I guess I just assumed.”
But you can’t help the sudden relief that sprouted out of nowhere that leaves your lips pulling back in a mirrored grin. You’d been doing that a lot, as of the last fifteen minutes. 
“It’s no problem,” Kyle admits, “Thing is, I’ve been off on deployment for a while, and I missed my return date party, unfortunately. Just got back about noon today and I decided I was going to surprise her tonight.” The man pulls out a large stack of bills, “Thought she’d like that, yeah? Can’t go wrong with flowers, can you?” 
“You’re in the military?” You ask smoothly but internally swoon at the thought of a son giving his mother flowers out of the kindness of his heart. Whoever she was, you know the woman who raised this man would be overjoyed with the prospect of simply having him home safe and sound before anything else. 
Did not Penelope, wife of Odysseus, care for her son Telemachus more than anything? Above danger and possible death? They protected each other. You supposed it was the same in this situation. 
Being able to be a part of it made your legs weak.
“Something like that, Ma’am.” Kyle’s lips flick into a smirk as he hands you the bills. “Feels like I’m surrounded by children most days, but there’s no place I’d rather be…When I’m not nearly getting my head bloody blown off, that is.”
You huff in amusement, and slight concern, taking the payment and settling it on the counter without checking the numbers; never doubting whether he gave you the right amount or not.  
“Well, it seems like you’ve got it all figured out.” Garrick looks to his feet for a moment, pocketing his wallet, and clears his throat near mutely. He tilts his head back up to you.
“Nearly,” he whispers under his breath, a delicate wrinkle on his forehead as his lips pull in a minute, closed, grin. Sheepishly, you look away from his intense brown gaze before you can make a fool of yourself as giddiness sparks in your racing heart. What was happening to you? You have to ask yourself. Where was all of this blatant scatterbrained activity stemming from? No one had ever made you act like this before. 
As you look away, your eyes unintentionally land on the wall clock across the room, and your thoughts still like water in a puddle. Eyes widening comedically, you feel your lips part. 
“I really need to be closing up.” You say apologetically, looking back to the man who touches one of the Myrtle leaves carefully, running it between his thumb and forefinger. Under you, your feet shift over the floor. “Is this all you’ll be needing?” 
“Pretty sure.” Garrick answers easily, “I won't keep you any longer, eh? I’d hate it if I made you go home by yourself after dark.” 
“That’s very thoughtful, Kyle, thank you.” Pushing the vase over the counter, he takes it up and pauses as if he wants to say something. His mouth opens before closing – looking at his feet for a moment and itching at his neck with his free hand. 
“I…don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Ma’am,” your breath hollows, watching carefully as you listen. “But, uh, I,” Kyle shifts his eyes to your face, standing a bit straighter as the corner of his lip flicks up, “You’re just about the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met – if that’s not overstepping, of course.” 
He laughs stiffly to dispel tension, and the air suddenly gets ten times hotter at the brutally honest, if not mildly stuttered, confession. You can nearly hear the blood rushing to your head like a flood of ocean water – more violent and immediate than a tsunami. In your ribcage, your bones ache at the beating organ and the swell of your lungs. Having to take a deep breath to not forget yourself entirely, your mind rages.
Did he really just say that? He…he called me beautiful. 
When was the last time you had been called that? By such a lovely and kind man nonetheless. Kyle seemed like a confident person, his profession telling you that already, but the way he was acting now he seemed hesitant; like he was appalled by the fact you would take what he was saying the wrong way and come off creepy. 
But that was so blatantly opposite of how you were reacting. 
“I-” You stutter, eyes snapping away and hands coming to hold themselves in front of your abdomen, “well, I think you’re very handsome, yourself, Kyle.” A meek expression spreads your visage as you see the breath in his chest hitch, “and I wouldn’t call that overstepping at all. Not by a long shot.” 
His eyes widen, and a second of intense eye contact later, he smiles and glances away. Garrick sneaks looks as you bite your lip, and finally, he nods firmly before his phone starts to ring in his pocket. 
As if a switch had turned, his hand snaps down and grasps the device, peeling it out of his khakis and checking the contact. Immediately he utters.
“Oh, Shit, this is her. I’ve got to run.” He walks backward a few steps before turning and lightly jogging to the front door. Following with your eyes, you’re somewhat entranced by the man. 
Before he can walk through the door, he stops in his tracks.
“Sorry, again,” Kyle turns back around, and his dark eyebrows crease, “but, uh, what days are you open?” 
The giddy smile that forms on your cheeks leaves your skin hurting.
“All of ‘em except the weekends,” you say, confidence suddenly sprouting in your veins, “but I’m sure if you told me ahead of time that you were stopping by, I’d make an exception.”
“I’d imagine for emergency flowers only?” Kyle teases, a smirk on his face. His eyes promise you, though, that this will not be the last time you see him. 
“Of course.” You reply, raising a brow. “I’m a florist, after all, Garrick. Emergency flowers are my specialty. If you’re ever in need of more, I’ll be here, waiting.”
He laughs, stares for a few seconds longer with a distant sheen, and disappears through the door. You don’t follow when his form fades from the windows entirely. You don’t ask for his number, even if you knew you should have. You don’t look at the amount he gave you as you put it in the register, knowing, even by your intuition, that it is double the amount he was due. 
You’d just tell him all about it when you saw him again.
Until Kyle Garrick showed up you had been focused; as immovable as a mountain, but then as the days drew on, you faltered. Your eyes would linger on the glass as people pass by, heart in your throat and feet tapping as you bound stems. Flowers had taken up so much of your life, but now another was trying to push its way in – slowly infecting you like a parasite in your mind as the days went on. 
And as he kept showing up, month after month, he had taken to calling you Persephone. A goddess of spring and nature; beautiful flowers of all colors and shapes growing on hills and in vibrant meadows. It was perhaps the greatest compliment someone like you could have been given. At first, it had been a nickname until it had become as common as your actual title, and Kyle used it so much even regular customers teased you with it with smirks and side-eyes. You only rolled your optics with a burning under your skin and a small smile.
“Well, look, it’s Persephone…”
“That boy of yours here, Persephone? Hiding in the back room perhaps?”
“Persephone – you have any Peonies this week?”
You didn’t mind it…really, you didn’t. If anything, you thought it was precious. A man comparing you to a goddess that danced in green fields as flowers sprouted at her feet? Yes, that was quite alright.
Quite alright, indeed.
The office room was cold, he thought. Nearly a meat locker. 
How in the hell can he stand to work in here, Kyle asked himself. Bloody place is like a damn winter storm just minus the snow. 
He was seated in one of the two chairs in front of the mahogany desk, hands on the armrests and feet tapping the floor. When the Sergeant had gotten the order on his radio to come to Captain Price’s office ASAP, he had expected the man to already be here, but five minutes later he was still sitting in silence. 
That wasn’t to say he was bored, though. He was thinking of you. He could never be bored when he did that. 
It brings a small smile to Garrick’s face as he relives your last interaction, lips unconsciously twitching as his eyes grow distant. 
You’d made him a flower crown, mostly as a joke, but had been left in raging fits of laughter when you’d placed it on his head. 
“Hold still,” you grunt, sitting on the front counter and keeping the weaved headpiece in your grip as it hovers above the man’s scalp, “I want to get it centered on the first go.”
“Y’know,” Kyle chuffs, “I could always do it myself – I do have working hands, Love.” 
“Shush!” Exclaiming, your breath fans his face, leaving him more still than a statue, if only to smell your scent and be content with your body so close to his. Kyle was still working out the best way to ask you out officially, but that didn’t seem to extend to his instinctual actions when it came to you. It was increasingly hard to stop his head from leaning just that tiniest bit forward and connecting his lips to yours. 
The pressure on his head brings him back, and his eyes blink as if they could force all the rogue thoughts from his mind. Kyle clears his throat when you lean back, acutely aware of the longing set of his dark brows as he had stared off at you. 
“Well, then,” The Sergeant clears his throat and smiles at your concentrated face, though he notices the hitch in your chest with a strange sense of pride. “How’s it lookin'? Is just as you imagined, eh?”
Your face scrunches, head tilting. Kyle couldn’t remember a time he’d let someone put a wreath of flowers on his head, woven with Forget-Me-Nots, Silver Dollar Eucalyptus, and Tiger Lillies. The others would make fun of him for this. 
But he found he cared little. If you kept smiling at him like that, he’d let you do anything to him in a heartbeat. 
“Perfect.” You chuckle. “You should have let me do this earlier.”
The shop was closed – it was a weekend, after all, and that was the time for restocking and number crunching. Not really the time for making crowns for a man who was totally smitten with you.  
“You sure that you don’t need these?” Kyle asks, a hand reaching up to his head to touch the flora. “I’d hate to not pay you for them, Love. Can only imagine how expensive they are to order.” 
“Eh,” rolling your eyes, your legs brush the Sergeant’s hips from where they sit around them, and the man has to remember how to breathe properly, “they’re the old product, anyway. I’d have to get rid of them by Monday. Better for such a handsome individual to have a crown of his own, with all the gallantry he practices in his job. It’s the least I could do, hm?”
You’re teasing him, a smirk taking up the frame of Kyle’s vision. He returns the action, hands coming to rest on either side of your hips; leaning forward until his nose with mere inches away. He hears your chest rattle with a slow breath.
“Are you teasin’ me, Persephone?” He asks sneakily, as you begin to giggle. “Insinuating I need a flower crown to be recognized at work? It’ll certainly get me attention, that’s for sure, yeah? Just not the kind I want. Soap’ll have a field day.” 
“He’d just make a few comments, I’m sure.” 
“You’ve never met him. The bloke would never let it go until the day I kicked the bucket.” You’re laughing, one hand coming up to cover your mouth. 
Kyle hates himself at that moment because you’ve never looked so beautiful, and he can’t quite pick up the courage to just lean in. So he watches with a matching look of happiness and an embarrassing, yet adored, flower crown on top of his close-shaven head. He watches with an ache in his chest and a violent beat to his heart as your body heat melts into him; urging him, prompting him. 
But he just smiles and watches a moment longer before taking a step back. 
“Sir,” Garrick asks, settling back down and watching the older man slink behind his desk, “What’s all this about?” 
The door opens with a firm hand. Kyle startles to his feet, tuning and about to go into an instinctual formal greeting before the Captain speaks, beating him to it.
“At ease, Sergeant. Take a seat.”  
Price sighs as he takes a seat, slapping a large file that was previously in his hand to the wood before opening his drawer with a grunt. Gaz watches with narrowed eyes as his superior ignores his question, pulling out a large cigar from a lockbox and slotting it between his lips. A lighter follows soon after, and soon the smell of burning tobacco enters the air. 
“...Captain?” Kyle was starting to get nervous now. Why was he looking at him like that? Blue eyes seem to dig deep into Gaz’s soul, trying to find something that was hidden behind layers and layers of flesh and bone. 
John pulls the stick from his lips and holds it between his fingers, smoke now entering the air and rising to perforate like mist. Feet shifting over the floor, Kyle’s heart skips a beat. 
What in the hell is going on? 
That’s when the bearded man speaks. 
“Well, who are they, then?” Price asks, tilting his head forward as his bucket hat sits where it usually does atop his brown hair. The Captain’s eyes are squinted; curious but still laced with that authority that never seemed to leave no matter how many years the two had known each other. 
“Pardon, Sir?” Gaz has to ask, confusion prominent in his expression. “They?”
John raises a thick brow as if the answer was obvious.
“You’re distracted. Been checking your phone like it’s going to explode the last few days. So,” the Captain stares at him heavily, taking another drag before placing the cigar in his ashtray and breathing out a cloud of smoke. He leans forward and places his hands on the table, as Kyle watches, perplexed, “who is it, Sergeant? No use hiding it.”
“I…” Gaz trails before blinking dumbly, lips parting, “oh, hell, was it that obvious?”
“Painfully.” The answer makes the younger man cringe and his skin pulls tight. A pause leaves the room silent, the Sergeant avoiding his Captain’s gaze as he tilts his head away for a moment. He clears his throat. 
“She’s just…” Kyle clears his throat, “someone I met in the city. A florist. Down on Main Ave.”
“A florist, eh?” Grunting, John nods his head to himself. “Asked the bird out, then?” 
“What?” Snapping his head up, Gaz says loudly with stuttering lips, “N-no, Sir. Not yet.” 
The man ahead of him hums, leaning back and flipping his file open, taking a moment to pick up the first page and skim the contents with small eyes. He looks over the top with a blank expression. 
“I’d get on that, Son.” 
Today was different, you knew. Something was going to happen. An unexplainable feeling was in the back of your mind, making you somewhat anxious even if you didn’t know exactly why. It was like a sheet had been thrown over your head and someone had just told you to run in circles without hitting a wall; feet tied with a rope. 
The morning had started off normal, as had everything else that followed, but there was an air of expectation wafting in front of you. 
What’s going on? You ask as you wipe down the counter with a wet rag, swiping stray leaves and petals into the garbage bin at your feet. Why am I feeling like I’m expecting something to happen? 
It was Tuesday – nothing astounding ever happens on Tuesdays. 
The front door opens with the ringing of a silver bell, and you say absentmindedly, still caught in your thoughts, “be with you in a moment!” 
A cough startles you, your hand squeezing the rag a bit tighter as your neck twists upwards. 
“Hope I’m not interrupting.” 
“Kyle,” you laugh and take a breath, “I didn’t expect you today…” 
Freezing, your lips part in a silent gasp when you see it. The man you had come to have quite the crush on was standing a few paces from the door, dressed in a nice shirt and dress pants, jacket in the crook of his arm. He holds a single Sunflower in his grasp. 
It wasn’t anything overly impressive, a bit small and dead at the tips, but nonetheless, your heart stuttered at the gift. Staring at it silently, you turn your gaze to Kyle as his feet shift over the floor nervously. A strange look had overtaken his face, but he had a confident air to him that you’d been seeing more and more of the last few visits. 
“What’s this?” You ask carefully, body going hot all over and lungs swelling. 
You’d loved flowers for most of your life; worshiped them like the people of Delphi worshiped their god-chosen Oracle. But never could you recall a moment when you had been given any out of free will. Everyone always assumed you disliked getting them because of your job, but, oh, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Flowers were like declarations of emotions – they could mean so many things to so many different people. They were the truth laid bare in nature as plainly as it could be, wrought with promises.
Your breath stills, eyelids pulling back delicately; lips parting. 
Kyle speaks softly, raising the flower in his grip.
“I remembered you saying you liked these more than roses – you called them ‘tacky’ if I’m…remembering correctly. The roses, that is.”
He was remembering correctly. But that had been just a passing comment to another customer you had been helping before him. Unimportant. A quick piece of yourself that hadn’t mattered while you were cutting stems and looping twine. 
But he remembered it. 
A giggle falls from you until your hand snaps up, trapping it behind parted fingers and an awe-filled face. 
“I wanted to give it to you,” he continued, walking forward with measured steps, “and ask you a question, if you’d let me.”
“Of course, I would.” It’s breathless, the way you say it, and suddenly you know exactly why you've been so on edge today. 
You’d been waiting for him.
And when he smiles at you, your mind runs to gossamer silk. Such a delicate thing; that smile, comparable to the millions of strands a spider spins in a lifetime. Gorgeous and so very easily missed if you weren’t looking at just the right moment. Gossamer Silk. 
Since when has his grin become so important to you? To where you craved it just as violently as water or food? That look in his amber gaze – the one that left you breathless even when you simply thought about it, that was what you wanted to witness when you woke up in the mornings. You wanted his arms around you. You wanted his lips pressed to yours. You wanted him to be in your kitchen making you dinner as the rain fell outside and the flowers in your back garden grew strong and beautiful. 
You wanted him to be yours.
Kyle stops behind the counter and hands you the flower. You reach for it without complaint instantaneously, wondering momentarily if he had just happened upon one and taken it in a moment of passion. Both of your fingers brush, and the imaginary sparks that fly make you turn slightly shy, head tilting to the side for a moment. 
But a finger hooks under your chin, moving it back as delicately as bird wings, gentle feathers tickling your flesh and nerves. 
A hum resonates in your chest, eyes crinkling as you stare into amber brown with flecks of gold. You could get lost in them if you looked too much. 
But you didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.
“Persephone, would you do me the great honor,” the two of you laugh at the wispy and teasing tone, and suddenly you wish the counter between you would disappear into thin air, “of going on a date with me tonight?” 
Tuesdays, perhaps, might have just become the best day of the week, and a small Sunflower with dead tips and fading yellow, your new favorite flower. 
Ironic, how that works. He ended up distracting you more than you could ever imagine.
“Don’t you have to be back on base soon, Garrick?” You mutter into a warm chest, street lights shining into the windows of the apartment. 
“Bloody hell, yes…But I’d crawl back to you, if you asked it of me.”
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the-froschamethyst4 · 1 month
Text
My Daddy is My Hero
𖤐Pairing: Husband! Price x Wife! Reader
𖤐Pronouns: She/Her
𖤐Warnings: TOOTH ROTTING fluff, slight angst, language, married couple, children, codenames,
𖤐Summary: Your daughter Iris had a project for her school and it was ‘Who is your Hero’ and picks someone close to her
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"Mama."
Y/n heard the tiny voice of her 7 year-old daughter Iris. She smiles and turns to look at her daughter.
"Yes, baby?" Y/n asks.
"We're doing a project for school, called 'My Hero' and I decided to do daddy, can you help me?" Iris asks.
"Okay, what do you need me to do?" Y/n says, wiping her hands and placing her hands on her hips walking to her daughter.
"What did daddy do?"
"For the military?" Iris nods in response. "Well, why don't I help you with your paper first, okay?"
"Okay, mama."
"Alright let me see what you got."
This was a week ago, Y/n helped Iris with her paper for hours and kept the project a secret from John.
"My Hero is my daddy, John Bravo Six Price. My daddy was part of the Military as a Captain, he is also the member of the British SAS. Sometimes my daddy is away for months, and I miss every time he leaves, but he tells me he'll come back safe and he always brings me a souvenir from his adventures." She digs in her backpack and pulls out a few things to show off.
"This is a picture of my daddy and some of his work friends, this one is Ghost and this one is Gaz." She puts them back and then grabs a few things that Price has brought back for her.
"This is a mini pyramid, when he went to Egypt. This is a tin art piece from Mexico, they traditionally have art of landscapes of them and pretty flowers. And this is stein from Germany, they usually put their drinks in it." She puts everything back in her bag.
"My daddy is currently in Russia right now and is coming back today, I am excited to see my daddy, and he is my hero."
"Wow! Thank you Iris for sharing, a round of applauds for Iris," her teacher says.
--------
At the end of the day Iris had walked outside to see her mom standing in the car rider line.
"MAMA!"
"Hi, baby," Y/n bends down kissing her daughter's temple, Y/n noticed her paper in her hands. "What's this baby?" Y/n asked.
"My paper for my hero, I got a 100% and a gold star," Iris smiles.
"That's great baby," Y/n kissed her daughter's temple again, before they walked to Y/n's car.
"Mama, is daddy coming home today?"
"Yep," Y/n says, buckling her daughter in her car seat.
----------
Once Y/n pulled into the driveway and helped her daughter out of her car seat they go inside and Y/n placed Iris's paper on the fridge, so when John comes in, he'll see it.
--------
Iris and Y/n played some board games before Price came home. Price was stuck in traffic and just wanted to go home to his family, Y/n smiled at her daughter who was still trying to understand the rules of the game.
"Honey you move 4 spaces."
"But when I play with Anna, she says I'm suppose to move 8 times."
"Why?" Y/n asked with a confused look and a slight giggle.
"Because four plus four equals eight."
"Honey, you're not adding anything. What you roll is what you roll, you rolled a four so you move four places."
"Okay, mama," Iris says with no more argument.
"Daddy has finally arrived," John says as he comes through the front door, Iris pops her head up and Y/n looks over her shoulder at her husband.
"DADDY!" Iris yells, running towards him. He drops his stuff and picks her up.
"How is my baby girl, huh?" He asks Iris kissing her cheek.
"Good," Y/n gets up off the floor and walks over to him, her hands running over his shoulders and hugging his neck.
"And how is mommy doing?" He asked in a bit of a seductive tone before kissing Y/n's lips.
"Just fine." She says to him.
"Oh daddy, look," Iris wiggled from his hold and ran to the fridge, pulling the paper off the fridge.
"What's this?" He asks her, looking at the 100% with his usual big smile and then reading 'My Hero'. "Oh...I remember doing a project like this when I was younger, my hero was Aunt," he smiles and bends down to his daughter. "Who was yours, baby?" He asks.
"Read it daddy," she giggles and hands him the paper.
"My hero is my..." Price looks at it thinking maybe he was reading it wrong. "My daddy...Captain John Bravo Six Price." He reads the papers, tears wanting to fall from his eyes but he held them, choking on some of the words.
Iris hated seeing her father so upset...The last time she's seem him upset is when her grandpa passed away. Iris took her small hand wiping her daddy's tears that did soon fall on his cheeks.
The sight melted Y/n's heart. Price's big hand cupped hers and kissed her knuckles.
"Thank you, baby," he says, pulling her into the biggest and longest hug. "This deserves to be framed," he jokes and looks at his wife who has been crying since Price started reading the paper. He pulls her into a hug as well.
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9:00PM
Price couldn't help but constantly re-reading the paper, he was laying in bed, Y/n was doing her nightly routine and Iris was asleep peacefully in her bed.
"John?"
"Why did she pick me?" He asked.
"Because she loves you," Y/n says, crawling on the bed.
She cups his face and kissed his lips. "Did she tell you, she was going to pick me?"
"Yes...but...she loves you...she loves the little things you bring back for her, she took one of your bucket hats to school because she missed you so much. You are her hero, Price and you always will be, I hope you know that."
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Price couldn't sleep, he looks at the ceiling and then at his sleeping wife next to him, he caresses her face kissing her forehead and getting out of the bed. He puts on a t-shirt and headed down the hall
He goes to the kitchen, he notices the light on in the kitchen and then seeing a little someone with a glass in her hands.
"Iris...baby, what are you doing up?" He asked.
"I can't sleep, and I was thirsty," Iris says, looking up at him, but he bends down to her level. She walks to him, his arms wrapping around her as she was still holding her glass of water.
"Come on, baby," he rubs her side and kiss her temple as she followed him back to her bedroom. He opens her bedroom door and she walks in, placing her glass on the nightstand and getting back into her bed but Price rests on her right side of her.
"Daddy."
"Yes?"
"Can you stay home, tomorrow?" Iris asked, looking at her daddy. She rolls on her side and plays with his dog tags.
"I can see," he says, placing his arm over her side rubbing her side again and patting her small leg.
Iris's eyes felt heavy, and she ended up falling asleep, Price looked to his right and looked down at his tired, sleeping daughter, he smiles kissing the top of her head.
He ends up falling asleep in Iris's bed, Y/n woke up to an empty bed and walked to her daughter's bedroom seeing a sleeping Price and Iris.
Price holding Iris and her face buried into his side. She smiles at her husband and baby girl, she walks in kissing his forehead and kissing Iris's temple.
--------
The next morning Y/n and Iris were in the kitchen and Price was still asleep in his daughter twin size bed. Iris's princess blanket draped over him.
Y/n pushed a mug of hot chocolate to Iris and Y/n stood next to Iris to help her with homework. Price had came out of his daughter's bedroom yawning and looking at his daughter and wife.
He kisses Y/n's neck and kisses Iris's forehead, he fixes himself some tea and leans over the counter watching his two girls.
Iris was writing down what Y/n was telling her, Y/n's right hand moved Iris's dirty blonde hair from her face, looking like the girl version of her father but the feminine features of her mother.
Price sees the paper on 'My Hero' on the counter and placed it back on the fridge, he kisses his daughter's temple and wife's temple before walking into the master bedroom and grabbing his phone.
He was going to fulfil his daughter's wishes and he will stay home today.
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static-radio-ao3 · 2 months
Text
@jegulus-microfic // february 4 // prompt: old // words: 619
Regulus reaches up with a sly grin on his face, hands coming to rest on James' chest and smoothing down the imaginary wrinkles in his white button down.
“I quite like being your trophy husband. All I have to do is stand here and be pretty—”
“And we both know how good you are at that,” James says as he leans down to drag his nose along the column of Regulus’ neck, lips following behind.
Regulus hums, a quiet thing. The scratch of James' five o'clock shadow against the sensitive skin of his neck makes blood rush to his head.
“A pretty, young thing for you to show off to all your old friends.” Regulus resists the urge to throw back his head and give James more space to work. Has to remind himself they're in public, although that has never stopped him before.
James' hands tighten where they're resting on Regulus' waist, fingers splayed possessively, just so everyone knows they can look but can't touch.
One hand slips under the hem of Regulus' shirt, settling on his hip. The feel of the cool wedding band against his skin contact makes him shiver and Regulus relishes in the knowledge that James is his.
“My friends aren't that old,” James says with a huff, pulling back from where he was mouthing at Regulus’ pulse point. There's no heat behind the words, though. Only fond amusement.
“Your friends are probably popping Viagra with their morning multivitamins,” Regulus says as he rolls his eyes.
There's violin music filtering through the room, and waiters with trays filled with Champagne weaving their way through the crowd. Although Regulus must admit that the hors d'oeuvres are excellent. He's snagged a few of a platter before dragging James to a secluded corner.
James leans down, tilting his head just so. Regulus knows he could press their lips together in a kiss if he would just tilt his face up to James. It would be so easy, like a flower to the sun.
“A pretty, young thing with a wicked tongue,” James murmurs, the words brushing over Regulus’ lips. They smell a little like Champagne and something sweet.
“You'd know all about that, huh?” He teases, fingers sliding up from where they were still resting on James' chest to the side of his neck where Regulus knows a hickey is hidden beneath the collar. Light catches on the thin wedding band he's wearing around his ring finger. The sight has heat coiling in his stomach.
Something flashes in James' eye, but it's gone before Regulus has the chance to decipher its meaning. Just as well, because the look is swallowed up by lust. The brown of James' iris disappearing, his pupils dilating as if they can't get enough of Regulus.
And Regulus knows he looks good; a silk shirt in a shade of green so dark it looks almost black, a thin layer of gloss on his lips and his curls mussed just so. It's a miracle they even made it out of the bedroom tonight, let alone the house. But James had insisted on coming, told Regulus they couldn't get away with skipping yet another party.
So they showed up and danced and mingled and Regulus watched as James talked to his friends. He always has a hand tucked into the bend of James' elbow, or one of James' arms around his waist or on his shoulders, a comforting weight.
After another moment of silence, eyes locked on each other, Regulus clears his throat. “I want to dance,” he declares.
“That's fine with me,” James says. “I like showing you off.”
Secretly Regulus thinks that he's the one showing off; James the trophy and Regulus the winner.
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deadvnstudios · 1 month
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oh no! i got into a argument with the romanceables and they said something so stupid that upset me! how do they apologize? :3
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"H-hey. Can you just... come to my room tonight? I… I have something I want to show you."
Upon entering Tempest's room later that evening, you're immediately struck by its uncharacteristic cleanliness and the candles meticulously arranged along his shelves. They cast a warm glow over Tempest, seated on his bed with legs crossed, cradling a guitar in his lap. He proceeds to serenade you with a song, personally composed for you, by him. The performance is brief, encompassing only a single verse, and as the final note fades, Tempest asks you to forgive him.
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"Oopsy-daisy, baby's breath. Iris-pectfully apologize. Please forget-me-not… and uhm… Look. Bad puns aside, what I'm trying to say is… I'm sorry for upsetting you."
The morning after your fight, you find Vein lingering outside your room, a vibrant bouquet of your favorite flowers in her hands. Before you can react, the flowers are crumpled against your chest in a crushing embrace as Vein pulls you into a whirlwind hug. The world blurs as she spins you round and round, leaving you with only two choices:
a) vomit from dizziness or
b) accept her sincerest apology
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"Fine, I messed up. Happy? Now pick your apology – but you only get one, got it?"
Insisting that you would be unable to sleep until she apologized, Mary storms into your room in the dead of night, jarring you from sleep. Taking advantage of your grogginess, she pins you to your bed and fans out the thin, crumpled slices of paper clutched in her hand. She orders you to select one. On each slip of paper, a different IOU is written:
IOU a full day of doing whatever the hell you want to do
IOU a movie night where we watch all of your favorite trash movies
IOU a letter detailing all of your least annoying traits
IOU a homemade dinner of your choosing (...but cooked by Noel, he owes me)
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"Darling dearest, how much longer will you leave me to linger in the hall? My night will be frigid, unbearably bothersome as I shiver on my lonesome without you by my side….could you find it in your heart to forgive a fool? At least one foolishly in love?”
You sigh as Mona continues to dramatically plead at your bedroom door, talons tapping incessantly against the wood as her anxieties begin to emerge. As you finally open the door, she rushes in and nearly tackles you to the ground. Trapped within her hold she noisily smooches over the entirety of your face, cradling you like you’re something precious. Irreplaceable. You two will have a serious talk in the morning, but you’ll spend the rest of the night tangled together, cuddling under the sheets as she whispers into your ear every reason she fell for you to begin with.
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“Beloved, the affliction of affection ails me; my world becoming insipid and dull in your absence. In having wounded you, I have wounded myself. I will eagerly bleed my heart dry in repentance if it can’t beat beside yours. I would give you all of myself to see you smile at me once more. Please, return to me tomorrow. I miss you.”
The note Sorin slipped under your door is littered with a stray tear mark here and there. Your heart aches as the the crooked letters, scribbled on hurriedly, bleed across the page from the dampness. When you go to find him the next morning, Sorin eagerly intertwines their fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles as they beg for your pardon and your company. The two of you plan to take a nap in the sunlit garden, but you have to silence Sorin with a kiss as he prattles on, praising your character.
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”Wait…I…please. Hear me out.”
Noel heaves against the doorframe, one arm holding open the door you’d planned to shove close. Though his ears burn in shame, he requests that you join him that evening for dinner. In his room. Alone. When you arrive you’re taken aback by the makeshift candlelit dinner set up on a picnic blanket on the floor. Noel sheepishly lights a candle, letting you know that he’s prepared your favorite. He doesn’t want to talk while the two of you are hangry.
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raincandyart · 8 months
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Dollie, my love! <3
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[ID: Art of Dahlia Hawthorne from Ace Attorney: Trials and Tribulations. It is done in a semi-realistic artstyle with a blocky brush to small detail. The angle is 3/4 with her more facing the right side of the screen but looking off to the left, her left hand resting on her opposite shoulder. Her expression is tense, with tears falling down her cheek from her covered eye. Half of her face is covered with Dahlia and Hawthorn flowers. The flowers are also peeking around from the right side of her face and on her right shoulder. The poison bottle necklace hangs from her neck, a strong blue glow emits from it. The background is dark, however the blue glow still reflects onto it, showing stained glass panes behind Dahlia. One of the glass panes is an iris and others have magatama detailing. She appears in a mostly canon form, except for the mole under her eye and the necklace. There are four other photos. A close up of the flower on her right shoulder. A close up of the flowers covering the other half of the face. A close up of her face, showing the high detail in her eye, which shows the back figure of Iris reflecting onto her eye. Also, a closeup of the necklace./end ID]
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jinkicake · 1 year
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Washing His Hair
Diluc, Kaeya, Tighnari, Xiao x Reader
A/N: I was tots excited to write this bc i wanted fluff,, happy belated birthday to tighnari (whats your name b.o.b so they calling you bob) yay bath time!
WC - 2k~
~~~
Diluc R.
Diluc is exhausted, it may not show because of his extreme dedication to maintaining a pleasant facade but, you know better. 
It’s why you wordlessly drag him to the bathroom in the early afternoon, forcing him to sit on the rim of the bathtub as you bend down to place the stopper in it. He silently watches you as you begin to fill the tub with water and sprinkle in a few aromatic flower petals. 
The way you treat him with such kindness baffles him. 
You kiss the corner of his eyes while removing his jacket, you cup his chin softly while easily pulling the ribbon out from his hair. There is a gentle side to your touch as you remove his gloves and kiss each of his rugged knuckles like they haven’t ended countless lives before. 
The man doesn’t understand how any of the archons could have blessed him with such a miracle. Your kindness shines through each of your actions and, for the briefest moment, it physically hurts Diluc. How could he ever measure up to someone who is worthy of your love and affection?
“Come on, get in the tub,” You gently pat the tops of his bare thighs and the action snaps Diluc from his internal demise. He blinks at you before doing as you ask, he lets you direct his body exactly as you want in the small porcelain space. “relax, Diluc.” 
With his hands resting on the rim of the bathtub, chest fully on display and out of the water, you reach over to grab his hand. You offer him a gentle smile before squeezing his hand in your own. 
Diluc can’t meet your own eyes as internal shame begins to creep up his throat, suffocating him. 
He doesn’t see the way your face drops or how you roll your eyes before grabbing one of the nice shampoos from Liyue off the counter (one he got especially for you). You place the container in his hand before grabbing a small bucket from the shower to wet his hair. 
Diluc continues to remain silent as you begin to work through his thick fiery locks. 
“Remember this?” The shampoo becomes his main focus as you grab it, holding it up before placing some of the substance in your hands. “You got it for me because the seller said it works great with thick hair,” 
Must you remember that? Diluc all but turns red as embarrassment flushes his cheeks, he doesn’t need a reminder of how rotten he spoils you. 
“We both have thick hair so we can share it, okay?” You place a kiss against his temple before bringing your hands up to his scalp, the immediate pleasure that your fingertips bring makes Diluc grip the edge of the tub. “You’re always so kind to me, but sometimes I want to spoil you.” 
At this, Diluc finally meets your eyes and uncertainty swims in his bright iris.
Any fear in his heart is squashed by the love pooling in your own eyes. 
“Won’t you let me?"
Kaeya A.
“Kaeya,” 
In such a blissful state, being surrounded by hot water, Kaeya can only let out a hum of contentment at your lovely voice. 
“Stop staring already.” 
He has to tear his eyes away from your soft body, beautifully crafted by each of the archons, to meet your hard glare. The frown on your lips and stubborn furrow of your brows makes his heart skip a beat. There is nothing more that the cavalry captain loves than sharing a bath with you. 
Even when you try to waterboard him by pouring a bucket of water over his head. 
“Angel-” Kaeya sighs before moving his large body, too big for the tub, so that he can rest against your chest instead of staring at it. His fruitful efforts are followed by a splash as water escapes the edges of the tub and falls onto the marble floor. 
“You’re cleaning that up,” You scold as your husband closes his eyes once again, resting his head against your shoulder. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to hide the shiver of pleasure that runs down his spine as your hands run over his shoulders. Your touch is gentle and delicate, lighting dancing across his smooth skin before dipping towards the front of his body. You tease him by sneakily running your fingertips along his chest, tracing random patterns solely to get a rise out of him. 
Just when Kaeya opens his mouth to say something, to insinuate that you should further lowering your hands, you instead reach for his head. He doesn’t open his eyes but he hears the light pop of a bottle and the puff of air that comes from it as you squeeze the container. There’s a wet noise that comes with the way you rub your hands together, causing the shampoo to soap up before you bring your hands to his scalp. 
Kaeya nearly moans at the feeling of your fingertips massaging the top of his head, he falls limp into your hold and completely relaxes into your touch. 
“My star, I adore you,” He groans as your talented fingers continue to knead circles against the root of his hair. The delightful feeling of your lips against his ear graces him and nearly causes Kaeya to gasp.
“Mhm, I know,” The soft kiss you leave against his jaw makes his heart clench painfully, it’s as if the worship he dedicates to you is finally starting to show. If you understand this mere fraction of love he has for you then Kaeya will continue working to make sure you see it all in its glory. 
Warm water runs over his face as you cup your hands and rinse the shampoo out of his hair. The suds fall all around him and Kaeya continues to keep his eyes closed until you finish. You reach for another bottle now and choose to condition the ends of his hair, forcing him to sit up in the tub after placing a kiss on the back of his neck. The man internally sighs. 
Being pampered by you is something Kaeya will never take for granted. 
Tighnari 
Whenever Tighnari has to suffer the bitter fate of being separated from you, he promises his return with a gift. He likes to pick flowers that are native to the area he is exploring, flowers that match your beauty and ones that you will be sure to like. Oftentimes, he brings back pieces of nature with him but this time he decided to repurpose what he found for you. 
Locals told him of the secrets that salt possesses, if combined with the right ingredients it could be turned into a substance used while soaking. 
Tighnari knew you would love to try it. 
He placed the pebbles in a wooden box and locked it for safekeeping until giving it to you. And just like he predicted, your face lit up upon sight of it. 
“Oh, what is it?” The sweet aromatic scent grew heavier as you toyed with the tiny rocks against your fingers. 
“Salt, it’s for the bath,” Tighnari can only watch as you immediately get up and head for your bathroom. Seconds after, he hears the sound of the faucet and the sweet call of his name.
“Come on, let’s take a bath together!” It doesn’t surprise the forest ranger to see your pants discarded on the floor, all that you’re left in is one of his shirts as you impatiently wait for the tub to fill up.
“Put a little bit of the salt in there,” Tighnari reaches around you to pick up a few of the pebbles and scatter them into the water. Not a second goes by before you mimic him and do the same. His large hand guides your own to sprinkle in more until he grabs the box and closes it. Tighnari places it on your counter before removing a few layers of his own clothing. 
“I’m getting in now.” You don’t wait for him or for the water to finish rising before you get into the bathtub. The liquid sits just below your chest and you cup some of it with sincere fascination as you bring it up to your face. “It smells so good, Tighnari!”
He’s quick to join you and sits on the opposite end of the small space, making sure that you’re both facing each other. 
“You brought more of the oils too, right?” At the chance of seeing such a hopeful look on your face, how could Tighnari not? “Thank you!” His nod causes you to squeal and at the sight of the tiny bottles, you lean forward to kiss the tip of his nose. It’s a sweet action that causes his ears to relax downward, folding over at the shower of your praise. 
Tighnari only hopes his tail doesn’t create too much tension against the water as it thumps against your tub. The new feeling of your hands in his hair always makes the ranger happier than anything. He lives for your delicate touch, how your fingers comb through his hair and avoid his sensitive ears perfectly. 
Although he’ll never say it, he adores having you wash his hair. 
Xiao
“I can wash my own hair,” Xiao softly grumbles but, makes no effort to swat your hands away. He doesn’t move a single inch and continues to sit perfectly still while you continue to gently tug at his hair. 
Sometime during his travels, Xiao came across a vacant hot spring and it quickly became one of his favorite spots in Liyue. Not because he enjoys the relaxation but for the sole reason of how your face lights up every time you step in the bath. 
The chilly outside air pairs perfectly with the hot water and you make a point to sit on the stone outside of the tub to get the best of both features. 
From where he rests in the water with his arms crossed over his chest, Xiao moves each time you tilt him back to rinse the shampoo from his hair. 
“I think I’ll shampoo you twice today,” Your quiet hum makes Xiao slowly open one of his eyes as he turns to look at you. His subtle side-eye makes you laugh. “your hair is thick and I want to make sure it’s all clean.” 
All it takes is a simple peck against his cheek to get Xiao to tilt his head back and give you full reigns to his scalp. Right now, it would be a waste for the adeptus to not look at the open night sky. His dim eyes look over the stars, connecting each one while your presence calms the ongoing torture within his soul. When you’re near, not even the most powerful presence of his karmic debt could bother him. 
“Tilt,” You place your fingers under his jaw to lean his head back and rinse his hair once again. Xiao waits patiently to finish before he stands up from the hot spring and sits beside you on the stone. “wait, I’m not done yet.”
“You’re not?” Xiao watches curiously as you grab another bottle from your bag, like before, you place the substance in your hands before distributing the product along your fingers. You reach up and lather the ends of Xiao’s hair, focusing on the two long strands framing his face. After, you grab a comb. 
The assortment of toiletries you brought tonight makes Xiao want to laugh. 
“I have to condition your hair,” Your voice is soft as you concentrate on combing his hair and once you’re happy with the results, you rinse off your hands and slide back into the hot water. “now we wait.” There’s a content look on your face as you place your head in his lap and stare up at the night sky. 
Well, you would be looking at the starry sky if not for the adeptus looking over you. 
“Wait for what?” Xiao stares intently down at you as some of his conditioner falls in droplets against your face. You immediately reach up and push his head away so that he sits up straight. 
“We have to wait for the conditioner to condition before I can rinse it out.”
Xiao just softly sighs, he couldn’t understand you even if he wanted to.
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thefirststarr · 7 months
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These cosmic clouds can be found 1,300 light-years away in the constellation of Cepheus and is called the Iris Nebula (NGC 7023). This deep telescopic image shows off the Iris Nebula's range of colors and symmetries embedded in surrounding fields of interstellar dust. Within the Iris itself, dusty nebular material surrounds a hot, young star. The dominant color of the reflection nebula is blue, which is because of dust grains reflecting starlight. Central filaments of the reflection nebula glow with a faint reddish photoluminescence as some dust grains convert the star's invisible ultraviolet radiation to visible red light. Infrared observations indicate that this nebula contains complex carbon molecules known as PAHs. People tend to say that this nebula reminds them of a flower, so it’s dusty blue ‘petals’ span about six light-years.
Image Credit & Copyright: Lorand Fenyes
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