#Sweet I Love My Sister Quotes
Text
Sweet I Love My Sister Quotes
If you’re fortunate ample to have a I love my sister quotes, then you recognise what an essential bond you share. Even if you have been the sorts who fought like loopy as kids, there’s no one who receives you—or your loopy family—like your sis.
I know we tease each other all the time, but I'm serious when I tell you that my life is better with you in it.
Being your brother means being there for you. Period.
Sister, I know I tried to sell you in third grade, but I'm so glad no one was willing to pay five dollars. You're worth a lot more to me now.
Being your brother is an honor I didn't ask for, but I'm proud of it every day.
My sister has an awesome brother.
0 notes
Text
Jin Xun’an: How's the food?
Bai Qing: It's great! Send compliments to our chef.
Jin Xun’an: Okay! *goes to the kitchen*
Jin Xun’an: You have beautiful eyes.
Bai Lang, blushing: Thank you.
Bai Qing:
Bai Qing: on second thoughts, I don’t feel so hungry anymore-
#my tooth your love#mtyl#taiwan bl#xun’an: a himbo in love#lang lang: sweet shy boi#his sister: done.#very well aware that next ep is ✨family conflict✨#but if we get any found family moments#I will honestly definitely 100% go wild#bai lang x jin xun'an#ft. jiejie#mtyl incorrect quotes
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
My sister is in NY rn for a trip and she sent me this:
ID: a picture of an outdoor bulletin on a building. The top says Judson Memorial Church in all caps. The message within the bulletin says “God is queer and delights in your queerness. Be the glitter you wish to see in the world”
#Pride#God is love#thats the message ig#This is my first time using#Image description#so I’m hoping I did an ok job#Also I think it’s sweet my sister sent that to me#Quotes
1 note
·
View note
Note
"rn I feel like reading about someone's quiet daily life, maybe a diary or letters, set in a place or context I don't know much about, without turmoil or tragedy" oh! do you have any recommendations for books like this?
This is one of my favourite types of books! Here are 30(ish) recs...
May Sarton's The House by the Sea or Plant Dreaming Deep
Gyrðir Elíasson's Suðurglugginn / La fenêtre au sud (not translated into English unfortunately!), also Bergsveinn Birgisson's Landslag er aldrei asnalegt / Du temps qu'il fait (exists in German too)
Gretel Ehrlich's The Solace of Open Spaces, which iirc was originally written as journal entries and letters before being adapted into a book
Kenneth White's House of Tides: Letters from Brittany and Other Lands of the West
Sei Shonagon's Pillow Book
The Diary of a Provincial Lady, E. M. Delafield
Growing Up with the Impressionists: The Diary of Julie Manet
Elizabeth and Her German Garden by Elizabeth von Arnim (do not read if you don't like flowers)
The Road Through Miyama by Leila Philip (I've mentioned it before, it feels like this gif)
The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating, I keep recommending this one but it's so nice and I love snails
Epicurean Simplicity, Stephanie Mills
The Light in the Dark: A winter journal by Horatio Clare
The Letters of Rachel Henning
The letters of Tove Jansson, also The Summer Book and Fair Play
The diary of Sylvia Townsend Warner—here's an entry where she describes some big cats at the zoo. "Frank and forthcoming, flirtatious carnivores, [...] guttersnipishly loveable"
The Letters of Rachel Carson & Dorothy Freeman were very sweet and a little bit gay. I mostly remember from this long book I read years ago that Rachel Carson once described herself as "retiring into her shell like a periwinkle at low tide" and once apologised to Dorothy because she had run out of apple-themed stationery.
Jane Austen's letters (quoting the synopsis, "Wiser than her critics, who were disappointed that her correspondence dwelt on gossip and the minutiae of everyday living, Austen understood the importance of "Little Matters," of the emotional and material details of individual lives shared with friends and family")
Madame de Sévigné's letters because obviously, and from the same time period, the letters of the Princess Palatine, Louis XIV's sister-in-law. I read them a long time ago and mostly I remember that I enjoyed her priorities. There's a letter where she complains that she hasn't received the sausages she was promised, and then in the next paragraph, mentions the plot to assassinate the King of England and also, the Tartars are walking on Vienna currently.
Wait I found it:
R.C. Sherriff's The Fortnight in September (quoting the author, "I wanted to write about simple, uncomplicated people doing normal things")
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Betty Smith
Pond, Claire-Louise Bennett
Rules for Visiting, Jessica Francis Kane
The following aren't or aren't yet available in English, though some have already been translated in 5-6 languages:
ツバキ文具店 / La papeterie Tsubaki by ito Ogawa
半島へ / La péninsule aux 24 saisons by Mayumi Inaba
Giù la piazza non c'è nessuno, Dolores Prato (for a slightly more conceptual take on the "someone's everyday life" theme—I remember it as quite Proustian in its meticulousness, a bit like Nous les filles by Marie Rouanet which is much shorter and more lighthearted but shows the same extreme attention to childhood details)
Journal d'un homme heureux, Philippe Delerm, my favourite thing about this book is that the goodreads commenter who gave it the lowest rating complained that Delerm misidentified a wine as a grenache when actually it's a cabernet sauvignon. Important review!
Un automne à Kyôto, Corinne Atlan (I find her writing style so lovely)
oh and 西の魔女が死んだ / L’été de la sorcière by Kaho Nashiki —such a little Ghibli film of a book. There's a goodreads review that points out that Japanese slice-of-life films and books have "a certain way of describing small, everyday actions in a soothing, flawless manner that can either wear you out, or make you look at the world with a temporary glaze of calm contentment and introspective understanding [...]"
I'd be happy to get recommendations in this 'genre' as well :)
#book recs#i should have posted this ages ago but i was waiting to finish the book i was reading to see if it#should be added to the list#but in the end it wasn't worthy#sorry for the delay!
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
like bread and pastries (you make me feel soft)
scaramouche x gn!reader
prince kunikuzushi can be described as mean at best, and a tyrant at worst. it comes as no surprise when years pass after his coming of age and he still hasn’t received any marriage proposals or even had a single lover. not that he would desire any of those small minded plebeians unworthy of his hand, but you, he decides, you might just be alright in his books. or — a prince and his baker.
fluff, soft scara (kinda), prince!scara, baker!reader, royalty au, bc i love the trope where the cruel and intimidating person is soft for one person and one person only
Prince Kunikuzushi’s love life—rather, his lack of one—has always been a topic of contention between the nobles of Inazuma. Some wonder if he will ever truly marry, what with his less-than-affable personality (which was, in high society terms, a sugarcoated way of saying he was an asshole). Others speculate that his mother might try to intervene and set him up with someone of reputable background.
What they don’t know—and if anyone ever found out, he would personally silence them to keep his secret safe—is that he is seeing someone. Just not someone they’d particularly find worthy or even interesting, but Kunikuzushi would beg to differ.
“Didn’t I tell you that you’re not allowed to eat the cookies until they’re at least cool enough?”
No one, not even his own mother or younger sister, would have the audacity to speak that way to him, let alone look him in the eye unflinchingly with a threatening spatula held in the air.
You’re covered in flour, from your hair to your clothes to the smear on your cheek that has his fingers itching to wipe it off. Your back is held straight, chin up and utterly unafraid to meet his stare head on as if he isn’t the heir to the shogunate and will one day rule the very country you reside in, as if his reputation for being all too happy to order someone’s tongue cut off for any insult, imagined or not, doesn’t even register in your head.
And if it’s you, well, then you have a perfectly good reason why.
Kunikuzushi drops the cookie he’d been in the middle of taking a bite out of into the tray, letting his displeasure known by crossing his arms and turning away from your chiding stare with a frown that could almost be called petulant.
“I pay you to make cookies for me, you know,” he grumbles, but you respond by huffing in amusement.
“Your mother pays her retainers, who then pay the right people, who then pay me to bake in the kitchens for the royal family and their guests.”
He raises his brow. “Practically the same thing.”
You pinch his arm for his sass, and any other person would have been met with a backhand across the face and an immediate order to be whipped fifty times in the public city square, would have had their hand cut off for even daring to touch, let alone harm, the Crown Prince of Inazuma, but you—
You make him so disgustingly soft. Like butter left to melt in the sun, and really, that’s what you are: a sun. Dazzling and blinding and so very unattainable.
“The point is, my prince, you can afford to have a little patience every now and then,” you tell him, lowering your spatula and placing it on the table.
“I’m a very patient person.” He smiles, the kind he knows unsettles you because, and he quotes, it gives you the heeby-jeebies to see something so fake and uncharacteristically sweet on his face.
“I doubt that,” you respond, poking the cookie with a finger to check if it’s cooled enough already. With a grin, you pick one up and bring it to his mouth. “Say aah.”
He looks at you blankly. “Not even a minute ago and you were scolding me for trying to eat one.”
“I’m a changed person.” You send him a cheeky smile, gesturing to the cookie still outstretched in front of his awaiting lips. “So?”
Kunikuzushi rolls his eyes. If anyone had dared to do something so childish, something so debasing and humiliating in front of him, coercing him to do something he would have never done in his life even under sword point, he would have had their heads cut off and fed to the monsters that lurk outside the city.
But since it’s you…
Fine.
He opens his mouth, face warm at the embarrassing display, and says, “Aah.”
You laugh in delight, bringing the cookie to his lips. The taste of dough and something that faintly reminds him of vanilla bursts in his tongue. It’s soft and chewy, like bread and melted chocolate. He isn’t one for overly cloying sweets, especially not the ones his mother so favors, but the ones you make are always somehow just right for him.
Leaning close, you eye him with anticipation. “How is it?”
He chews for a few moments, gathering his thoughts before he ultimately decides that he’s been far too lax in reminding you of who he is and his reputation. “It’s passable.”
…Is he really so far gone that that is the best insult he could think of on the spot?
He could name a few adjectives that he’s prone to use on the daily. Disgusting, revolting, terrible, abhorrent, nauseating, repugnant—to name a few. But, somehow, his mouth refused to form the words, so he was left to say passable instead.
“If it’s passable, then I guess it’s not enough for your refined palate,” you feign distress, turning to the tray of cookies and making a move to grab them. “I suppose I’ll have to throw these away…”
For the second time that day, he does something he considers beneath him and rolls his eyes. “Stop the dramatics. The cookie was…” the muscles on his mouth hurt with the effort to say something not unkind, “…good.”
You beam, all crinkled eyes and lovely upturned lips. It makes his heart palpitate, probably because of how adorable abhorrent he finds the sight. “Hehe, I knew you’d like it.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he tells you, lest you suddenly think he actually likes you, never mind the fact that he was the one who hounded your attention and made the first move to kiss you all those months ago.
“Whatever you say,” you sing-song, leaning on the counter beside him and getting flour on his immaculate robes when your arm brushes up against his. “But I was wondering why you came to visit me today. You told me yesterday that you had pressing matters to attend to.”
Ah, right. The reason for his sudden appearance in Tenshukaku’s kitchens. The conversation with his mother yesterday repeats in his head.
“My mother wants me to find someone to marry as soon as possible.” Kunikuzushi looks at you, eyes wide and expectant.
Your eyes suddenly dim, looking down at your feet in an uncharacteristic show of hesitance. “Oh. Then… I wish you and whoever you choose as your spouse the best of wishes.”
A muscle in his brows twitch. He can’t believe you didn’t get the hint. Are you truly going to make him say it?
Something distinctly uncomfortable tugs at his chest when he sees you fiddling with your fingers.
Tch. Fine.
“It’s you,” idiot, he wants to add, but his tongue seems to have a mind of its own. “I came here to tell you that you’re going to marry me.”
Your head snaps up, face a mixture of shock and hesitant hope. But then you grimace, “But you’re the prince, and I’m…”
He scoffs. “So? Once we’re married, any insult directed toward you is an insult to me as well. I’ll have them killed—if you want.” The last part is added only because he saw you go pale at the mention of killing people.
“Right, but…” you trail off, tilting your head to him and narrowing your eyes. There it is, that audacious spark that captured his attention from the beginning. “You’re supposed to ask me to marry you, not order me around.”
His face pinches.
“Well, my prince? Are you gonna ask me or not?” you tease.
The sheer nerve at your audacious request. If you were one of the mindless nobles that scurry about his mother’s court, he would have you whipped. Insolent, impertinent, brazen, and a mischievous smile that has him so utterly—
Whipped.
He clicks his tongue, crossing his arms and feeling his cheeks redden. His eyes meet yours unflinchingly despite the erratic beating of his heart.
“Will you marry me?”
One month and many arguments and severed tongues later, the Crown Prince Kunikuzushi is wed to you.
And if Yae Miko uses that opportunity to write a light novel fanfiction about the prince and his baker, well, she responds to Kunikuzushi’s angry letter with a signed copy of the book’s first edition and a note about how much the people loved it and how his reputation has skyrocketed because of it.
#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#scaramouche x reader#kunikuzushi x reader#kabukimono x reader#wanderer x reader#gn reader
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
y’all i got dress rehearsal tonight, please wish me luck
#i have three quick changes in a twenty minute ballet#on the plus side#tonight is dress for the children’s show#so i get to be cool and old#and i love it#the littlest kids are endlessly sweet and also hilarious#maybe i’ll post some of their quotes later#and the older girls are like my younger sisters#slash best friends#i love those girls to death#i’m more nervous about tomorrow but that’s another story
1 note
·
View note
Note
Could i request for a Conrad fisher X reader where reader has a younger sibling who gives her a hard time and her parents favour her younger sibling more. It's the reader's bday on the same day as belly's and her family doesn't get her anything and they don't bother with an excuse either and say they don't really care abt her so it doesn't matter. So Conrad comforts her later and if u don't mind u could include some smut at the end?
(this is my situation rn lololol but without Conrad to comfort me😭)
matilda - c.f
summary: request
conrad fisher x reader
a/n: i’m so sorry love, sorry this is a few days late but you are so loved and appreciated no matter what, hope this makes you happy today <3
it’s been a recurring theme for most of y/n’s life. the overheard quotes about the older sibling had eventually become a reality. they didn’t even wait for y/n to try and live up to them. instead, they just accepted that their daughter wasn’t as good as the rest of their children.
as upsetting as it is, kids experience it too much. y/n experiences it every day, so when she realized it wasn’t normal, that’s when it started to hurt more every year.
this day was supposed to be different. she was so excited, turning 18 and finally being an adult. free of her parents if she wanted to be. she thought that maybe, just maybe, her parents would think of her for a day, and make it about it. alas, the second she woke up and walked into the kitchen, y/n’s hopes were shut down.
“y/n, can you take y/b/n to practice? i’m going out with sharon today,” her mom said, barely even looking at her.
“uh, i’m leaving in a bit, remember?” she speaks, trying to sound as polite as possible. “the fishers invited me over for today.”
“hon, we get it,” her dad talks next, peering up over his glasses and newspaper of the town. “but, to some point, it’s just another day. just do what your mother asked.”
y/n looks at her little siblings at the table, messing around and receiving no repercussions. she still remembers when that was her. playing with her parents, happier than she ever was again. she loves her siblings to death, but she loves herself, too. y/n deserves more than she’s been given, so she confides. she drives her brother to whatever practice, wishing him luck as he whispers a happy birthday, then jumping out of the car to see his friends.
she’s already dressed up for the party for belly. the fishers had welcomed her with open arms, even having decorations and sweets for her on the table. everyone figured she’d have something going on at home, but oh, they were so wrong. she didn’t receive a single birthday message from the people who gave her life, so did it matter? even if she didn’t believe it, at least the fishers knew she was worth it. she was dressed in one of her best outfits, a simple dress with small flowers printed over. she had small wedges and her hair was done neatly. she felt pretty, she is pretty.
she walked into the house, belly hearing the door open first. she skips toward, engulfing y/n in a huge hug. “y/n!” she squeals. “happy birthday!”
“oh, belly! happy birthday to you, you look so cute!”
“are you kidding? your man’s gonna go wild when he sees you!” she whispers, making y/n blush toward the end.
“belly, stop!” she nudges. “he’s not my man… yet.”
they giggle together before moving back into the kitchen where y/n greets susannah and laurel, along with the rest of the boys. conrad stands up first, in a heartbeat. he walks over, almost lifting y/n off the ground in a hug.
“hey! happy birthday!” he tells her, excitedly as he pulls away. jeremiah comes piling in next, saying his words to the person he considers a sister.
“didn’t y/m/n have anything planned?” susannah asked from the pure kindness in her heart.
“oh,” y/n mutters. “we, uh, we did something yesterday.”
conrad can tell when y/n lies. he can read her like a book at this point. he’s spent so long fanboying over her that he knows what she’s feeling. when she’s sad, excited, pissed, he knows. it pulls at his heart when he can sense the disappointment in her voice. he starts to get more alarmed with every drink she takes throughout the day. she’s not even a big drinker, never really taking an offer. now he’s positive somethings wrong.
if y/n’s parents didn’t care about her, they don’t care if she drinks, right? she’s with her friends, she’s allowed to. plus. it’ll take the edge off of the internal wounds her parents have left her with. her feelings on the whole matter start to disintegrate for a while, until belly’s cake comes out and is handed to her. it’s so nicely done, perfect detail and so much love. they put time into her cake and party, and y/n can’t help the jealousy rising up. she vividly remembers every one of her younger siblings birthdays. all of them having their friends and a party, while y/n was just locked in her room on her birthday. the presents and the cheesy grins from everyone were overwhelming every year. she couldn’t help but think about what it could be like with her real family. maybe they could love her as much as she deserves, but in reality, they won’t. they can, but they chose not to, which hurts even more.
y/n stumbles around on the balcony, around people while carefully savoring every last drop of whatever is in her can. she’s probably had too many, but she doesn’t care. it’s almost like it’s reversed itself now. she watches belly open all of her presents and receive hugs and kisses, and the lump in her throat becomes thicker. she thinks of the alcohol as her enemy now, just bringing back the thoughts in her sober mind.
it’s not until everyone hears the clicking of y/n’s heels on the pavement that they notice her walking away. her hand is swiping away the loose tears and everyone looks at conrad. if there’s anyone y/n wants to see, it’s him. they’ve been in love for so long, it’s almost painful to watch. as she walks away, blurry vision from the alcohol and the tears, she tries to grab another can from the box before a hand stops her.
“i don’t think that’s a good idea,” conrad says, gently taking it out of her hand and landing it back in the box.
“oh, great. more fuckin’ judgment,” she retorts, making conrad’s face contort.
“hey, what’s going on? you’ve been off all day.”
“i am, perfectly fine,” y/n slurs. conrad places a hand on her shoulder, and takes them to sit on the steps. his arm is wrapped around her, the other one gripping her hand.
“i know you’re not. it’s ok to not be ok,” he looks at her nose scrunch and her cheeks turn red again. “hey, hey, don’t cry, you’re alright.”
“no,” she weeps out, putting her head in her hands. “i’m a mess! i don’t know what to do, i cant make it any better and i’ve been trying for 14 fucking years!”
“hold on,” he keeps his voice low. “what do you mean?”
“my parents don’t give a shit. they haven’t since y/b/n was born and they didn’t even bother about me anymore,” conrad pulls her into his arms, leaning back as her teardrops soak into his shirt. “i didn’t do anything for this, and belly’s being loved unconditionally without having to fight for it. and i feel like a bitch getting upset over it but-“
“absolutely not. don’t say that ever again. you don’t deserve anything they’re giving you. anything they’ve said to you is a fucking lie. i know who you are. you’re the most perfect, beautiful person i’ve ever met, inside and out. you don’t have to prove anything to them, because they don’t deserve your amazingness,” he speaks to her. it’s nothing but the truth, and nothing he would ever hesitate to say. “and i will spend forever trying to prove to you that you’re nothing but beautiful a beautiful person.”
y/n looks up at him, only bursting into more tears as he laughs a bit. “oh, my god, conrad. i love you, so much. i know i’m drunk but i mean it more than anything.” she’s felt nothing like she does now. she’s never had someone accept her so quickly and with so much appreciation. she feels like she can do nothing but cry and just love on him.
“i’m glad,” he begins again. “because i love you, too. no matter what your parents say or do. they don’t define you.”
and in this moment, for the first time in a long time, y/n knows someone loves her. and he’s not just saying it for comfort. she doesn’t need her parents to be loved. if they can’t do that, there will forever be someone out there who loves her just as much. she knows she’s enough, and that’s enough.
#the summer i turned pretty#the summer i turned pretty fic#conrad fisher fic#conrad fisher smut#conrad fisher x reader#conrad fisher fluff#tsitp conrad#conrad fisher#conrad fisher angst#belly x conrad#conrad x reader#conrad fisher oneshot#jeremiah fisher#belly conklin#tsitp#tsitp fanfic#susannah fisher#laurel conklin#steven conklin#conrad fisher fanfic#conrad fisher x you#conrad fisher x y/n#team jeremiah#team conrad#conrad x belly#jeremiah x belly#jeremiah fisher x reader#tsitp jeremiah#tsitp belly#tsitpedit
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔.
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Reader
The death of Daemon Targaryen never had hurt you more than it should.
Inspired by Ophelia from Hamlet. The end quote is from Song of Achilles.
fanfiction | House of the Dragon
"Daemon, where are you going?" You inquire as you watches him readying to soar on dragonback with Dark Sister. Your gaze lifted to meet his, worry etched upon your visage as you observed your beloved. The war still raged, his life at stake.
Daemon turned to face you, unable to utter the truth, he imparted to you a falsehood. "Fret not for me, my love," he reassured, yet noting that your furrowed brow betrayed your unease.
He descended from his dragon, alighting before you on the earth. He clasped your hands firmly in his, bestowing a tender kiss upon them.
Your eyes locked with his. "Where are you going?" You softly inquire once more, voice quivering akin to your heart that throbbed and ached with dread. "You cannot go." It was your intuition that whispered so.
Nevertheless, Daemon sought to reassure you. "I shall return." The prince enfolded you in a kiss, pressing his lips fervently against yours, yearning to cherish the moment with you one last time.
As the kiss parted, he stroked your cheeks, brushing away the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. "Keep this ring," he murmured, placing the silver ring in your palm.
A look of confusion crossed your visage as you gazed at him.
"Know that you are half of my soul," he whispered to you, and you were a fool to let him depart from your side.
You observed as he ascended Caraxes. The sense of foreboding only intensified as he and Caraxes soared into the heavens, perhaps never to return to you.
When he leapt towards Aemond with Dark Sister, you pondered what thoughts consumed him, his allegiance to Rhaenyra or his love for you?
As his blade pierced through the boy like butter, its edge piercing his remaining eye, was he reminiscing about you?
Did remorse grip him for leaving you bereft and alone?
Every morning you awoke to an empty bed, solitude enveloping you. The news of his demise shook you to the core, unable to contain your tumult of emotions, you wept bitterly.
Days passed, the war for the throne persisted. And you battled against the war of grief and madness threatening to engulf you completely. His remnants provided solace, soothing your tears and calming the sobs that escaped.
Rhaenyra and the others watches as you gradually descended into madness.
You sank to the ground, faltering with each step, observing as the water tenderly kissed the earth, forming a gentle ripple. The God's Eye was where your beloved had met his end with the young prince Aemond.
You prayed for Aemond, envisioning the suffering he must have endured.
Tears streamed down your face as you knelt by the water's edge, feeling the anguish in your heart. How could he forsake you so? He vowed to stay by your side, to live, to love you eternally.
You clutched the ring he had bestowed upon you not long ago.
"I shall return," he pledged as he placed the ring in your hand. The silver caressed your skin. Then he bestowed upon you a kiss, one of fervor and hunger. You could faintly feel his lips against yours, so sweet and intoxicating. He departed with his sword and his dragon as you watched from below, witnessing him slowly recede from your life.
Now you wished you had halted him.
Regardless of the throne's fate, regardless of victory or defeat, you stood resolute. The water beckoned to you, like a siren luring sailors. You dipped your feet into the water, smiling as though sensing his touch against your skin.
Similar to Queen Helaena and Daemon, you submerged into the water. Even as it embraced you tighter and deeper, pulling you further down, you only closed your eyes, gazing at the darkening and blurring sky. You tightened your grip on the ring in your hand. Not it, you could not lose it, not even in death.
Death welcomed you like an old friend, with open arms. You accepted your destiny.
In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.
#hotd daemon#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon x reader#daemon targaryen#daemon x reader angst#house of the dragon
169 notes
·
View notes
Text
THE ONLY MEMORY IS US KISSING IN THE MOONLIGHT
Pairing: Mary Earps x reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Summary: All of your memories are lost after a concussion... All but one.
A/N: First, it was meant to be a one-shot but, it turned out to be a bit too long for my liking so, in the next few days I should be able to post the second part if you want it. Despite studying to be a nurse, I have no idea how a concussion works, so, don't quote me on anything. Also, I used to play football like a hundred years ago, so, again, don't quote me on anything. I hoped to post this on Valentine's Day, but life happened, and I ended up driving my sister to get a few things, which set me back a lot. I hope you like it and I'm open to reading your feedback and your ideas if you want. I did not proofread it so, if you see a misspelled word or something... no you didn't.
Warnings: Mention of injuries mostly.
Word count: 1.4k+
[You do not have permission to repost or translate any of my stories or claim them as yours]
Part one
Manchester United vs. Manchester City
It was Derby match day, and as such, you were all nervous about it. Everyone was very determined to get another win for the team. But there was no one more determined than your fiance. Mary tended to take it very hard whenever someone got the ball past her, especially on a Derby match, and you more than anyone knew how much it affected her, having witnessed Mary's dedication and passion for the game countless times before. Her commitment to the team was unwavering, and she always gave it her all on the field. The pressure of this match only fueled her determination further, making her even more focused on stopping every shot that came her way. It was also the reason you were so committed to ensuring she could, hopefully, maintain a clean sheet.
Traveling to the stadium proceeded as usual. Before heading outside to do the field inspection, you went to the changing rooms and put away your gear. Following one of your pre-match traditions, you went hand in hand, talking about some ideas and your hopes while also giving each other sweet, supportive words.
After you were done with the inspection, everyone headed toward the changing room to start getting ready to go out for the warm-up. "Baby…" Mary came to sit next to you in your cubby, holding the physio tape out for you to take. Another one of your traditions was for you to tape her fingers before every game. You kissed each of her fingers as you taped it, taking care to get it exactly how she wanted it. "All done, baby." You leaned in to kiss her cheek before she moved to tie your boots. When you first made it a tradition, your teammates made sure to tease you relentlessly about it, but after time passed, they realized how important it was for both of you and decided to just silently admire the dedication and love each of you put into the task.
It felt like you blinked when you suddenly had to get out to the tunnel to make your entrance, but not before sharing a sweet kiss with your soon-to-be wife.
The next hour passed like a blur. Each team left it all out on the field in the first half, both being very physical about their game. By this point, the goalkeepers were the only players who had not been taken down by another player. Leaving the first time 0–0 didn't help either to calm their playing strategies.
Halftime goes as expected. The pressure of the derby weighs heavily on everyone, especially on the defensive line and Mary, since the opposite team managed to break it a few times, creating dangerous opportunities that your girlfriend was successfully able to save.
Going to the second leg of the game, you were even more determined to help Mary get a clean sheet, so when the other team got a corner kick, you were inside the penalty box to make sure that the ball didn't get past the blond's hands.
Your heart was racing while you waited for the city player to take the corner, fighting to maintain the mark on your player. All that was on your mind was keeping that ball away from the danger zone, so when the ball was finally in the air, you, along with the other players, jumped to head the ball.
That is the last thing you get to see, as your head not only collides with the other footballer's head, but since you were near the post, your head ended up hitting it too. Mary got a hold of the ball, but before she could send it far, she noticed your unmoving body. Ella, who was near you, leaned down to make sure you were okay, but if the blood on your forehead wasn't enough to scare her, your lack of response was.
The medics are rushed to the playground, worried that head injuries can become bad really fast. Mary is stuck in place, not able to do anything more than call out for you in hopes that you open your eyes.
"Baby, please just open your eyes." A nudge from Zelem takes her out of her shock, finally making her way toward you.
"We need to take her to the hospital; she's not waking up." One of the physios said as they called in the paramedics on standby at each game.
"I need to go with her," Mary said to her captain. "Go, I'll talk to the coach." With a pat on the goalkeeper's shoulder, she sent her on her way. "Let me know what happens!"
—
Mary is left in the waiting area, concerned about your condition, while you are hurried into the hospital for some scans to determine the extent of the injuries. She understands that injuries are inevitable in such a physically demanding sport, but it breaks her heart to watch the person she loves so much lying on the ground, unable to open her eyes. The blonde was struggling mightily with her tears, trying not to think of the worst-case scenario because she knew it would not help.
The remainder of the squad started to move toward the waiting room an hour later. Even though Mary wasn't crying just yet, her expression made it obvious that she was frightened about your condition, and they were all rather concerned about it.
They didn't have to wait much longer for a status report. The doctor appears through the door of the waiting room. "Y/n Y/l/n's family?"
Mary shot up from her seat. "Yes, I'm her fiance."
"I have some news; there are no signs of intracranial bleeding, which was our main concern, but she does have a pretty serious concussion, so I must warn you. She may present some loss of memory, but it will be temporary, and there is no way of knowing how much time it will take for her to recover it or how much of it she'll lose if she does at all."
"So, she's going to be okay, right?" Mary said, her voice filled with concern.
"Yes, she will need to rest a lot and take it easy for a while, but she's going to be okay." Everyone could feel the tension leave their shoulders. "Would you like to see her?"
"Yes, please." The doctor was quick to direct the blonde to your room. Mary wanted to cry at the sight of you, so small on the hospital bed and with a big bandage on your head.
"Remember that she might not know who you are just yet; just be gentle with her." The keeper could only nod to the doctor. "I'll leave you with her; if you need anything, just press the button on the side of her bed."
Mary walked next to you and held your hand in one of hers; with the other, she very gently caressed your cheek, not wanting to disturb you in any way. She was scared out of her mind. You were about to get married; you were supposed to enjoy this chapter of your life, and now you might not even remember who she was.
The first few hours were the easiest for her. The more time that passed, the more she worried. What was taking so long? The doctor had said that you would be okay; it was just a concussion.
Your teammates had tried in vain to lift her spirits, but at least they'd succeeded in getting the blonde to change out of her still-fitting team kit and take a shower.
The shower, the strong emotions of the day, and the game you had played tired her out. She fell asleep with her head resting next to your body on the bed while holding your hand for dear life.
—
Your eyelids flickered open and then shut again as soon as you noticed the room's brightness; this made the pounding sensation in your head worse. You tried moving your hand to cover your face when you felt a weight on top of it. The movement stirred Mary up, who took a second to understand what was happening.
"Baby, you're awake," Mary whispered with a mixture of relief and concern in her voice. She gently moved her head from your body and sat up, allowing you to adjust to the light. "How are you feeling?" she asked, her eyes filled with worry.
"Who are you?"
To be continued…
#Mary Earps#mary earps imagine#mary earps x reader#Manchester united wfc#mary earps x reader fluff#woso fanfic#reader insert#woso imagine#engwnt#woso fanfics
281 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stone Mother
Spoilers for Bryce, Nesta, and Azriel’s bonus chapter below (yes, I read it; I couldn’t help myself). Don’t proceed if you don’t want any spoilers connected to hofas.
“Stone Mother” began playing, its rolling, thumping drums offsetting the wild, yet mellow, guitars. And then Josie’s voice filled the tunnel, sharp yet soaring, accented by Laurel’s sweet, clear backups. The sound was foreign, earthy—haunting. […] The wraith-like harmonies echoed off the stones, until the rock sounded as if it was singing. (Bryce, Nesta, and Azriel bonus)
-
But the music seemed to linger, like a ghostly echo through the caves.
And with each mile onward, she could hear Azriel humming softly to himself. The rolling, wild melody of “Stone Mother” flowed off his lips, and she could have sworn even the shadows danced at the sound. (Bryce, Nesta, and Azriel bonus)
Sarah felt it was important to describe Stone Mother in detail—wild and mellow and earthy. Haunting. Wraith-like. Ghostly.
My first thought (as you might expect) was of the divine trio: Mother, Cauldron, Fate.
“Three stones for the faces of the Mother,” Amren said upon seeing Nesta’s raised brows. “Four bones…for whatever reason the charlatans came up with that I can’t be bothered to remember.” (acowar)
I love how witchy this quote is about scrying, as it specifically refers to the three faces of the Mother (like a Three-Faced Goddess). It especially reminds me of the sister peaks and the Cauldron, which is a mother encased in stone.
The wild, mellow, earthy song flows off of Azriel’s lips long after he hears it. Wild, mellow, earthy. Now, let’s pretend to ignore the fact that Azriel listens very carefully to Nesta’s description of how she dealt with becoming Fae (why would that be, truly? who else would be dealing with that?). Who do those words remind you of?
Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess—perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there. Why she hadn’t just thrown it in a drawer. (acosf)
Elain’s solid, dark wooden rose is next to a figurine of the Mother. Something wild, mellow, earthy—just like the third sister herself, a gentle gardener.
And the harmonies? They’re wraith-like. Just like Elain’s friends…
“Half,” Amren said, surveying my turquoise, cobalt, and white clothes. “Wraiths are nothing but shadow and mist, able to walk through walls, stone—you name it. I don’t even want to know how those two were conceived. High Fae will stick their cocks anywhere.”
I choked on what could have been a laugh or a cough. “They make good spies.”
“Why do you think they’re now whispering in Azriel’s ear that I’m in here?”
“I thought they answered to Rhys.”
“They answer to both, but they were trained by Azriel first.” (acomaf)
…who act a bit ghostly, walking through stone like shadows on the daily. If Elain is connected to that lovely darkness we see roaming around, she might bring us even closer to the Cauldron Stone Mother in the next book. Commands be damned.
#hofas spoilers#hofas#bryce azriel nesta bonus#stone mother#mother cauldron fate#elain archeron#nuala and cerridwen#lovely darkness#this is hinting how the crossover impacts acotar#elriel
193 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jason webweave - (sources under read more)
yippee i have attempted a webweave. this was very fun. i used to make character aesthetics and moodboards and tbh i might get back into it with this.
SOURCES -
Part 1: [The Last Olympian quote] - [Jason Background] - [Up The Wolves - The Mountain Goats] - [Terry Pratchett] - [Youth - Daughter] - [The Lost Hero chapter formatting] - [Andrei Tarkovsky, Journal 1970-1986] - [The Lost Hero cover - John Rocco] - [Coins of Lupa] - ["Singing someone's praises whilst destroying them" quote] - [Yosemite Background - James Lange] - [Jason overlay] - [Always Gold - Radical Face] - [Hollow quote] - [Sweet Hibiscus Tea - Penelope Scott]
Part 2: [SPQR banner] - [Jason nails a bough to the prow of the argo - William Russell Flint] - [The Lost Hero quotes] - [Knight And Dog quote] - [Jason overlay] - [Wolf overlay] - [IMHSBALIDWD - Waterparks] - [Herd dog quote] - [SCA Roman fighting] - [Coins of Lupa] - [Mimi's Delivery Service - Good Kid] - [Take Me To War - The Crane Wives]
Part 3: [The Lost Hero quotes] - [Lab Animal quotes] - [Cuckoo 1] - [Wolf in shipping container] - [Storm background] - [Jason (mythos)] - [Cuckoo quotes] - [Coins of Lupa] - [Wolves biting] - [Cuckoo 2] - [Wolf background] - [Jason overlay] - [Where You Are - Disney's Moana]
Part 4: [Jason background] - [Wolf Children (2012)] - [Lupa] - [Going Postal At The Party - James Marriott] - [You Are Here - James Marriott] - [Your Sister Was Right - Wilbur Soot] - ["What's your wingspan?"] - [Canary in a Coal Mine - The Crane Wives] - ["Everything I love belongs in my mouth, everything I hate belongs in between my teeth"] - [Car Lights - James Marriott] - [Forget-me-nots] - [Coins of Lupa] - [Two gray wolves] - ["I can't remember / I can't forget"] - ["I am very young and learning how to live"]
#pjo#riordanverse#jason grace#webweave#my art#i was very particular in only using my own jason fanart#i dont like to make edits with other people's fanart especially if i have my own#what other characters (or duos or etc) should i make webweaves for [thinking emoji]#also a lot of this is very particularly how i write jason specifically#so i guess here is a window into my jason characterization#a lot of the songs are from my playlists for him
257 notes
·
View notes
Text
Anyone who thinks that Rhaenyra calling Helaena "my sweet sister" means anything positive about their relationship or about Rhaenyra's feelings for Heleana needs to go back and re-read the main series (or read it period, because trust me you will understand F&B a lot better with ASOIAF as context).
In ASOIAF "sweet sister" is that phrase is used disparagingly the vast majority of the time. A quick search reveals it is used 82 times, and the character who uses this phrase by far the most is Tyrion when speaking about Cersei (an example from ASOS Tyrion I):
There are also multiple examples of Jaime using it about Cersei too, especially when he's unhappy with her (a random example from AFFC Jaime V):
Other people also use it referring to Cersei, again sarcastically. "Your sweet sister did X." Which makes sense! Cersei is pretty notorious and people gripe about her to her brothers pretty often.
Beyond various people talking about Cersei, the top offender is Viserys, who uses it quite a bit when addressing Dany, usually with a bite of malice (AGOT Daenerys I):
Interestingly, Viserys later calls out to his "sweet sister" when he is begging for his life. I can't imagine that reminding her of all the times he threatened her with those same words helped his case very much.
There's one instance of Arya using it about Sansa when she is giving an insincere apology (AGOT Sansa III):
Here is Theon using it about Asha (ACOK Theon V):
Lysa also uses it about Cat, and her feelings about her "sweet sister" at this point are pretty negative (ASOS Sansa VII):
You get the picture. At the very best, it's used with a fond sort of sarcasm, at worst it's actively spiteful. You can count on one hand the number of times it is used sincerely in the whole entire series, and really there's only one instance, from Edmure to Cat, that I would read as 100% sincere without even a tiny hint of sarcasm.
F&B doesn't have anyone's POV to indicate the tone with which Rhaenyra said those words, and although it's possible this might have been the second time in the whole of ASOIAF that we were meant to treat those words as unquestioningly sincere and loving, I think this is a bit like the discourse around "sharply questioned." Those words, in-world, tend to carry a connotation beyond their surface meaning. It would not be something reassuring to hear terms for surrender given using the phrase "sweet sister," and in fact, given that we have no other indication that Rhaenyra has any sort of relationship with her siblings whatsoever, Helaena would be entirely justified in interpreting her words as spiteful or sarcastic. After all, if you're using a quote from the book to speak to Rhaenyra's intentions, the character you're referring to is book!Rhaenyra, who is not shown to be an overly nice person. Even by the most charitable reading, we can safely assume that those words were included by Gyldayn in his history knowing that in-world readers would read them as insincere. They are not intended to portray Rhaenyra and Helaena's relationship in a positive light.
160 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cinderella AU
Pairing: Sebastian Stan x f!Reader
Summary: The classic Cinderella AU. It's heavily inspired by the Disney live-action remake, but with a few tweaks here and there.
Word Count: 8k, oops..?
Warnings: None, except for extra cute Prince Sebastian.
A/N: It’s my first time writing for Seb at this length & I'm kind of proud of how it turned out. Oh, and I gave Sebastian the nickname 'Bash'. Hope you love it as much as I do!<3
Once upon a time, or however the story begins, there lived a girl named Y/N. She was the most beautiful thing in her parents’ eyes and held the kindest heart. They lived happily in a secluded small mansion. They weren’t the richest per se, but they could keep up with the house and even had a few workers in the kitchen and garden.
As time went by, the girl discovered a passion for music and playing the piano. Her sweet melodies often graced the halls of the house, and whenever she wasn’t behind the piano, she had her face buried deep in a journal, writing down every last thought that had occurred to her that day.
Alas, the time that had passed had also come bearing sombre news. The little girl’s mother had fallen ill with a disease so rare, there was nothing left to do but wait. Those three months spent waiting were the hardest for the girl, as she was always staying beside her mother’s bed, reading to her, brushing her hair, and playing lovely tunes on the piano to soothe her mother’s mind.
It wasn’t until one night, that the clock in the writing room, which her mother so deeply loved, stopped working and the house suddenly grew more quiet.
Years passed, and Y/N grew even more beautiful. She was always happy and kind, helping out everyone around the house and being there for her father. Y/N’s father was a merchant, so it was not uncommon that he had many trips abroad and many foreign friends. He had a certain way with him, his friends even called him a man of many words. He always found a way to insert an inspirational quote into whatever conversation was going on. His personal favourite, however, was a quote about courage.
Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen.
“Darling, would you accompany me to the garden?” Her father asked her. Of course, she followed him with a smile on her face. He began to tell her of a widowed woman, with two daughters just a few years older than Y/N. He explained that he’d known the woman's late husband, having met him many times on his travels.
“They need a place to stay and they need a sense of security,” he began shyly, before continuing. “I think I can offer them that, I think we can offer them that.”
Y/N smiled as she took her father's hands in hers. “Father, if it’s something that would make you happy, it would make me even happier.” He smiled at her and pulled her into a hug.
Madam Deveraux was a widowed noblewoman with two daughters, Arabella and Isadora. The Madam herself was mostly reserved and you could never tell what she was thinking just by looking at her. Her gaze always remained strong, even when the death of her dear husband crushed her spirit. As months passed after the tragic death, the demeanour of Madam Deveraux changed. Once just a composed and modest lady, was now hardened at heart, with only one true goal. To see her two daughters succeed and be wed off to rich husbands, no matter the cost.
Arabella, the eldest daughter was certainly pretty on the eyes, however, she had a mouth to her that diminished her beauty to a certain degree. Never afraid to speak her mind and even once in a while throw in a more vulgar term here or there. She was fascinated with all kinds of different adult romance books - that’s where she probably learned those indecent phrases. She also loved to draw, but truth be told, she wasn’t really any good at it.
Isadora, like her sister, was also beautiful in her own way. She certainly wasn’t as crude as her sister, but still had a peculiar sense of self. Her ego was probably the biggest between the three of them. Every reflective surface she saw made her gaze at herself longingly, always fixing her hair or makeup. Always whispering sweet affirmations to herself. She knew she was the prettiest person, whenever she walked into a crowded room. Even if the snobby personality sometimes made her mother’s eyes roll.
After a few weeks, it was time again for Y/N’s father to take his leave. Y/N felt crushed, and a sense of dread filled her heart, making her father promise that he’d return.
Unfortunately, on his travels back from overseas, Y/N’s father fell ill and was never able to return to her. It saddened her deeply, but due to her chores, given to her by her step-mother, she didn’t have time to dwell on her grief.
Months passed, with her chores growing bigger and bigger. She had given up her bedroom because Arabella and Isadora were too cramped up in their own smaller one. Unfortunately for Y/N, instead of getting the smaller room for herself, she had to stay in a storage room right next to the kitchen. It wasn’t the most tedious place to be, for someone somewhere must’ve had to have even worse living conditions. That thought kept her appreciating her commodities and trying to tidy up the tiny storage room as best as she could.
“Y/N, could you be a dear and help your sisters with their dresses?” Madam Deveraux’s cold voice could be heard from upstairs, as Y/N was just finishing up setting the table in the kitchen. Sighing, but still with a smile on her face, the girl walked upstairs to assist her step-sisters. Arabella was tugging Isadora’s corset, to make it more tight, as Isadora was standing near the mirror letting out gasps of air.
“A little bit of help, please?” Isadora asked in her saccharine voice, looking at Y/N through her mirror. Y/N nodded and took over from Arabella, pulling and pulling until the corset was perfectly on Isadora’s body.
“Hmm, I look good, don’t you think so?” Isadora spun around, now in her huge pink sparkling dress, which did not do her beauty any justice. Y/N, however, was not one to judge. She just smiled lightly and nodded.
“Pfft, as if you had any sense of style,” Isadora went to grab her rings, before putting them on her dainty fingers. Her brown hair was curled in an updo and she had put on a plethora of perfume, that was way too sweet, but ironically, fit her perfectly.
“Hah, you’re right sissy, this wench does not know anything about fashion. I mean look at how she’s dressed right now.” Arabella looked at Y/N from head to toe, her face grimacing. Y/N lowered her head to look at her grey dress. Yes, it wasn’t as fancy as the gowns on her step-sisters, but it had belonged to her mother. The grey dress made her feel some kind of sanity, running around doing chores for the Deverauxs’. Picking invisible lint from the pocket of her skirt, the step-sisters just laughed at how humiliated Y/N looked.
“Yes, you do look absolutely atrocious as of late,” Isadora smirked as Arabella grinned, taking joy in embarrassing Y/N. “You’re just plain ugly,” the eldest sister managed to get out before laughing.
“Here, take this, go buy yourself something prettier,” Isadora scoffed as she handed Y/N three silver pieces. You could not get anything fairly pretty with that kind of sum. Y/N had given up on pretty dresses a while ago, being content with the ones her mother had left her. She shook her head at the silver coins, not accepting the pity donation.
“Fine have it your way, I was just trying to be nice,” Isadora threw the silver pieces on the floor as Arabella snorted in an unladylike manner. “Now leave, as I remember correctly Mama wanted you to go down to the forest to pick up some flowers for the gathering tonight.”
Y/N nodded to the girls, before hastily leaving the room, blinking back tears. She had grown accustomed to their derogatory comments, but that didn’t mean a part of her always ached at their remarks. Never had she been anything, but good and friendly towards the girls and their mother. She shook her head, as if to shake it clear from the depressing thoughts and picked up a dark-brown wooden basket from the kitchen table.
The walk from the house to the forest was always Y/N’s favourite. As soon as the house with the hectic people inside of it disappeared from her field of view, a certain kind of calmness filled Y/N. It was as if she could finally breathe without restrictions. Even the world around her seemed a little bit more saturated. Birds were flying around, singing their beautiful songs; it was spring after all. Y/N started to hum a melody she used to love to play the most on her piano.
Y/N twirled around and smiled, suddenly feeling joyous and elated. She closed her eyes, still twirling, liking the feel of the afternoon sun on her face. A total bliss. Suddenly, when taking her last twirl, she felt her foot get stuck on a tree root and braced herself for a fall.
However, the fall did not come.
Instead, strong hands had grasped her waist, holding her a few centimetres off the ground. Y/N finally opened her eyes, the sun making her squint a little before finally her vision was back in focus. She was looking into blue eyes. Into the most gorgeous blue eyes she’d ever seen. Serene, deep blue eyes, that she could get lost in. That she did get lost in.
“Miss, are you alright?” Y/N blinked, before realising the man was still holding her. She stumbled to get out of his grasp, before wiping her dress from invisible dirt. Her cheeks flushed pink, suddenly feeling embarrassed.
“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you..?” Y/N said, waiting for the person’s name to finish her sentence. To thank him personally. She now had time to look at the man that had so gracefully caught her. He had brown medium-length hair, which seemed abnormally soft and Y/N wished she could tread her fingers through it. The man smiled, no grinned rather, and Y/N was taken aback by how handsome this stranger looked.
“You really don’t know who I am?” The man chuckled and Y/N shook her head quizzically. Was she supposed to know him? She browsed through her brain, wondering who this man could be; maybe she’d met him before. But no, she’d remember him. She could never forget those eyes.
Y/N saw a peculiar look in his gaze before his grin grew even bigger and he introduced himself. “My name’s Bash,” he said, and Y/N furrowed her brows, but smiling nonetheless.
“That’s a peculiar name,” she spoke, before realising her comment was nowhere near acceptable nor did it come off as friendly. The man, Bash, as she’d learned, let out a genuine laugh at the comment. Y/N felt embarrassed and was about to apologise before he stopped her.
“I like your candour,” he smirked. “It’s actually a nickname. A name that my father calls me whenever I haven’t done anything to upset him.” Y/N smiled, no longer feeling embarrassed, but just a little bit of something else. A strange warm feeling was creeping up in her chest.
“Well, thank you, Bash, for catching me. And I’m sorry you even had to, I’m not normally so clumsy.”
“It’s no problem, besides, what even is a beautiful girl like you doing out in these woods anyway?” Bash asked, not being able to take his eyes off Y/N. He’d never seen a girl so beautiful before. And ‘beautiful’ was not even enough to describe her.
“Oh, I’m just on my way to get flowers for a party later on. Which does remind me, that I should be on my way,” Y/N looked down at her basket, which she hadn’t fortunately dropped, when she had stumbled. Realisation hit her then, that he’d called her beautiful, but she couldn’t believe it. Perhaps she’d heard wrong?
“Do you work nearby?” Bash asked, his eyes still admiring her own. He did not want to leave her this soon after just meeting. But her duty called and truth be told, so did his. He wasn’t even supposed to be out here. He was out riding with his horse when suddenly he heard the most beautiful voice humming somewhere nearby. Having left his horse a few metres behind, was when he finally saw her. She was twirling and twirling and completely not noticing the tree root that was about to make her fall on the next twirl. Thankfully, he was fast and had caught her on time.
“Yes, I do. Are you from around here as well?” Y/N asked politely. Knowing that she should be going now, but his eyes were just too mesmerising, to not look away from, that she stayed grounded.
“I actually work at the castle,” he said, his eyes turning pink as if he was embarrassed about the notion. Y/N smiled at that. “Must be nice,” she thought out loud, as Bash just shook his head at her comment.
“Depending on the day, it can be a little bit too much sometimes.” Y/N nodded at that, trying to understand what it must be like working amidst hundreds of people. Working for royalty.
“Well, it’s like my father always taught me,” she began as she gave him the sweetest smile. “Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen.” Bash raised his eyebrow at that. “And do you feel like that?”
“Huh?”
“Do you feel seen?” He inquired, and Y/N shrugged. The question was raw - she hadn’t expected that. Did she feel seen? No, not as of late. But she couldn’t tell him that, now could she? She noticed the sun had turned just a tiny bit more golden and felt fear rush through her. She was supposed to be making supper for the Deverauxs and their guests.
“Look, it’s been wonderful having this chat with you, but I really must take my leave,” she nodded to him, taking her basket and turning around, completely forgetting about the flowers.
Bash felt a tinge of sadness in him, before nodding and giving her a final smile. “Well, it was wonderful making your acquaintance. I hope to see you again someday.” Y/N turned around at his voice. She nodded, grinning at him.
“So do I.”
“Soon,” Bash said and saw Y/N blush, before finally taking her leave.
She found some wild poppies just behind the house and hoped they’d do. Fortunately, Madam Deveraux only gave her a quizzical look, before dismissing her. She took a breath, thanking the gods that her step-mother did not freak out over the flower arrangement. All evening as she was making supper for everyone, her thoughts went back to the kind stranger she’d met.
Bash.
Y/N was browsing through the city fair, currently looking at new books she wished she could buy when suddenly a horn was heard above in the upper city. She glanced up from the booth towards the sound, seeing everyone gathering around.
“Hear ye, hear ye,” a man in a formal outfit began. Behind him stood many other men, dressed the same.
These were men from the castle, she concluded. Her thoughts went to Bash for a second, before focusing back on the man giving out the information.
“As requested by His Royal Highness, Prince Sebastian, there is to be a ball, for two weeks hence, in honour of him choosing a bride. As per his wishes, the ball is open to everyone in the country.”
Squeals and cheers were coming from every corner of the city at the news. Y/N suddenly felt very happy. Maybe this was her chance to see Bash again in the castle, after all, he did say he worked there.
Having made her way back home, she rushed to Madam Deveraux, who was sitting in the living room with Arabella and Isadora. The latter was playing the piano. Correction, trying to play, for Y/N, did not know it was possible to make that kind of noise on the delicate instrument.
“What has gotten you in a rush? Your dress is all dirty again,” Arabella scrunched her face, clearly disgusted by Y/N’s clothing once again.
“I was just in the city when they announced there is to be a ball in two weeks as the Prince is to finally choose a bride. It’s open to everyone.” She smiled as she saw Madam Deveraux jump up from the couch, her daughters following her. Suddenly they screamed and the two girls jumped around.
“I’m going to be the new princess,” Isadora squealed before Arabella nudged her on the shoulder.
“No, I am!” Arabella insisted before Madam Deveraux made them quiet down.
“Y/N, you have to go into town and get three beautiful dresses,” Madam Deveraux smiled at her, a new prosperous future in mind for her daughters. She knew they had to look their best to catch the eye of the Prince.
“Yes, yes I will. Thank you for letting me come with you.” Y/N said as she was about to leave back to the city, her mind joyous and excited. Madam Deveraux had finally accepted her as part of the family and she got to go to the ball as well.
“Come with us?” Madam Deveraux scoffed and raised her eyebrow. “Why in the seven hells do you think you’re coming with us?”
Y/N started to say something before she was rudely cut off.
“Nuh, uh-uh.” Madam Deveraux pointed her finger at Y/N. “You do not belong at events like these. You will not go, I forbid you.”
Y/N felt tears in her eyes, not understanding why she was being so mean to her.
“Oh, Mama, look. You’ve made the duckling cry.” Arabella snickered and Isadora laughed.
“But why? All I’ve ever done is be nice to you. I do all these chores, you ask of me, and more.” Y/N started shaking but was reluctant to let out real tears. They cannot see me cry, she thought to herself.
“Have you ever considered that you’re maybe just not enough? Not enough pretty, not enough smart,” Madam Deveraux took steps toward Y/N, placing a finger under her jaw, pulling Y/N to look at her. “You’re no one.” Madam Deveraux turned away, before muttering instructions that Y/N was to buy dresses for the three of them the following day.
TWO WEEKS LATER
After helping the Deveraux sisters into their beautiful ball gowns and doing their hair, Y/N watched them leave in a big beige carriage. Letting her shoulders shrug, she finally let out the tears she’d been holding in. Y/N had hoped to visit the ball as well, hoping to see the blue-eyed man who had taken over her thoughts.
Y/N heard footsteps behind her and her name being called, before turning around and seeing Anastasia, an older lady that she’d known all of her life. Anastasia was a neighbour, a lovely woman, who always took care of Y/N whenever it was needed. Anastasia did not like the way Madam Deveraux had started treating Y/N after her father died and even offered to let Y/N move in with her. However, Y/N always passed the opportunity down, saying that she made a promise to her mother and father to look after the house.
“My dear,” Anastasia came closer, taking Y/N’s hand and seeing the tear trails on her face. “Why are you not at the ball? Everyone’s invited.”
Y/N shook her head, before explaining that Madam Deveraux had forbidden her to attend the event. Anastasia pursed her lips, before muttering, more to herself than to Y/N.
“This will not do,” then louder, “this will not do at all.” She grabbed Y/N’s arm and started pulling her towards her house which was just a few minutes further away. “You will go to the ball, end of story.”
“But how? I have no horse to take me, let alone a carriage. Nor do I have a dress that is suitable for this kind of event.” Y/N saw Anastasia grin, before ushering her faster towards her house.
“Have courage, dear one. I will make sure you get everything.”
And just as Anastasia said, Y/N had it all. Anastasia was a well-endowed lady, who did not have the joy of getting to raise a daughter of her own. No, she was instead blessed with three sons. So it was mere luck, and perhaps a little bit of something else, that Anastasia had a beautiful periwinkle blue dress in her closet waiting to be worn. It fit Y/N perfectly as if it was made only for her to wear.
Anastasia did Y/N’s hair next, whilst explaining that she’d already talked with her personal chauffeur, who was to take Y/N to the ball.
“I cannot begin to thank you enough, Lady Anastasia,” Y/N had tears in her eyes, although this time they were there for another reason. Gratitude.
“Oh, stop it, dear. I’ve told you a thousand times to not call me that, it makes me feel old,” she grimaced, before helping Y/N into the carriage. As Y/N took a step, Anastasia saw her shoes, which looked worn out and definitely didn't go along with the dress. She muttered something under her breath, before looking at Y/N again.
“There’s something in a box inside the carriage. Make use of them. And make sure to dance.” Y/N furrowed her brows, trying to understand, before she took her seat and felt the carriage take off slowly. “But wait, what about Madam Deveraux and the step-sisters? Won’t they recognize me?” Y/N asked worriedly, looking back at the kind woman.
“Oh, don’t worry about something so trivial, my dear, it’s already been taken care of,” Anastasia winked, before remembering, “and before I forget, try to return at midnight. I cannot explain why, but it’s imperative that you do so. You have to be back when the clock strikes twelve.” With a smile, Anastasia stayed behind, waving at Y/N.
Y/N was a bit confused, even more so when she opened the box that was on the seat in front of her. Beautiful shoes, made out of iridescent glass, were inside the box. She gasped when she took one in her hand, not even feeling the weight of it, expecting it to be heavier. She slipped off her slippers, before trying on the glass shoes.
They fit perfectly. As if these shoes, just like the dress, were made just for her. Maybe Anastasia was a witch? No, that sounds too evil. Maybe she was her Fairy Godmother. Y/N chuckled at the silly idea of magic but still felt curious about the predicament she was in.
Y/N didn’t have enough time to dwell on the whereabouts of her dress and shoes before she saw the castle in front of her. Only a few minutes separated her from the majestic building.
“Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen,” she whispered to herself, looking longingly at the castle ahead.
The castle itself was beautiful. Y/N had never seen a building so marvellous in her life. Taking slow steps through the garden in front of the castle, she was in awe. Twirling around and trying to take it all in. The castle inside was just about the same. Mesmerising to the point of Y/N being left speechless. She imagined what it’d be like to live here. So in contrast to her current living conditions.
Before she knew it, she was standing behind a huge door, with two guards standing on each side of it. This must be the ballroom, she figured. She gave a nod and a curtsy to the guards before they nodded in return and opened the doors.
She heard the buzz of the voices first, before walking towards the balcony that was connected to the ground floor of the ballroom. About a hundred and fifty other people were mingling downstairs, not counting the guards and other workers.
She began to make her descent down the marvellous staircase, walking slowly, as if not to ruin the dress and not to stumble on her feet. She felt anxious, before reminding herself of her father's wise words again.
It was then that Bash saw her, from across the room. He’d been waiting for her for hours now. Hoping that she’d grace the castle with her beauty. And what a beauty she was, indeed. He was left bewildered when he saw her. She looked otherworldly.
She looked ethereal.
As if they were magnets, he felt an invisible string pull him towards her. He apologised to the princess currently in front of him and nodded to his father, before taking his leave and stepping onto the dance floor.
Y/N had just reached the last step when she noticed the crowd parting and giving her way. At the end of the tunnel of people, she saw him.
It was him, it was truly him.
Bash.
And oh, the way he looked at Y/N. As if she’d hung the stars in the sky.
He grinned when he was finally near enough to notice the sparkling eyeshadow on her eyelids and the pink tone of her lips.
“Wow, just wow,” Bash let out, scratching the back of his head. A habit of his, whenever he was nervous. “I’m speechless, really.” Bash said, before taking Y/N’s hand and placing a delicate kiss on her knuckles.
“You look breathtaking,” he said, looking up. Y/N blushed heavily, still not having noticed the ballroom growing quiet. All she saw was him. He was wearing a dark blue suit, with small gold intricate details, that made him look regal. It was then, Y/N realised, he was probably not just a mere worker in a castle.
“Would you allow me this dance?” He said as he stood up straight again. Y/N nodded, not trusting her words at the moment. He took her hand gently on his, placing his other on her waist. The pull between them only grew, the magnetic feel forcing them to be as close as possible.
And then they danced. He was a wonderful leader, and fortunately for Y/N, she was not so bad herself on a dancefloor, having taken dance lessons in her youth. The pair only had eyes for each other, completely ignoring the looks they were getting all over the ballroom. Some were jealous, some were elated, and some were more than angry with the outcome happening right now.
Y/N grinned as Bash twirled her not once, but twice, and then made her fall into his arms. The song ended and they were both out of breath. Y/N felt Bash put a strand of hair behind her ear, looking longingly into her eyes. He leaned in, before closing his eyes and stopping himself.
“Come with me, I want to show you something,” Y/N nodded as he led her away from the dancefloor to the confines of a secluded room filled with high bookshelves. There were rows and rows of books. Y/N twirled around, taking it all in. She’d never seen bookshelves this high before.
They were in a library.
Sebastian noticed how Y/N smiled in awe as she took it all in. He just had a feeling she would like it.
“You didn’t tell me you were a prince, Prince Sebastian,” Y/N said when she turned around from admiring the thousands of books gracing the shelves. Bash chuckled.
“I told you I worked at the castle. Which is true,” Y/N narrowed her eyes before smiling.
“I just didn’t specify,” Bash said, a finality in his tone. Y/N then saw him truly as he was, as a future king.
A kind future king, she acknowledged.
“True,” she took another longing look at the bookshelves before something else caught her eye on the other side of the room.
There was a black grand piano, waiting to be played. Almost calling her name as she took steps towards it. Bash saw what her eyes had fixed on, a grin growing on his face.
“Do you play?” He asked as Y/N let her fingers slide tenderly across the black-and-white keys.
“I used to,” Y/N said honestly, still gazing longingly at the beautiful instrument in front of her. “I haven’t in a while, not since my father passed.” Bash looked at her sorrowfully, before whispering his condolences.
Sebastian took a seat in front of the piano, patting the place next to him. Y/N blushed before she obliged.
She watched Sebastian place his hands on the piano, pressing a few keys, which made the sweetest tune. She closed her eyes and hummed to herself when she heard him continue. Suddenly the sound stopped and she opened her eyes to come face to face with Bash.
“Your turn,” he whispered, his face was so close to hers, that she could feel his breath on her face. She blushed but shook her head.
“I shouldn’t.”
“You should.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“You should.”
“I shouldn’t, really.”
“You should, really.”
“I will.” She said finally, seeing Sebastian grin before she placed her trembling hands on the keys.
She took a breath before letting her hands take over, the notes she played were familiar to her, never forgotten. Even if she hadn’t played them in so long. She let herself be carried by the tune, until at some point, there was a dialogue.
Sebastian had accompanied her on the piano, he was playing on his side, giving supporting yet beautiful notes to the ones she played. Y/N was enthralled and totally mesmerised by the music.
So was he. Before today, Sebastian was sure Y/N could not surprise him anymore. She was already perfect enough. But here she was, letting out a precious and delicate part of herself that not many could see. She trusted him. And he appreciated it more than Y/N could ever imagine.
Later on in their life, Bash would tell Y/N that this was the moment he fell in love with her.
As with all good things in life, the song came to an end, and Y/N removed her hands from the keyboard to her lap. Fidgeting with her fingers, as if suddenly ashamed of letting someone see her so bare.
Sebastian placed two fingers underneath her jaw, making Y/N look at him. Her eyes were so vulnerable, that he wanted to fix everything in her life. Not knowing anything about her, but vowing to himself that he’d do anything and everything in his power to make sure she was happy at all times.
Their faces were close again, just one small nudge, and he could feel her lips on his. Y/N saw as Bash’s gaze moved from her eyes to her lips, hers following the action. They were so–so close. Sebastian nudged Y/N’s nose with his own as if asking for permission. Y/N closed her eyes and grinned, him doing the same, and just as their lips were about to meet, Y/N heard the clock strike.
Her eyes flew wide open and she pulled away. Looking at the clock behind them, she realised she was running out of time.
“I’m so sorry, but I have to go,” Y/N said apologetically, coming to stand. Bash followed immediately, wanting to grasp her arm, but not wanting to overstep.
“You’ve been absolutely wonderful and I’ve had the time of my life, truly.” She started walking away, fast. Sebastian was bewildered, not understanding what went wrong.
“Why are you in a hurry?” He asked, giving her a smile to try to ease the sudden tension in the room.
“It’s hard to explain, I don’t even understand it myself. But I made a promise,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him. Bash was trailing behind her; they still weren’t out of the confines of the library. “I don’t break my promises.”
“Then promise me, we will meet again,” Sebastian told her, as he saw her quicken the pace. She was at the door now. The door that connected to the ballroom. The door that would bring them back to reality. She gave him one last look over her shoulder, grinning at him the way she’d never before when she finally whispered so only he could hear.
“Goodbye, Prince Sebastian.”
She took off and Sebastian followed. He felt his pulse quicken in his chest, for he had been so close to telling her that he’d chosen her as his bride.
And she’d used his full name. Not the nickname he’d given her.
Bash felt dread creep up on him. This wasn’t supposed to end like this.
And that’s when he realised he didn’t know her name. All this time together, and he had forgotten to ask the simplest of questions.
She had passed the ballroom now and Sebastian tried his hardest to catch up. With his luck, though, what with being the prince and all, he wasn’t so quick. Girls touched him and pulled him into them, everyone trying to score a chance at a dance with the Prince Sebastian.
Sebastian muttered countless apologies, before finally getting free of the wandering hands and quickening his pace towards her.
Y/N tried to run as fast as she could. Suddenly she stumbled and one of her glass shoes had fallen off. She looked behind herself and saw Bash following her, even if he was a bit farther behind. She did not have time to go back for the shoe, trying to get the other one off her foot, while still running.
She finally made her way to her carriage, letting it drive away. In her last glance towards the castle, she saw Bash picking up her glass shoe, holding it to his chest, and looking longingly towards the carriage. She blinked and felt moisture on her cheeks. She was devastated by leaving him, but he was a prince. He was the Prince Sebastian and she was just a commoner. A maid, if she could be called even that as of late. However, the feeling was bittersweet, as she’d have memories of this night to remind herself for the years to come.
The way his hands had felt, the way he had looked at her, the way his breath had made goosebumps on her skin when his nose brushed against hers.
The carriage dropped her off at her house, and she hastily made her way into her small room. As she changed into her other dress, the grey one that was her mother's, she noticed that her periwinkle dress was gone. She had just hung it up in her closet, but it was nowhere. She looked again and again, pulling out every other dress in her closet, but nothing.
It was as if it was never even there.
All that remained, which reminded her of the evening spent with the Prince, were her memories and the small glass shoe on the ground in her closet. Reminders, that she hadn’t imagined her time in the castle and that it had been real.
It was quiet until she heard voices coming from the hallway. Annoyed voices.
“I cannot believe, we didn’t get to dance with the Prince,” Isadora said grumpily, sitting down at the dining room table with a disappointed look. “All because of that stupid girl in that pretty dress.”
“At least I touched him,” Arabella closed her eyes, trying to remember the feel of his shoulder beneath her fingers. “He was so firm,” Arabella continued to daydream and took a seat next to her sister. Madam Deveraux was the last to arrive in the room, taking note of Y/N and how bubbly she suddenly looked.
She had a certain spring in her step, when she finally brought the food on the table, for them to eat. Madam Deveraux raised her eyebrow, eyeing Y/N thoroughly, but not saying a word. She thought Y/N would be more devastated at not having had the opportunity to attend the ball.
Something was going on. And she did not like it one bit.
Y/N spent the rest of her evening writing everything down in her diary. She wrote of every minute spent in the castle and her time with the Prince. Mostly, she wrote of the Prince.
It was a month after the ball when Y/N went to her room to check her closet. She had a peculiar feeling in her chest as if something were amiss. Her diary had been exactly where she’d left it, but to her surprise the glass shoe was missing. Y/N looked around her closet, but it was nowhere in sight.
“Are you looking for this?” She heard the cold voice of Madam Deveraux from the doorstep, before looking at her quizzically. “It’s a wonderful little thing, isn’t it.” Madam Deveraux said, looking at the shoe in her hand and then at Y/N. “Do you even know that there’s a countrywide search for whoever wore these shoes to the ball?”
Y/N was surprised, for she did not know the Prince was looking for her. Mostly because she hadn’t even been out of the house these previous weeks. Madam Deveraux had been giving her more chores than she could manage and now she figured out why.
“I won’t even begin to ask where you acquired such a thing, for I simply do not care.” Madam Deveraux hit the glass shoe on the wall next to her, making Y/N gasp and let out a weak ‘no’.
Madam Deveraux smirked, taking pleasure in Y/N’s sorrowful state. “It’s only a matter of time before they knock on our door. And you will not be a part of this household when they ask. It’s only me, Arabella and Isadora.” She grinned darkly, looking at Y/N sitting on the floor, tears in her eyes.
“Do you understand? Do you now, finally, understand that sometimes a person of your stature is just not enough?” Y/N whimpered as Madam Deveraux closed the door of her room, locking it behind her.
Y/N looked around herself, she had approximately enough food in her room to last her a few days, but she had finally accepted her fate. She would never see Bash again.
It was the afternoon of the next day when Madam Deveraux heard knocking on her door. She placed on her most pleasant smile and opened the door wide, to be met with the new King’s chancellor.
“Hello, we are here on behalf of His Majesty the King, to try to find his beloved. Are there any ladies in your household, to whom this shoe might belong?” The man in a dark blue suit asked, showing Madam Deveraux the glass shoe she was all familiar with.
Madam Deveraux was thrilled. She had ordered her daughters to lotion their feet daily and to try to squish them into smaller shoes, for she had to be sure that one of them would find their place near the King.
Arabella was first, as was expected of the eldest daughter. She let out a bunch of profanities while trying on the shoe, pushing and pulling the glass to try to fit into it. “One more time,” she said, her face completely red from the puffing and huffing.
“Oh, give up already,” Isaroda said, whilst nudging her sister, making her fall and catching the shoe in her hand.
As expected, it didn’t fit her either.
Madam Deveraux was absolutely annoyed with her daughters, completely disappointed in their incompetence.
“I am sorry for wasting your time, Madam Deveraux,” the chancellor said, as he was stepping out of the house. Just as he was about to get back on his horse, there was humming to be heard.
The loveliest voice was humming a tune somewhere in the house. Madam Deveraux’s eyes shot up, trying to close the door behind her.
The chancellor raised an eyebrow. “Is there someone else in the house with you?”
Madam Deveraux smiled smugly, however slightly shaken with the idea of the kingsmen hearing Y/N’s humming. She shook her head.
“No, there is no one, but me and my two daughters.”
“You’re lying,” said a strong voice, as a man jumped off his horse. He removed his hood, and everyone gasped.
It was Prince Sebastian. No, he was King Sebastian now. His father had fallen ill and given Sebastian the throne early.
Madam Deveraux was flabbergasted and immediately curtsied. “M-my prin-King, My King, I had no idea, you’d be here.”
Sebastian took a few steps forward, still hearing the tune of Y/N’s humming. He knew it was her. It was the same song they’d played on the piano together.
Sebastian looked at his chancellor, nodding towards the house. “Want to check it out, or should I?”
His chancellor, his best friend, smirked when he saw the glint in Sebastian’s eye. “Go ahead, Your Majesty.” Sebastian grinned before fastening his pace and entering the house. He followed the humming to the small door near the kitchen.
Sebastian saw that the door was locked, so with one, really-really strong pull he tore the lock off the door and exhaled before opening the door.
Y/N had no idea what was going on. She had been trying to calm herself ever since Madam Deveraux had locked her in this room. So when she heard noises coming behind the door, she had expected the worst.
What she didn’t expect, however, were the kind eyes of Bash.
Sebastian faltered, his steps coming to a stop. There she stood. His beloved. His Queen. He furrowed his brows as he took in her commodities. The way she was dressed. The way her eyes were red-rimmed - an indication that she had been crying.
She had been locked up.
Everything suddenly made sense to him and he wasted no time in hurrying towards Y/N and pulling her to him. Hugging her so close to him, finally, finally, feeling her in his arms.
“Bash,” She let out weakly and Sebastian just shushed her, placing his head on hers. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.”
Y/N tried to push herself away from him, afraid to get even more hurt. She had felt enough disappointment and grief in her life to experience it again. And grief she would feel if she lost Bash too. So it was easier to push him away before her feelings got too strong. Although, deep down, she knew there was already no turning back. She had fallen for him. Deeply.
But Sebastian wouldn’t budge, he was only grinning more widely when he realised that Y/N, the one he was looking for, was safely in his arms.
“Do you know that I have a countrywide search put out for you?” He asked casually, not even minding that she was trying to break free of his hold. Letting his fingers run through her hair, silently comforting her.
“Bash, have you even realised who I am?” Y/N looked at him through tear-filled eyes. “I'm a nobody. A maid at best. I have no prospects, no dowry. I am not someone you want next to you to rule a kingdom.”
Sebastian laughed at that, pulling the smaller one closer to his chest, letting his head fall on her own again. “That’s where you’re wrong, darling,” He inhaled her scent before placing a kiss on her head.
“You’re strong, you’re honest. Your heart is made of gold. You’re the only person I want to share the throne with.”
She finally looked up into his eyes, to see the most sincere gaze ever directed towards her.
“Well, aren’t you supposed to give me a shoe to try on then? Or have I heard wrong?” She finally retaliated and he chuckled at that.
“Fair enough,” he said before slowly kneeling in front of Y/N.
She looked at him, Prince Sebastian, no, King Sebastian now, on one knee, holding up a glass shoe.
Her glass shoe.
“May I?” Bash cheekily said, before Y/N blushed, and pulled up her skirt just a bit to give Sebastian her leg.
Bash placed her foot in the shoe, and as a surprise to neither of them, it fit her perfectly. His eyes found hers instantly, a strong, confident look in his gaze.
“Can I now, finally, know your name?”
She laughed at that, a tear escaping her eye as she finally began to realise that her old life was coming to an end.
“Y/N Y/L/N,” she said as Sebastian’s eyes glossed over as well.
“Y/N,” Bash tried the name out on his tongue, and he liked how it sounded. He closed his eyes and shook his head, before looking at Y/N again with a new determination in his face.
“Y/N, would you please do me the honour of marrying me and making me the happiest man to ever walk this Earth? I promise to give everything in me to make you happy. To keep you safe. Please, just please, end my misery and come back to the castle with me. As my equal. As my Queen.”
Y/N fell on her knees in front of Bash, her tears falling on her cheeks, although she did not care for them at that moment. All she saw was Sebastian’s face near her as she started to nod and laugh.
“Yes?” Bash looked at Y/N with a hopeful gaze, placing his hands on either side of her face, and pulling her towards him.
Y/N closed her eyes, feeling Bash’s forehead on her own.
“Yes.”
Time stopped then.
Sebastian pulled Y/N closer to himself and finally connected their lips. Magical was not even the word to begin to describe how it felt like. They were made for each other, of that, were they both certain. Y/N had never experienced anything like this before. His lips were so smooth and soft on her own that she let out a whimper. Bash smiled at that and Y/N followed.
They both pulled away, grinning at each other.
“I love you,” Bash said, caressing Y/N’s face with his right hand.
“I love you,” Y/N said before Bash connected their lips again.
It was no surprise that the wedding of Y/N and Sebastian happened only a week after their first kiss. Y/N had moved into the castle immediately after Sebastian had caught her locked up in the storage room. Madam Deveraux was put to trial, for treating Y/N the way she had. Arabella and Isadora, although crude in their temper, were pardoned, but made to leave the country, effective immediately.
As for Y/N and Sebastian?
Well, their story is just at the beginning, filled with sweet kisses and even sweeter memories.
“Do you have any idea how happy you’ve made me?” Bash asked as he held Y/N, his wife now, close to himself.
“Hmm, I can begin to imagine it’s something close to the way I feel,” Y/N chuckled and Sebastian laughed, finally taking a look at her.
Ethereal, he thought. She stood in front of him in their shared bedroom, still in her white gorgeous wedding gown.
Sebastian just shook his head, still in disbelief that his happily ever after was in his arms at last. He pulled Y/N closer and placed his lips on hers. The one of many kisses shared that night.
#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan cinderella au#sebastian stan fairytale au#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you
153 notes
·
View notes
Text
POV: AUSTIN BUTLER IS IN LOVE
(AND DOESN’T CARE WHO KNOWS IT)
masterlist here x
liked by fan21, user13, and 937 others
enews Love is in the air! Austin Butler and his girlfriend shared the sweetest reunion outside the airport 😭 more photos at the link in bio
view all comments
fan34 omg i am so freaking jealous
user12 GOD HAS FAVORITES AND IT AINT ME
butlerfan It feels so good to see him be publicly in love and not hide it anymore
liked by florencepugh, tomhardy, and 15933 others
austinbutler Happy day 🎂❤️
view all comments
fan13 LMAO THE OFFICE MEME RETURNS
tchalamet happy birthday gee! @yourinstagram
zendaya 27 has never looked better queen 💕
ashleytisdale I’m telling Jupiter LOL! Happiest birthday to you @yourinstagram you are a blessing in our lives 🥰🥰
ashleybee HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY 💘💘💘
liked by keoghan92, zendaya, and 97188 others
yourinstagram 💋 smooches for @austinbutler
view all comments
glenpowell Austin Butler is one lucky lucky man
fan13 not glen in the comment section please
user13 this gets cuter when you realize she was actually kissing him through the glass 😭❤️
oliviadejonge absolute stunner 🥀
austinbutler Get over here right now
liked by fan12, user13 and 988 others
enews Austin Butler and girlfriend spotted sharing a few cuddles and kisses while on a date! We all know how much they love their smooches 😚
view all comments
user21 one hand on her back, other in her pocket this man knows he’s fine
fan13 IM SO FUCKIN LONELY 😩
liked by ashleytisdale and 13794 others
austinbutler sweatin’ because my date is so hot
view all comments
ashleybee HAHA the caption 😂😂
yourinstagram lol u cheesy man 🫶🏻 ily
anthonyboyle He was probably so proud with it too 😂
keoghan ace mateeee 😌
ayoedibiri this is my favorite post you have ever posted
liked by keoghan92, zendaya, and 93166 others
austinbutler Took over lighting production during a visit on set and she killed it !!
view all comments
florencepugh I’m so mad you didn’t bring her on the Dune set
yourinstagram WHAT DO YOU MEAN I WAS THERE EVERY WEEKEND
florencepugh not enough. i needed you there every day.
yourinstagram Michael Mann said the job is mine 🤩
user13 y/n getting a job on the heat 2 set iktr!!!
liked by tchalamet, bazluhrmann, and 101766 others
austinbutler I want to do with you what spring does to cherry tress - Pablo Neruda
view all comments
fan23 … is everyone else also transfixed on her awesome boobs or am i a perv ?
oliviadejonge gorgeous girl
tomholland2013 aren’t we lucky boys mate?
ashleytisdale 😍😍😍
ayoedibiri she’s got you quoting pablo neruda and i completely understand why
yourinstagram if your boyfriend isn’t also your photographer break up with him
liked by catherinemartinedesigns and 89716 others
austinbutler 🕶️
view all comments
zendaya the coolest to ever do it
keoghan92 sickkkk
rileykeough Austin we’re gonna need you to release a book of all the photos you have of this gorgeous girl 🌚
ashleybee Her job is Cool Barbie
liked by ashleybee, anthonyboyle, and 67178 others
yourinstagram was my turn to snap a photo of this handsome guy who makes me the happiest i have ever been ♥️♾️ ‘love could be labeled poison and we’d drink it anyway’
view all comments
austinbutler oh no
yourinstagram taste of your own medicine mister lol
keoghan92 my teeth can’t handle the sweetness
florencepugh not one bad photo of either of you exists
ashleybee Having a big sister moment because he’s winked the same since he was like 5
yourinstagram can we look at baby pictures again 🥹
—
No disrespect intended to Austin’s current relationship, I respect their privacy but also I really wish Austin would post his gf, talk about her, all that good stuff I GET WHY HE DOESN’T 😭
also using Sydney Sweeney as a FC because I’m currently obsessed with her she’s awesome?? Brilliant ??? She is everything. Also I may have an idea for part 2 but it would be nsfw concerning leaked nudes and such but would anyone be interested in that? Lemme know! As always feel free to come chat 💬
#austin butler x reader#austin butler instagram#sydney sweeney instagram#austin butler instagram edit#austin butler fanfic#still working on callum as well just been so busy wahhhh#and im in love w sydney sweeney now#i watched immaculate she was great#i loved anyone but you#i love her work ethic
111 notes
·
View notes
Text
prompts: random quotes + excerpts.
“ you are so vulnerably haunting; your eeriness is terrifying irresistible. ”
“ we’re not that different, you and i. ”
“ you are a child of the cosmos, a ruler of the skies. ”
“ you’re just becoming more of what you’ve always been. ”
“ i’m not changing, none of us are changing. everything is fine. lets have a picnic. ”
“ my father had the kind of anger all fathers do – loud and terrible. it lingers for your whole life. ”
“ girlhood rots between my teeth, a sickness so sweet it aches. ”
“ i wished so badly to have my own life, but you wouldn’t let me. ”
“ parts of me died in the house i grew up in and i visit them in dreams. ”
“ today i heard your name and my hands started shaking. please make it stop, make it stop. ”
“ i wasn’t even allowed to cry over any of it, anyway! i wish the only thing that i spilled in my life was milk. ”
“ this is not fun! it’s just scary! ”
“ but if i hadn't fallen, i wouldn't have met you. ”
“ have you let go of the ails that anchor you yet? ”
“ have you let this marvelous spinning earth pull you into its arms and sweep you off your feet yet? ”
“ i dream, i dream, i keep dreaming. one word in my mouth crystallises like sugar: hope. ”
“ the nights get heavy like they always do. ”
“ heavy wind, cold rain, and yes the stars. ”
“ drifting apart always seems to hurt more as it happens. ”
“ i am trying to say: look at me. ‘i am weightless. you make my heart grow light.’ ”
“ right now, everything without you is almost sticky-sweet. it tastes like nectar. ”
“ can you accept help or are you the eldest daughter? ”
“ i swallow a bee for each ill deed done. i am a hive walking. i strain to hear you over the regret. ”
“ i knew that it was cruel to be so optimistic, but, in my solitude, i couldn't resist the urge and spent entire days basking in idiotic fantasies, sometime verging on prayer. ”
“ grief is not a feeling, but a neighbourhood. this is where i come from. everyone i love still lives there. ”
“ there is a certain clinical satisfaction in seeing just how bad things can get. ”
“ i was once very close to getting out of here. ”
“ there is no moving on. only running away. ”
“ i don’t love anyone. well, maybe my sister. ”
“ i am infatuated with the private life, and with anonymity; perhaps even invisibility. ”
“ sometimes you just need someone to tell you you're not as terrible as you think you are. ”
“ i opened my mouth, almost said something. almost. the rest of my life might have turned out differently if i had. but i didn't. ”
“ she is still inside of me. i carry her with me wherever i go. ”
“ being a confessional human being for me is like a defense mechanism. if i can tell you the flaw before you see the flaw, then maybe it's okay. ”
“ being a person didn't come naturally to me the way it seemed to for others. people who were sure of themselves awed me. i studied them and tried to mimic their ease. ”
“look back at the mess you've made. try your best to pick up the pieces. ”
“ not only had my brother disappeared, but– and bear with me here–a part of my very being had gone with him. ”
“ i kinda wish i was buried six feet under ground. but oh god i also wish i was buried in your arms. ”
“ we tell our stories differently, don’t we, you and i? ”
“ you poor thing. sweet, mourning lamb. there’s nothing you can do. ”
“ a golden cage is still just a cage. ”
“ although i may not be yours. i can never be another’s. ”
“ my mother didn't foresee what was going to become of us as a result of witnessing her despair. ”
#rp prompt#rp meme#rp sentences#rp starters#rp sentence starter#prompts#memes#rp starter#pinterest#quotes#rp quotes#mymemes.#*
96 notes
·
View notes
Text
Possible spoilers if you haven’t already listened or read the book. Also, spoilers for The Horror of Dracula, 1958 and Bram Stoker’s Dracula, 1992.
One of my favorite things about @re-dracula is seeing the reactions of people whose main exposure to the story is through the many film adaptations. The differences in how the characters relate to one another are way too many to list from film to film. Even aside from the bizarre choices (Lucy as Mina’s sister-in-law - the Horror of Dracula, 1958, or Mina as the reincarnation of Dracula’s lost love - Bram Stoker’s Dracula, 1992) the most important difference between those adaptations and re - dracula is that these are fully rounded characters who clearly care about one another.
Jonathan adores Mina, Mina loves him, and loves Lucy. The suitor squad and Van Helsing genuinely cherish Lucy and it causes everyone palpable pain when they see her slipping away. When the group finally gets together in one place, they all acknowledge and respect the various strengths they each bring, and they hold one another up as needed.
None of the characters seem cast aside, as often happens in film adaptations. Even the 1992 film, which includes all three suitors, doesn’t manage to make them all seem like full personalities. They appear more as aspects of an individual, or as tropes. Lucy herself in the ‘92 movie is the complete opposite of her characterization in the novel. Her behavior in the film is anachronistic at best, and offensive at the least. It is a perfect illustration of the stupid and misogynistic attitude in horror that “wanton” women are punished.
Not only that, but it also completely changes the story and the dreadful implications of it. Lucy isn’t targeted because she’s “done something wrong” (quotes because I don’t believe expressing/exploring one’s sexuality is wrong, no matter what my favorite genre keeps telling me), she is targeted because she is convenient. Dracula wasn’t musing in between leaving his castle and reaching England that by golly, he couldn’t wait to terrorize Lucy Westenra! He saw an opportunity, like any other predator, and he took it.
Of course, we’ve seen that he is very willing to play with his food once he feels in control. He was very pleased to be able to torment Jonathan, yet another character who is often treated poorly in adaptations - in the 1958 version he’s so smug and patronizing toward what appears to be a terrified woman, that I was actively hoping for his death.
In contrast, the novel/Dracula Daily/re-dracula show us a sweet, earnest man, one who is gentle and loving. He, like Lucy, is a convenient victim, and like Lucy, is innocent.
The true horror is that terrible things can happen to anyone, and no amount of wealth, education, or simple good-heartedness, will act as a shield. There are no preventatives, and no one “deserves” the terrible things that happen. The real strength of the story isn’t in deciding which characters(usually women) are worthy of saving, an overly simplistic approach that many film adaptations take, some more subtly than others. The story resonates because in spite of the randomness of the horror, the people involved decide to do something about it.
These people are not always perfect or even heroic. Dr. Seward (who I really enjoy, and who is also often portrayed badly in adaptation) is not a safe person for his patients to be around. He is ableist, arrogant, patronizing, and definitely not handling his own mental health well. He is also loving, practical, loyal, and in many ways exceptionally tender-hearted. All of the cast is achingly good in their portrayals, but Johnny Sims’ interpretation of Seward has been revelatory. The man is flawed, but gosh darnit, he’s absolutely human. His pain is visceral, his awkwardness is utterly relatable, and his attempts to make things make sense is so hard to hear, because we want the awful things to be a puzzle with a logical solution, but we also know that there is no motivation for what is happening, it is all chance.
Mina herself questions why they need worry about Dracula, once he is gone from England. By this time she’s had a horrific experience with the count and understandably wants to be done with the whole thing. Earlier, however, she begins her work of compiling all the information available about Dracula, because she understands that something may need to be done, for the good of all.
She is afraid of losing her husband, she is afraid of what other horrors may wait, but she also is able to put that aside to continue to pursue stopping Dracula, so that there won’t be another victim, and so that Dracula himself might be saved from the horrific reality he’s experienced for so long.
I have been telling people ad nauseum that re-dracula is hands down the best adaptation of the novel I’ve ever encountered. It is because it is treated as a story about people, real people, with real connections to those around them, real flaws and strengths, who grow to share a bond. They swear to stop Dracula, not out of vengeance, as Jonathan can be forgiven for wanting, but out of love for those they have lost and those they may save.
#re: dracula#tiny essay#if you aren’t listening but have any interest please listen#you won’t regret it
197 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
mr-sadman
Mr. Sadman
amabeeze3al
Professional Yapper!!
nowarin
Mostly Total Drama art blog
steamanband
The Hyperfixater
agathavataneya
curcolbareng|agathavataneya