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sakkiichi · 8 months

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FROM ME TO YOU.

Because good things take time and it’s not too late for happy birthdays.

ft. Albedo x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, birthday special, reader is an amateur painter.

this is just something spontaneous that I came up with… I just… kinda gave free reign to whatever flashed through my mind once I was before the blank document, parting from a very vague idea I had haha.

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

Autumn’s cold always arrived early in Dragonspine.

The faraway rays of a molten copper halo fuse with the peaks outlined on the horizon.

Magic is the word you’d use to describe such scenery; seconds that seemed to both be suspended in the helpless passage of time, and slip between your fingers; like golden sand inside an hourglass too small to savor every snapshot brought by the incandescence of crepuscular skies.

On instances like this, you wished your painting skills were better; if only to capture the glow of early dreams threaded through the asters of twilight.

For now, however, this will have to do.

Why did you wait until so late for this, you are unsure.

True, wishing a happy birthday to someone as the clock strikes twelve is not an uncommon occurrence.

And you’re kind of doing just that, more or less.

Except…

Well, it’s usually when the special day starts that calls are made, starlit whispers are uttered between lovers, and secret kisses are exchanged.

So you can’t help but wonder… is it too late?

For this? Or to back out now?

A sigh escapes your chapped lips, into the dimness of dusk, the stillness of frozen peaks, the stars.

Stars.

Your gaze is drawn to the easel you’ve set before you, fingertips delicately trailing over the four-point asteroids decorating a heaven made of brushstrokes.

Gold pinpricks, almost aglow beneath the darkening penombre of sundown, over a backdrop of ultramarines and indigoes, akin to sunlight over the depth of a frozen sea; a mirror image of the sky now hovering over snowy plains.

Looking up, you find a firmament of constellations. Stories, sketched in the silver flames of light years away suns, above an infinity of obscurity.

Those tales, however, had a tendency for lighting up paths that fell victim to the constant fluttering snowflakes.

“Hello, dearest.” A voice, smooth, liquid dawnlight over dewed cecilia petals, greets. “Am I late?”

The sound of crunching snow fills the fire-lit silence, the torches from his camp casting him in tepid hues.

“Albedo!” You call him, turning around.

And when you do, you swear he alone outshines every galaxy you could ever dream of rendering on canvas.

Tendrils of midnight sun and honeycomb seem to meld together in the blonde locks framing the alchemist’s porcelain-like face. Spotless, argent light from distant stars kisses his skin, fading into flecks of sparkling acacia blossoms to halo his gaze.

Summer skies.

That’s the image his eyes always evoked: clear skies, endlessly blue, over meadows to lie on, the low grass soft beneath your forms, as hands entwined and fingers pointed above, determining the shapes of the occasional cottony clouds.

What a paradox, how someone who spent his days surrounded by ice could make sparks ignite in your heart, cheeks heating up like the embers that remained after the coziness of a homey hearth.

“Is there anything you needed my help with, love?” He asks, gloved hand running its thumb over the back of yours.

Your gaze flits from your intertwined hands to his smiling lips, taking in his features in full.

“Not exactly your help.” You offer, your own lips a moon shaped brushstroke of vermillion. “I just… would like you to see something.” Your hand squeezes his, as you swing your linked hands between the both of you. “It’s your special day today, after all, isn’t it?”

Your rhetoric is met by the alchemist’s windened gaze, followed by one of his subtle smiles.

Tugging him along, you guide him to the candle lit spot where your easel is propped up.

Why are you feeling nervous all of a sudden? You internally chide yourself, biting the inside of your cheek.

Relaxing your shoulders, you turn to face your lover, gaze averted when you mumble:

“It’s not much but…” You scuff one of your boots on the dirtied snow. “I just… I remembered your painting, ‘You and I’ and… well… you know… I…” Your lids close, your nose scrunched up in that way he always found utterly endearing. “I wanted to make a painting for you too!” You finally sputter, stepping aside so he can see your masterpiece.

From that moment on, Albedo would forever believe no starry night could ever come close to capture the sheer magic of your art.

Gilded speckles abound in your make-believe heavens, each of them a shade slightly different than the previous one. They rest against a backdrop of cyans, accentuated in baby blue around your handmade constellations, the piece’s finale, a violet horizon. Outlined against it, two figures seem to dance, their happy ending created by them, rather than foretold by the celestial bodies staring in envy at a proximity that doesn’t burn, but warms and completes.

“I know it’s not the best but-“

“It’s perfect.” Is the kreideprinz’s awestruck answer, as his svelte hands hover over the frame. “You’re perfect, [Y/n].” He blurts, still staring at your work.

Then, he meets your eyes again. Your face is in his tender hold, a fleeting frosted kiss landing on your lips.

“I love it.” He assures. ‘I love you.’ His dilated pupils confess.

“‘From me to you’. Its title.” Your hand reaches up, resting on top of his. “You know… I hope you didn’t think I had forgotten about today… I just… kinda wanted this to be your last memory of your day.”

With that, both your gazes fuse in a watercolor of each other’s lips, of the anticipation of feeling them against your own.

“Happy birthday, Bedo.” You utter, before leaning in.

And then, the night, the snow, the starshine, all fade away, in a myriad of rose colored frenzied blazes. Your hands lost in the ash blonde strands at his nape; his, pulling you closer by the waist. Your kiss is a nebula of pulsating light, undimmed by even the most ruthless blizzards, lighting up the ebony of the pines obscuring the moonlight. Frozen air is exhausted in your lungs, but you don’t care right now, not when you’re kissing your prince charming under the lights of an aurora that’s still hours away.

A few moments pass, with the stars orbiting marking the approach of midnight.

A snow-kissed breeze caresses both your faces when you part, causing a shiver to rake through your body.

Your prince’s arms wrap around you.

When you look at him, matching chuckles fill the night air.

Moments like this were worth waiting all day for.

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talesfromthebacklog · 4 months

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Adding to The Backlog: Christmas Sale Pickups.

This is the time of year I pick up the most titles (which I then work on for the rest of the year.). And why not? Everything is on sale! I actually budget for this time of year.

It’s “Tales From The Backlog” not “We buy nothing until I finish the backlog”. The backlog will never be finished.

So let’s go over what I got! Links for everything will provided. As I find people are more likely to engage if the work was already done for them. Me included. This is not necessarily a suggestion list. If you want to see if any of these games are actually any good follow my blog. But I do think it’s interesting to show people what kind of gamer you are, the games you’re attracted to, their difficulty level.

A gamer’s library says a lot about a gamer, in my opinion.

For Playstation 5:

Goodbye Volcano High:

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TLDR: I put this one first because if you don’t see any of the other games on my pickup list, I AT LEAST want you to consider this one. This was the only Playstation title I picked up on sale (It is also on Steam). This is pre(historic)-apocalyptic coming of age visual novel with killer animation and music. I’m surprised I don’t see folks talk about this one more. It’s maybe the most stunning looking visual novel to come out this year. (At least at a glance)

Which is a hefty claim considering titles like Jack Jeanne and Virche Evermore: Error Salvation dropped this year. I can’t WAIT to play this one.

For Nintendo Switch:

Roots of Pacha:

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I came back around to this one. It looks like Stardew Valley but with cavemen. You don’t see cavemen touched on a lot anymore so it seems different and interesting.

Wylde Flowers:

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This is one see that keeps popping up in conversations and videos as a great cozy game. It’s supposed to be really good. I’m honest enough to admit that it being on the Apple app store as well as Switch makes me REALLY skeptical. But I’ve seen enough gameplay where I’m willing to take a chance.

Coromon:

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I enjoy Pokemon-like titles. I don’t think we get enough of them. I love Pokemon. And you’ll be seeing my update on how I feel about Scarlet/Violet’s last piece of DLC the Indigo Disc here pretty soon.

However Pokemon is so domineering on the market that a lot of these smaller collector games get unnoticed. This seems to be a very unapologetic Pokemon-clone much like Monster Crown. Which is fine by me.

Nexomon + Nexomon: Extinction bundle:

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Another very obvious Pokemon clone. But it’s obviously prettier than its Coromon counterpart. (Kinda wish the names were more unique.) I have nothing new to say here.

Monster Sanctuary:

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Pokemon… but it’s a Metroidvania. $3.99. I swear the theme wasn’t intentional they just all popped up on sale at decent prices.

2021 Moon Escape:

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This is from the same people who did Traumatarium. I did a review on that one a few months back. It’s on sale for $2.49. And this ISN’T my cheapest pickup for this year. The gameplay reminds me of Zelda or Star Tropics. But I don’t know much about it other than what the trailer already shows us. But also it was $2.49. It’s okay with me if it’s just okay. Not all games have to be 10/10.

Mythic Ocean:

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I have a soft spot for ocean games. Even the more spooky ones like Subnautica or Dredge still have this serene element to them. Mythic Ocean is no different. You apparently help a pantheon of gods find themselves. Which in turn those choices shape the world around you. Sounds simple, short, and cute. It looked a bit explorable too? We’ll see. I’m unsure about that part. It’s on sale for $1.99. And this was my cheapest pickup this season.

For Steam:

Sonic Forces: Overclocked (Steam version REQUIRED for this)

I have, in no uncertain terms. Have played this game. I 100%ed it even. I like the game. Played better but I still like it.

HOWEVER. I haven’t played Sonic Forces Overclocked. Which requires the PC version of Sonic Forces!

This is a FAN MADE incredible mod that blows the original game out of the water apparently. This is, perhaps, my most high priority game purchase of the YEAR. And it’s only $10 to buy Forces right now. This is literally a no brainer.

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Slay The Princess:

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I felt like videos on this one sprung up seemingly overnight on Youtube. I watched someone play the demo and it was an awesome looking game. A horror visual novel about saving a princess is a neat little premise. This one was barely on sale, but I see myself playing this one soon because of the hype. The full voice acting is great.

Magical Diary: Wolf Hall

The original visual novel Magical Diary: Horse Hall was a game a friend showed me back in high school. Pretty innocent and cute. When this dropped in 2020 I was surprised the game got a sequel at all. The thing I remember most about Horse Hall was that there was a route where you could date Professor Snape. That wasn’t his name but… it might as well have been.

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ask-a-girl-and-a-bowgart · 10 months

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wanted to make this a comic but I don't have the energy 💀

so have this instead- belated moments upon ye:

~~~~~

The winds were cold and dry, as one would most likely expect on Cold Island, snow hindering Blue's vision. He, along with Lily, were walking down a path to his sister's place.

But sweet Glaishur it was cold.

Lily kept complaining so.

"Blue, I'm cold."

"Keep moving, we're almost there."

"You said that last time."

Blue laughed. "I promise we're almost there."

Lily huffed a bit, but kept moving. No doubt wherever she came from in the Human World it wasn't nearly as cold, Blue thought.

the two approached a small house, with quaint windows and warm, cozy light pouring our through them. It was hard to tell in the snowstorm, but this house had an orange chimney; the signature feature of the house to distinguish it from the rest.

Cemilas home.

Blue walked up to the door, Lily tailing very closely behind.

"Alright Lily," Blue looked over at lily, her face half hidden in the scarf he bought for her, "we're here."

Lily not only gave a quick sigh of relief, but also became more visibly excited. Nervous? Perhaps both. She held the gift she was holding closer to her tiny body.

Blue knocked on the door three times, and heard shuffling inside.

"I'll get it!" A voice called from within.

The door opened a moment later revealing a short Pango as the one who answered.

Their fur was a deep purple, so purple it was nearly black, the light lavender fur on their complimenting their dark fur. They had matching scars on their chest, indicating some sort of top surgery that had happened years prior.

They smiled. "Wasn't expecting to see you here, Blue."

"It was very last minute," he smiled back, greeting the Pango.

"Well, uh, do come in," the Pango motioned for the Blue (and Lily) to come in.

"Oh! I'd like to introduce you," Blue turned to Lily, who was standing at his right hip. "Lily, this is Indigo, Cemilas partner," motioning to the Pango. "Indigo, this is Lily, the human child im taking care of."

"So the tales are true, I hear!!"

Indigo, Blue, and Lily all turned in the direction of a much lighter colored Bowgart, maybe cornflower blue, standing in the hallway leading to the living room, where the three of then were.

"And this is Cemila," Blue motioned to Cemila, still talking to Lily, "my older sister."

Cemila gave the biggest grin any monster could give, running up to Blue and giving him, well, a monster-sized hug. Blues feet were off the ground.

"Ah, it's so good to see you, B!!"

"The feelings mutual, sis," Blue was kind of gasping for air. Cemilas hugs were the best hugs, to be honest, but you always found yourself lacking oxygen.

Cemila put him down, and the height difference could be seen between the two. It wasn't much, but Cemila was taller by a couple of inches. If you subtract the horns, anyway.

Nonetheless, she turned her attention to Lily.

"And this must be the kid you're shelterin'," Cemila crouched down to Lilys level, "why, aren't cha just adorable?"

Lily, still in her snow coat and scarf, smiled and bounced a bit, throughly pleased at Cemilas compliment.

"This is for you, Cemila," Lily said, though muffled by her scarf. She handed the gift to Cemila somewhat bashfully, clearly a bit nervous.

Cemila gasped and accepted the gift. "Why, thank you!"

Blue couldn't help but chuckle a bit at the exchange. Indigo did too.

Cemila and Lily would be great friends, Blue could tell.

Indigo clapped their hands together. "So, I've got dinner made," they looked from Lily to Blue. "You two hungry?"

"I'm alright, but Lilys always hungry," Blue looked at Lily, who perked up at the sound of "dinner".

Indigo laughed. "I'll make Lily a plate,"

Cemila rose up, now hold the gift from Lily. "Why don't you two stay a while? Get settled in, the blizzards only gonna get worse!"

Lily looked up at Blue for a second, seemingly asking for permission, before unraveling her scarf and shedding her heavy coat.

Blue took off his hat, watching Lily run off to the kitchen.

"Mind your step, Lily!" Blue called out, hanging up his jacket.

"Sorry!" was her response. From the kitchen obviously.

Blue hung up his jacket and Lilys, making his way to the kitchen, sitting at the bar that was there. Cemila took a seat next to him.

"So, little brother of mine," cemila nudged him in the shoulder, "hows life?"

"Same old, same old."

"Aw, that's not exciting!"

"What is there that's exciting?"

"You tell me! That's why I asked!"

The two laughed. Blue would tell Cemila his current situation, but he didn't want Lily overhearing. Or at least, he didn't want her to accidently spreading his situation to others, even if that chance was slim.

"I'll tell you later," he nodded to Lily. "Don't want any stray ears listening in."

"I know whatcha mean," Cemila nodded, not pressing the issue any further.

The two sat in companionable silence for a moment, listening to the clattering of plates Indigo was dishing up in the kitchen.

Lily left the kitchen with a plate full of food. A fish filet with a side salad and potatoes.

"Well aren't you spoiled," Blue teased.

Lily smiled stuck out her tongue in response, being silly.

Indigo was carring two plates, obviously for themself and Cemila.

"You eating here or at the table?"

"Uh, I'll eat here."

Indigo set one of the plates down in front of Cemila.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?" Indigo asked Blue. "Do want something to drink?"

Blue shook his head "I'm alright, Indigo. Thank you."

They walked over to the table, where lily was already scarfing down her food. Indigo told her not to eat so fast, or she'll get sick.

Blue turned his attention from Lily to his sister, starting a conversation.

"How're the mines nowadays?"

Cemila shook her head. "A shithole to say the least." She said it quiet enough so Lily couldn't really hear.

"That sounds fun," Blue retorted.

Cemila gave a short, staccato "ha!" before continuing on.

"We just had one of our tunnels collapse on us two days ago. We're still trying to clear out any rubble, maybe find some bodies that were trapped. Luckily, from what I hear, there isn't a lot."

The siblings continued talking about the mines, before shifting topics to Blue's employment situation.

"Still haven't found one?" Cemila asked, worried. The food on her plate was nearly gone.

Blue shook his head, clearly exasperated.

"Nope... and the checks stopped coming in, so... no money."

Cemila looked down at her plate for a second before looking back up at Blue.

"There's an opening at the mines..."

"Lily wouldn't survive the cold. And I don't have anyone else to look after her if something were to happen."

"Don't you have Twig?"

"He's a damn plant, and sensitive to the cold. An autumn day on Plant Island is uncomfortable to him."

Cemila nodded, took a sip of her drink (water).

"There aren't any jobs at Plant Island?"

"Oh there are, it's just... I either have to go to school and get X Y and Z licenses or the job doesn't pay enough for who I'm supporting or the job downright sucks."

He put his head in his hands, his upper two ones at least. No job was suited for him, not on Plant Island.

Cemila put a hand on his back, providing some comfort and reassurance.

"If you ever need it, B, we can send money."

"It's fine, really." He didn't want to admit it, but he really didn't want to have to rely on Cemila for money. That's the last thing he wanted, was having to rely on someone else when he can just solve his own problems.

"Blue,"

He looked up, seeing Cemilas worried and unconvinced face.

"I'm serious."

"So am I," Blue sat up. "Where's the bathroom?"

Cemila let out a small sigh of mixed emotions. "Down the hall, second door on the left."

Blue got up and headed that way.

he got to the bathroom, closed the door. With a shaky sigh, he sat down on the floor, right up against the door.

The problems were mounting up, just like his anxiety about them.

Unemployment, child support, his feelings for Twig, losing everything he holds dear.

He didn't cry, but he damn well wanted to. The feeling behind his eyes was there.

~~~~~~~~

"Blue?" Cemila called through the door. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he sounded unconvincing.

"Well, we're having cake if you want any."

"I'll be out in a bit."

Cemilas footsteps could be heard walking to the living room with some hesitation, but she left.

Blue took several deep breaths to calm down and keep himself together. Soaking in a tub of anxiety isn't healthy, but neither is pretending everything is alright.

Hed just have to push through, for Lilys (and Dee's) sake.

he got up and left the bathroom, heading towards the living room.

On the table was a homemade cake, no doubt for Cemilas 30th birthday (in all technical terms, it's a hatching-day, but most monsters just use the term "birthday"). Lily was sitting across from Cemila (who was now wearing the velvet red scarf Blue and lily got for her loosely around her neck), and Indigo was lighting the candles.

"Oh good, you're just in time," Indigo looked up briefly to see Blue standing next to Cemila.

"Glad you could join us," Cemila looked at Blue with a smile. He nodded in response, trying to shake off his problems.

At least now he could forget about them, just for this moment.

Indigo blew out the match they were using, and set it down on the table.

"Ready?"

A unanimous "yeah" came from the table.

"Okay," Indigo gave a little chuckle. "One, and-a two, and-a-"

Indigo, Blue, and Lily sang "Happy Birthday" to Cemila, who was no doubt feeling bashful and silly.

30 years old and still a child at heart.

Once they were done, and Cemila had blown out the candles, she sliced up the cake and dished out a piece to everyone.

Blue was sitting at the kitchen bar with his small slice of cake. He wasn't that hungry, but it'd be sin to not have some cake to celebrate.

Cemila was once again sitting next to him, while Indigo and Lily sat at the table, talking away. The siblings, however, ate their cake in silence.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was well into the night, Lily asleep on a bed in the guest room. The storm had definitely gotten worse; the snow hammered at the walls and wind rattled the windows. But Cold Islands buildings were meant to withstand storms like these, so there wasn't much to fear.

The adult monsters in the room, exempt from Blue, now held some sort of alcoholic beverage. Indigo, a mild spritzer. Cemila, a glass of bourbon (she's manly like that, if you'd like to say so yourself). Blue held a bottle of soda. He never had a taste for alcohol; it also gave him a headache later, albeit he may have had one drink.

So, soda.

Indigo and Cemila were sitting next to each other on the sofa, Blue sitting in a lounge chair. The couple were talking about something, Blue merely listening in, providing commentary where needed. He wasn't one to actively engage in group conversation.

Then Twig crossed his mind. He always crossed Blue's mind.

But instead of pushing away the thought with all due diligence, he instead welcomed the thought, held onto it.

Twig... a tall, smug, rebellious bastard who always and Blue meant ALWAYS getting into some sort of trouble, whether that be a fight, or a fight.

But Blue saw past all that.

He saw a puddle of sweet sap with a tough side, no doubt. He saw a monster who fiercely stands by what he believes in, deeply caring though he won't admit to it.

As much as he hated to admit to it, Blue loved him, with all his heart.

"How did you two get together, exactly?" He blurted.

Indigo and Cemila stopped their conversation, slightly confused.

"Come again?" Indigo asked.

Blue swallowed, embarrassed at his interruption.

"How did you two get together?"

"Oh," Indigo looked at him with slight surprise, looking at Cemila, who was chuckling a bit.

"Funny you ask," Cemila nudged Indigo affectionately before going into the story.

"So, I accidentally ran into Indigo in town - and I mean quite literally ran into them - and, come to find out, they worked at a store I frequently visited, so we got to know each other better. We became friends, then partners."

"That's the short story," Indigo pointed out. "There was much more to it than that."

"Why do you ask?" Cemila looked at Blue with a knowing smirk. She already knew, but she wanted to hear it from Blue.

He shrugged. "Curiousity."

"Riiiiiight."

Cemila and Indigo exchanged a knowing look, then Indigo looked at Blue.

Blue sighed. "Okay, so I'm thinking about someone, big deal."

"Look, Blue," Indigo spoke, "you better tell this someone how you feel, because you may not get the chance to later."

They reached over, lightly touching Blue's hand

"Tomorrow isn't a promise, it's a possibility. And if that possibility never comes, you don't want to live with the words you never said."

Indigo withdrew their hand, giving Blue a small, reassuring smile.

"Damn babe, I didn't know you could get so philosophical!" Cemila praised, leaning into Indigo a bit.

"Well those words are based on an old Monster Proverb! Haven't you ever heard of it?"

"...we have proverbs??"

The two went back and forth, teasing one another.

Blue, however, heard those words echoing in his head.

Tomorrow isn't a promise, it's a possibility. And if that possibility never comes, you don't want to live with the words you never said.

Blue thought about Twig again, and how much it would hurt if he lost hi to someone else.

He wouldn't be able to live with it, at least comfortably.

"Thank you," he spoke softly.

The two were laughing

"Huh?" Cemila answered, between her laughs.

"Thank you," he said a little louder, standing up to leave. "I'll... I'll keep that in mind."

He gave Indigo a smile before heading to the guest room, throwing away the empty bottle on his way.

He opened the guest room door quietly, where lily was asleep. Her easy, soft breathing was barely audible, and she was cuddling with the Sox plush he had gotten for her birthday a month ago. She was at peace.

Blue sat on the other bed, on the other side of the room. It roughly the same in size, and Blue could tell that this room was meant to be a kids room in the future.

The future. He pondered that thought for a moment, looking at Lilys peaceful state.

Sure, she's from a different world. And yes, she's not a monster, but that didn't stop Blue from loving her.

Blue only had Dee until Lily came around. He didn't realize the joy those two gremlins brought him until Lily started to become more prominent in the household. And last time he checked, Lily didn't show any homesickness or interest going back to her own world anytime soon.

And Twig... well, he'd be an adventurous parent, that's for sure.

If he had the same feelings Blue felt for him. But that's beside the point.

He wasn't going to chicken out anymore.

He was going to tell Twig how he felt, mutual feelings or not.

-----

#a girl and a bowgart au #msm au #msm #my singing monsters #not ask #slight lore dump #slight spoiler for what's ahead #👀

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mlapina · 1 year

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Lovely Heart continue!

Dear Miss Princess! This tale was told to me by the lunar wizard Svyatogor, who was friends with dragons Once, the long-nosed dragon Dil was waiting for us - magical moon warriors in the usual place. The good-natured sentinel promised to help us get the lunar armor. - Hold tight! We take off. The miraculous painters looked in amazement at the beautiful forest, which from a bird's eye view resembled a magical blue-green canopy of an endlessly fluffy tent, above which there is only a blue sky, and even higher - from space, the stars, the Moon and the Planets shone for them. The painters decided to paint a picture for the dragons in memory of this legendary campaign. Friends finished painting the armor obtained from ten moon trees, shared slices of Melon with the crew and continued their journey - I'll deliver to the palace! - exclaimed one of the twin pilots, the Twelve-meter Drakosha Doshen. Friends feasted all week, legends of this glorious time are still passed down from generation to generation, and magicians gave the moon armor to your father, beautiful princess. The artist finished painting the portrait, the young princess took the portrait and spun in a joyful dance. She was fascinated by the grace and beauty of the work of a wonderful painter and thanked him from the bottom of her heart. Then a tall handsome prince from a distant warm country of a thousand seas told his tale. -My fairy princess! I close my eyes and see this story in front of me, filled with love and big and small sparks. She will help me win your loving heart! Once, when the trees were tall, the clouds were large, white and fluffy, a bright sunbeam descended from heaven and gently glided over the smiling faces and cheeks of happy children, whose intelligent clear eyes looked at you and me, dear princess. The house smells of pastries, cinnamon and treats for children - oranges and hot chocolate. If you choose my fairy tale, so be it. -Wonderful mama and papa lived in the same kingdom. And they had a son and a daughter born under a lucky star. The princess laughed happily The prince looked at her with a smile and said: -So I see: every New Year's morning they kiss swirling heads in funny cozy pajamas, and give their treasure children a doll in the form of a young princess and a set of nesting dolls The children were friendly and smart, they grew and flourished, and their parents grew wiser and richer. One ordinary summer day, a herald appeared in the courtyard of their castle and announced that the king was throwing a ball for the young prince, and inviting all the beautiful girls of his kingdom All week the family was preparing for the holiday, and finally the day of the ball came A young man and a girl sang songs merrily as they drove along the road that led to the Emerald Palace. Today - a magic ball and the competition "Indigo dandies: growing talents" Our heroes dreamed of winning the competition in the "Ideal Emerald" nomination. Starring Yin Sparkle That is why they bought tickets for this amazing emerald masterpiece, and then interviewed the diva, who was bathed in applause by sincerely loving friends. - Perfect evening! - exclaimed our heroes The princess rewarded the young storyteller with applause Another storyteller from the kingdom of graceful manners entered the palace. He was stately and good-looking. He told the princess a fragrant tale: In the orange grove, friends met orange August. They considered the appetizing offers of climbers to climb the highest mountain of the Kingdom of Alexandria, run through a dewy meadow and admire the orange river, on the banks of which scarlet roses, blooming acanthus, azaleas, daisies and flowers grow. Our heroes joyfully rushed across this clearing and saw a ruby book, decorated with intricate carvings and funny drawings. Friends read and considered this rarity for a long time. The princess chose as her husband the one who saw her beautiful heart The story is magical and alive. It anticipates a good future, enriches everyone with wonderful events and good dreams. @MargaritaLapina

#live #love #life #Ideas #bestfuture

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allthenames · 2 years

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So I’ve recently had a gender identity crisis (haven’t we all) (I just realized that sounds like I’ve resolved the gender identity crisis, hahaHAH NOPE, I wish) and realized that I’m not female, I’m a mix of non-binary and male and female. And with that now known, I realized my name is far too feminine and doesn’t suit me regardless, so I’m gonna change my name. I’ve gathered a list of names in case one of y’all is also looking for names, so here ya go!

Cloud = good name, airy, no nickname that I can think of

Dawn = also good name (all the names here are good names tbh), sweet, airy, no nicknames

Snap = good name (I’m gonna stop saying this since it’s obvious), original, can be airy but can be down to earth, no nicknames, symbolism

Cotton = airy, nicknames (cot [ton if you were adventurous]), kinda airy ig

Sigil = soft, can be nicknamed Sig if you rlly want that, kind of mysterious but in a nice kind of way, pretty unique

Briar = planty, nickname (Bri), good symbolism (rose thorns)

Dewdrop = soft, sweet, nicknames (Dew and Drop)

Ivy = also planty, no nicknames, versatile

Chaos = no nicknames, fun, symbolic, can give people an idea of who you are, ✨unique✨

Riot = nickname (Ri, Ot if ur adventurous), symbolic, not very versatile tho, pretty unique

Raven = nickname (Ven), lots of symbolism (ravens got a lot of cool stuff and mythology about them goin on), mystery vibes but in a good way

Lyric = nickname (Lyr, ric if you wanted to), fantasy tale vibes, symbolism I think, all the uniqueness

Ink = lots of symbolism, no nicknames, storyteller vibes but also (good) mystery vibes, pretty unique

Web = no nicknames (unless u wanted the full version to be Spiderweb in which case web is the nickname), lots of symbolism, naturey, unique

Haze = symbolism, no nicknames unless you count Aze, kind of fire-esque

Void = kind of depressing, no nicknames, mystery vibes but like creepy mystery vibes, unique

Cipher = nicknames(?)(Ci, Pher/Fer if you’re adventurous), symbolism, cool mystery vibes (why do I pick so many names with mystery vibessss), unique (again, because I like noun names and noun names are often not used)

Vassel = medieval vibes (google medieval vassel), nicknames (Vas, Sel, & Vassie), good old-fashioned but like very old-fashioned vibes, unique

Coffee = nicknames (Caf/Caffy [from caffeine]), symbolism, cozy & warm vibes, unique

Tes = could be the nickname for something else, not really any symbolism, short & sweet

Dusk = nickname (Dus), symbolism, cozy vibes but also good mystery vibes but also nighttime vibes

Serene = nicknames possible if you’re adventurous, cool mystery vibes, nighttime vibes, symbolism

Pixel = symbolism(ish), nicknames (Pix, El/L), computer vibes, kinda fairy/magic/fantasy vibes too since it's close to Pixie, pretty unique

Blue/Blu = symbolism, lots of diff vibes including sadness but also calmness and nighttime, no nicknames but could be a nickname for something else

Indigo = symbolism, nickname (In, Igo if you want ig), witch vibes but like in a good way, reminds me of dye

Mayhem = nicknames (May/Mae, Hem, M/Em), symbolism, kinda versatile, gives people an idea of who you are, passable as a ‘normal’ name if you use a nickname, cool mystery vibes and also kind of carefree running in the rain vibes as well

I’m currently going by Coffee with my friends (Caf/Caffy for short), but I might change that, cuz I’m not yet fully sure if it fits me. It’s good for now, though. Feel free to use any of these names as you see fit (whether for you or a friend or an OC), and to comment with your opinions on these names and to add your own names that you like!

#name help #naming help #name change #name suggestions #androgynous names #andro names #noun names #oc names #genderfluid names #names #gender neutral names #genderless names #nb names #enby names #nonbinary names

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dungeonsanddragonsfifthedition · 3 years

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For ori! 8, 25, 49, and a Free Space for any one of them that u want to answer

what are three songs that suit them?

here are the three most recent additions to her playlist!

way out - indigo de souza - I see you in colors and I want to be better, but I don't get no light in here

pass the kerosene - the peculiar pretzelmen - the towers will tumble and we'll dance by the light; it's them or us, baby if you know what I mean; so here's to us, baby, now pass the kerosene

you give death a bad name - sufjan stevens & angelo de augustine - shot to the skull or a strike to the brain; the cadaver on the cross, you give love a bad name; can you explain all our divided pain; what still remains after the rigor mortis; poured gasoline, ghost in a dead machine; God save the queen, lessons and metaphors

what stories do they like to tell? what stories do they like to hear?

she likes to tell fairy-tales. she likes an extended metaphor--if she dies, a few other PCs get post-mortem fairy tales from her. she likes to hear stories of heroism or stories of political intrigue; she lives for drama very quietly.

what makes them smile?

her friends, animals, good books, being Cozy

#dnd talk #oriole

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greentrickster · 4 years

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List of wings types in your wing fic series?

Phoenix has blue jay wings with white inner feathers instead of the typical grey. He broke his left wing when he was fifteen, and now it can only hold him for very brief flights.

Larry has mourning dove wings, they are very soft and cozy

Edgeworth’s a golden eagle, meaning his wingspan’s actually enormous and he has a difficult time flying in urban areas and has to be careful spreading them fully indoors.

Trucy has crow wings, the same as her birth father, and lives up to crows’ reputation for being very clever

Athena has crow wings too, as it happens, and she really likes the contrast they give to the bright colours she tends to wear

Apollo has red and green macaw wings, call him a scarlet macaw and he will quickly correct you because that’s technically a different breed of macaw with a slight difference in feather colours

Klavier has peacock wings, and they’re flashy and splashy and he loves them. There’s a common misconception in-universe that peacocks are incapable of flight, so he often adds aerial stunts at his shows to help counter this.

Kristoph is a melanistic peacock, with a few patches of caramel on his pinions which he dyes black to match the rest of his feathers.

Gumshoe has pigeon/rock dove wings, and he bobs in place sometimes; humans don’t actually get bird behaviours based on their wings or birds in general, that’s just Gumshoe

Sebastian DeBeste is an indigo bunting, and people are sometimes dismissive of him in court due to having songbird wings. He’s getting better and better and making them regret this.

Franziska has black swan wings. Her father was openly disappointed in her for not fledging as a predatory bird of some sort; Edgeworth commented to her afterwards that his family has a history of fledging swans (she has never forgotten this).

Kay is actually a sparrow, which makes her nice and inconspicuous when she wants to be

Maya is a northern goshawk, and both eye-catching and a good flier as a result

Pearl is an English robin - tiny and adorable and will knife-fight god if called upon to do so

Godot was a red-tailed hawk, but his wings had to be amputated while he was in his coma, as his body was struggling to support both them and the rest of itself

Simon Blackquill is a crane. Another old wives tale is that people with crane wings are always as loyal as the birds they share wings with, meaning his apparent betrayal of his teacher was taken even worse in this universe than it was in canon

Nahyuta is an egret, but he doesn’t fly very often - he claims he never got into the habit as a child (he never goes into detail as to why)

Maggey Byrde is an albatross. People say this is suitable, considering her bad luck, but she actually likes her wings a lot, especially since she’s lucky enough to live near the coast and is able to go flying over the ocean sometimes

Lana Skye is a peregrine falcon, and she’s an expert at maneuvering through the city from the sky

Aaaaand that’s pretty much everyone I have at the moment!

#flock together au #ask #anon #ace attorney #thank-you!

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sparklesandsonicrainbooms · 3 years

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This is a starter call post for all of my characters in this RPG. Please specify which character you want, and please tell me which character of yours my character will be talking to. Thank you. My characters in this RPG are the following : Rainbow Dash from My Little Pony: Equestria Girls, Angelica Pickles from Rugrats and All Grown Up!, Wallflower Blush from My Little Pony: Equestria Girls, Cheryl Blossom from Riverdale, Vicky from The Fairly OddParents, Princess Audrey Rose from Descendants, Helga G. Pataki from Hey, Arnold!, Cozy Glow from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Starlight Glimmer from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Lynn, Jr., Loud from The Loud House, Natalie Page from Smart Boys & Fast Girls / Geeks Can Be Hot, Chloe Carmichael from The Fairly OddParents, Katara from Avatar: The Last Airbender, Pacifica Northwest from Gravity Falls, Tempest Shadow from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Marinette Dupain-Cheng from Miraculous: Tales Of Ladybug & Cat Noir, Lily Evans from Harry Potter, Bubbles Utonium from The Powerpuff Girls, Ronnie Anne Santiago from The Casagrandes, and The Loud House, Annie James from The Parent Trap, Amanda Killman from Bunsen Is A Beast!, Jenny Humphrey from Gossip Girl, Nola James from IN or OUT, Katie from Animal Crossing, Sheldon J. Plankton from SpongeBob SquarePants, Vanellope Von Schweetz from Wreck-It Ralph, Rose Granger-Weasley from Harry Potter, Riley Matthews from Girl Meets World, Adagio Dazzle from My Little Pony: Equestria Girls, Juniper Montage from My Little Pony: Equestria Girls, Olivia from Paper Mario: The Origami King, Whittany Biskit from Littlest Pet Shop, Cindy Vortex from The Adventures Of Jimmy Neutron: Boy Genius, Princess Anna of Arendelle from Frozen, Pansy Parkinson from Harry Potter, Jackie Lynn Thomas from Star Vs. The Forces Of Evil, Milly from Phineas And Ferb, Daphne Blake from Scooby Doo, Josephine ‘Jo’ March from Little Women, Diamond Tiara from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Indigo Zap from My Little Pony: Equestria Girls, Ginevra ‘Ginny’ Weasley from Harry Potter, Joesette ‘Josie’ Saltzman from Legacies, Bloom from The Winx Club, Princess Ariel Triton from The Little Mermaid, Andromeda Black from Harry Potter, Cristina from The Loud House, Bonnie Rockwaller from Kim Possible, Hanna Marin from Pretty Little Liars, Sabrina Spellman from Chilling Adventures Of Sabrina, Stella Zhau from The Loud House, Cho Chang from Harry Potter, Clare Edwards from Degrassi: The Next Generation, Ocellus from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Candace Flynn from Phineas And Ferb, Renee from The Loud House, Annabeth Chase from Percy Jackson & The Olympians, Lucy Pevensie from The Chronicles Of Narnia, Mary ‘Boo’ Gibbs from Monsters, Inc., Katie Bell from Harry Potter, Danielle ‘Dani’ Dennison from Hocus Pocus, Megan Parker from Drake & Josh, Sharpay Evans from High School Musical, Gabrielle Delacour from Harry Potter, Zoey Brooks from Zoey 101, Sutton Mercer from The Lying Game, Susan Bones from Harry Potter, Cheyenne Martin from the Private novel series by Kate Brian, Maya Matlin from Degrassi: The Next Generation / Degrassi: The Next Class, Taylor Bell from the Private novel series by Kate Brian, Lilo Pelekai from Lilo & Stitch, Ellie from Up!, Sam Sharp from The Loud House, Emma from The Loud House, Jackie from The Loud House, Sophie Piper from Halloweentown, Carol Pingrey from The Loud House, Lacey St. Clair from The Loud House, Luz Noceda from The Owl House, Webbigail ‘Webby’ Vanderquack from DuckTales, Lilly Truscott/Lola Luftnagle from Hannah Montana, Claire Lyons from The Clique, Meli Ramos from The Loud House, Emma Ross from Jessie / Bunk’d, Lexi Reed from A.N.T. Farm, Dylan Schoenfield from Geek Charming, Kimi Cheng from The Fairly OddParents ( she is my O.C. ), Hedley from Rugrats, Rachel Wyatt-Alcroft from All Grown Up!, Kitty Cheshire from Ever After High, Courtney Gripling from As Told By Ginger, Alexandra Margarita ‘Alex’ Russo from Wizards Of Waverly Place, Princess Aurora from Maleficent, Fa Mulan from Mulan, Brittany Miller from ALVINNN!!! And The Chipmunks, Bessie Higgenbottom from The Mighty B!, Amelia Collins from All Grown Up!, Camille Le Haut from Leap! / Ballerina, Nicole Boscarelli from All Grown Up!, Rose/Huntsgirl from American Dragon: Jake Long, Wally Ramone from All Grown Up!, Olivia from All Grown Up!, Yo from Fanboy & Chum Chum, Molly from The Fairly OddParents, Maddie Van Pelt from Every Witch Way, Dawn Harper from Nicky, Ricky, Dicky, & Dawn, Maddie Fitzpatrick from The Suite Life Of Zack & Cody, Trina Vega from Victorious, Charlene McKinnon from Harry Potter, and Blueberry Muffin from Strawberry Shortcake’s Berry Bitty Adventures.

#f.f.:starterscalls

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athingthatwantsvirginia · 4 years

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King’s a Hack

PART SIX OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: mentions of migraines, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 4K

Summary: On a night at home with a stress-induced migraine, Ella is surprised when Jess shows up. The next morning, Ella goes on one of her occasional pie baking kicks.

A throbbing pulse behind her eyes, Ella trudged through the balmy morning to the diner. The history textbook was weighing down her shoulders. April and the air was finally warming, though the morning still had a frosty quality about it. The sunlight was bright but she could still see her breath in white clouds before her. Stepping into the cozy air of the diner, the aroma of coffee hit her right away and made her stomach do a flip. She could work there a hundred years and never get used to it. Coupled with the smell, the place was the loudest she had ever heard it. Drywall was falling in random chunks from the ceiling, men in hardhats strolling back and forth out of a plastic sheet. She’d forgotten about the demolition project Luke had started two days ago after taking a sledgehammer to a wall in the apartment. For a moment, she regretted walking in, but ignored it and took a seat at the counter. Immediately, she dropped her bag to the ground and laid her head on her arms crossed before her.

“Hey, Ella, what can I get for ya?” she heard Luke ask through the commotion.

She lifted her head again, blowing hair away from her face. “Green tea, please.”

Luke’s face fell a little bit. “Oh.”

“What’s wrong, Uncle dearest?” Jess asked, coming up to Luke’s side with a hardhat on his head and an umbrella in hand.

“Nothing,” Ella grumbled, shrugging off her coat.

“Oooo, that’s not a happy face,” Jess teased, observing the pout on her lips and the stormy look in her eyes. Jess gave her the umbrella and she took it reluctantly, then understood as the ceiling fell above her in dusty pieces.

Luke sighed at Jess’s tone, a wiseass as he always was, and put the tea on. “She ordered green tea.”

Jess scoffed. “And?”

“Ella only orders green tea when she has a migraine,” Luke explained.

Ella rolled her eyes. “I do not.”

“Really? How ya feelin’ right now?” Luke asked haughtily, a knowing smile on his face.

Groaning, Ella brought her head back down on her arm dramatically. “I stand corrected.” Her voice was muffled by the sleeves of her sweater.

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. You’re just so insanely unpredictable, honey,” Jess quipped.

As she sipped her tea, the construction and life swirling around her, Ella felt dread for the day ahead building up. It wasn’t often she got migraines, but when she did, she tried her best to power through them. School was bearable when she pretended to be looking down at her notes while actually sleeping. The muscles in the back of her neck were stiff and her head ached with the beat of her heart, but the tea was helping slightly. Lorelai and Rory blew in with their usual brand of chattiness. On a normal morning, it would have lifted her spirits. Instead, she was largely silent as Lorelai relayed the story of how she sliced her hand while trying to clean her gutters. Ella perked up as the tale ended.

“Why’d you try to clean them yourself?” she asked, brows furrowed. She had been cleaning the Gilmore gutters since she had started high school. Her father had taught her when she was a child, as she liked the thrill of the height.

Lorelai shot her a guilty glance. “Well, you were working last night and they were overflowing when it rained last week and I just thought...yeah. It was a lost cause to begin with.”

“Well, I can come by tonight before my shift-”

“Ah!” Luke stopped her, his hand up. “Don’t even think about it. Just stay home tonight, you don’t have to come in.”

“What?” she asked, exasperated. “My family’s at a reunion, I have pretty much no homework. I’m fine! I can work!”

“Wow. How convincing,” Jess deadpanned from his spot on the stool by the kitchen door, observing the exchange.

“What’s wrong?” Rory asked, searching Ella for something amiss.

“Green tea. Need I say more?” Luke said.

Lorelai looked over at Ella sympathetically, reaching to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Your head again?”

“It’s not that bad! What about your gutters?” Ella reasoned. Without work to fill her time, she imagined she might spend the night in her lonely house clutching her forehead. Not an ideal evening. Even with a headache, work at Luke’s was better than a second in her house, filled with the ghost of her mother.

“Don’t worry. Jess’ll do it,” Luke said off-handedly, tossing a glance over his shoulder to his nephew.

Jess’s eyes widened and he got up from his seat. “Jess will do what?”

“Clean the gutters. Right, Lorelai?” Luke raised his eyebrows expectantly at Lorelai, who faltered under his look and then nodded after a hesitant moment.

“Sure. Jess will clean our gutters.” Lorelai swallowed dryly.

“Instead of scraping the plates you’ll be scraping the gutters,” Luke said to Jess, making a fresh batch of coffee as he spoke. “Height is the only difference. You’ll get paid either way. Just go this afternoon before the dinner shift.”

“Yeah, we’d love for you to do your Breakfast Club routine from our roof,” Lorelai said. Of all the people in Stars Hollow, she may have been the person who hated Jess the most. Rory had spoken volumes to Ella about the disappearing act Jess had pulled the first time he was invited over for dinner at the Gilmore house. “C’mon, Bender, give us a fist bump!”

Jess scoffed and rolled his eyes. He looked to Ella pointedly as she finished off her tea. “You just had to go and get sick, didn’t you?”

“I’m not sick, jackass!” she exclaimed, the sound of her own voice echoing painfully in her ears. She looked around at the group, each person watching her doubtfully. “And all of this is unnecessary. Because I’m fine! Like I said!”

Jess shook his head and took a peek down at his watch. “Don’t wear yourself out. We gotta get to school. You comin’ or takin’ a sick day?”

“Shut up,” she hissed. Gathering up her stuff, Ella saw Jess slip on his own jacket and carry nothing but a novel in his back pocket as school supplies. She led the way with irritated footsteps, dodging the powdered ceiling which fell all around.

Taking off his hard hat and light on his feet as he tried to catch up with Ella, Jess shot Luke one last smirk. “She’s a joy, isn’t she?”

. . .

With the lights dimmed, Ella watched as Carrie White’s powers grew with every passing minute. The house was quiet, almost peaceful, as the night fell. Clouds obscured the view of the full moon, but a few stars could still be made out against the indigo canvas of the sky. She laid with a thin afghan splayed over her, a cool washcloth against her forehead. Three horror movies in, and she was starting to feel a bit of cabin fever already. It occurred to her how little time she spent in the living room anymore. Apart from her bedroom at night, the house was practically foreign. She knew her way around the cabinets at the diner than she did in her own kitchen. Besides, Fiona had rearranged everything when she moved in. The little blue house was no longer the one she grew up in. Just as she was dozing off, a soft knock sounded at the door. Sighing through her nose, she threw the blanket and the washcloth aside, making her way over to the front.

Furrowing her brows, Ella saw Jess standing with his usual smirk and a box of food in his arms. “Um...hey?”

“Delivery.”

A suspicious smile crossed her face. “Excuse me?”

“Well, since tonight you’re all alone and sick-”

“Not sick,” she interjected. “I don’t need rescuing.” Jess barely paused, his smile growing.

“Luke figured you might not have any food in the house, so he sent over a care package,” Jess explained, gesturing down to the box, which contained at least two large paper bags with the Luke’s logo across the front.

Ella scoffed. “But I’m fine.”

“‘I’m fine.’ My god, you’re like a broken record today,” Jess remarked. “Where should I put this?”

“I-”

“Kitchen?” he asked, then brushed past her through the doorway, immediately in the small living room. He noted there was only one light on in the whole space, illuminating everything in a low golden glow. A blue haze emanated from the TV screen, paused on a frame of ‘70s Sissy Spacek. He stopped short, looking back to Ella for guidance, where she still stood slightly dazed in the doorway.

Clearing her throat and blinking once in surprise, she shut the large white door behind her and pointed past the living room, through the open space in the wall overlooking the kitchen. “Yeah, kitchen’s fine. Right through there.”

She followed him in, flipping on the light switch and wincing at the sudden flash before her eyes. Trying not to let the twinge in her head show, she steadied herself on the door frame before walking on. Ella watched as he began unpacking the box’s content. There were bags full of fries, burgers, salads, sandwiches. Along with the greasy amenities, she saw a huge container of green tea bags. A fond smirk passed across her lips, then fell again when she remembered Jess had randomly shown up at her house.

“Jesus, how many people did he think I needed to feed?”

“Well, maybe that cat of yours can put some of this away.” Jess shrugged in disinterest, not meeting her eyes as he spoke. “Luke didn’t know how long your family was gone, so he wanted you taken care of.”

Ella shook her head, though good-naturedly. “I’m only alone for a couple days. He means well but does he ever tire of his overprotection?”

“Not likely.”

She chuckled a little, though her heart wasn’t in it. The pain was back in her head after standing up, and it made her dizzy. Without thinking, she took a seat in one of the rickety kitchen chairs. The kitchen was dated, with a scheme of peach and white that became almost blinding in the daylight. The small, circular table rocked slightly, on uneven legs. It had been there since before Ella was born, though, so she hardly even noticed it.

Jess raised an eyebrow when she sat down abruptly. “I’d ask if you’re okay, but I doubt I’d get a truthful response.”

“Are you calling me a liar, Mariano?” she asked in mock offense.

“Yeah. And not a very good one.”

She uttered a weak laugh. “You underestimate me.” Then, after a beat: “Why didn’t Caesar or someone bring this over?”

“I volunteered.”

“Why?”

“I just wanted to get outta the construction zone,” Jess explained, a ranting tone in his voice. “There’s nothing but banging and yelling. Place gives me a headache.”

She scrunched her nose up at the word. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted to come over here and get a glimpse of this pretty face.”

Jess snorted, though she thought she saw a slight flicker of something across his expression. “Right. I think I get enough at work, thank you very much.”

“Don’t feel bad. Lots of people get intimidated by my level of perfection. Can only handle me in small increments,” she joked tiredly, her chin propped up on one hand.

Finally, he had unpacked everything in a box and stood over it, facing her. After a moment, she realized they’d been looking but not talking, and she brought her eyes down to the food on the table.

Clearing her throat, she ventured another glance at him, her courage returning. “So, are you just gonna stand there the rest of the night, or…?”

Again, Jess shrugged. “Well, you didn’t give me my tip.”

Ella snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mariano. Service is not your strong suit on your best day.”

“Well, if you refuse to give me money, I’ll settle on a fry or two,” he offered, his face amused with the negotiations.

She sighed, a smile of disbelief on her lips. For a moment she thought, and decided she had been wishing for some company all night. Why not Jess? “Be my guest,” she said, motioning to the chair across from her. “You’re not the worst person who could have walked in, I suppose.”

A satisfied grin flashed on Jess’s face and he shrugged off his jean jacket, hanging it on the back of the chair. “What a model hostess.”

“Shut up. Overstay one minute of your welcome and you’re outta here,” she warned, opening up the fries and reaching for a few. She watched as Jess made the salt and pepper dip. On slow days or while closing up the diner, she’d seen him make the condiment a few times. It was pretty fucking good.

Jess scoffed. “In your condition? I doubt you could take me.”

Raising her eyebrows, Ella shot him a look. “Try me.”

“Alright, I’m duly warned,” he said, surrendering.

As she got settled with her food, Jess let his eyes roam over the room. He’d never seen anywhere in her house other than her bedroom at the end of the hall. The peach kitchen felt homey and lived-in. By the kitchen sink, there was a witch hanging on a wall hook. White lace curtains hung over the windows. The fridge was covered with photos and magnets, some of them faded with age. Then, his eyes arrived back on Ella. She reached behind her, opening a cabinet and retrieving silverware and plates. Jess muttered a thanks as she passed him some. He shook his head when she offered him a drink. When she got back to her seat, she began arranging her food neatly on the plate. Jess bit back a laugh, almost expecting the behavior. Her blonde hair was down, slightly disheveled though she had tucked it behind her ears. She had on the same Beetlejuice t-shirt and blue jeans she’d worn at school. It was odd to see her slightly placated, less stressed than she was at the diner. When she looked back up at him, he caught a glance at the redness in her hazel eyes. Had he woken her up? A pang of guilt hit him, but he felt silly so he brushed it off.

“So, how was cleaning the Gilmore gutters?” she asked, munching on a fry.

“Nice alliteration.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Go on.”

He shrugged. “It was alright. Lorelai gave me some Chinese food. We made small talk. Sort of.”

“Awww, look at that. Jess is acquiring people skills,” she mocked.

“Shut up,” Jess snapped, face contorted in irritation.

Ella laughed. She spotted a pickle on the side of his plate and snagged it from him. Though he narrowed his eyes at her, he said nothing in protest. “Why’d you talk to Lorelai anyway? I thought you guys had a long-standing feud?”

Jess shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s Luke’s friend and she helps you out and...Rory asked me to put in a little effort.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” she smiled suspiciously. “Just...listening to directives from others. Not exactly your style, is it?”

“Alright,” he said with finality, straightening up in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “Out with it.”

Ella scoffed. “Well, are you into Rory or something? Seems like you’re pretty open to her opinions.”

He shook his head, his expression unreadable. “Please. Like I’d fall for the resident princess of Stars Hollow.”

“I don’t know. You’ve got similar literary tastes, or lack thereof. At least she has the decency to recognize Hemingway’s inferiority,” she explained, not meeting his eyes and taking a bite of burger after she finished talking.

Jess let out a small sigh and his smirk came to his lips again. “Y’know, Ernest only has lovely things to say about you.”

She giggled. “I doubt that very much.”

A slight tension filled the air before Ella spoke again.

“Look, all I’m saying is, you hate her boyfriend, you’ve got that Holden Caulfield thing going for you. Wouldn’t be the worst coupling in the world.”

“Such high praise. What’s it to you, anyway?” he asked, getting a little defensive. She couldn’t tell whether it was because the idea appealed to him or repulsed him.

She shook her head, her voice light. “Sorry, I don’t mean-” She stopped to sigh, then began again: “Okay, you can’t speak a word of this to anyone or I’ll personally castrate you.”

Jess’s eyes widened at the mock threat, chuckling. “Okay, well I gotta hear this.”

“I hate Dean.”

He gasped, bringing a hand to his heart in teasing surprise. “I’m shocked. Not good enough for our perfect Rory?”

“He’s just...he at least needs to give her some fucking space sometimes,” she sighed. At that moment, her headache shot up her neck and behind her eyes again in a flash of pain. Despite her best try, she couldn’t hide her grimace.

Jess regarded her momentarily. “How’s your head?”

“I’ll survive,” she said, her face guarded.

“You get them a lot?” he asked, trying to keep his voice casual.

Clearing her throat, she swallowed another mouthful of burger and shook her head gently. “Not really. Just every couple months since...uh since my mom and everything. Doctor says it’s a normal stress response or something.”

Humming in acknowledgement, Jess’s eyes flicked to the TV through the opening in the wall to the living room. “Carrie, huh?”

A look of slight relief washed over her, and the small smile returned to her lips. “Yeah. I go on Stephen King binges when I’m not feeling like myself.”

Jess’s brows furrowed and he scoffed. “Why?”

“Because they remind me just how much worse my life could be. Especially if the supernatural got involved,” she explained.

He chuckled a little and raised a doubtful eyebrow. “King’s a hack, y’know. Totally bloated prose.”

“His books are entertaining, what can I say? And I’ve learned so much about the state of Maine reading them.”

“I am so disappointed in you, Eleanor Stevens,” he groaned amiably.

She only shrugged. “Hey, you have your vices, I have mine.” Then, she glanced back over her shoulder and suddenly began gathering up her food. “C’mon, we’re just getting to the good part. The prom massacre awaits for our viewing pleasure.”

Jess smiled, watching her go as he picked up his own food, then joining her on the tattered green couch.

. . .

As he descended the stairs, the smells of nutmeg and apple hit Jess in the face. The aroma was not unwelcome, his empty stomach growling, but he thought it odd. Luke didn’t bake very often, and almost never at seven o’clock on a Saturday morning. Jess would’ve slept in later, but the hunger and his sleep schedule for school had forced him from his twin bed. They didn’t open for another hour, late on Saturdays with less people up so early for work. Jess ran a hand through his messy hair and found Luke taking down the chairs as he passed through the curtain at the bottom of the stairs and entered the diner.

“Are you makin’ somethin’?” he asked his uncle groggily, immediately stealing a donut from under one of the glass domes on the main counter.

Luke shook his head and sighed. “Not me. It’s the pie psycho back there.”

“I told you not to call me that!” Jess heard Ella call from the kitchen.

Grunting in annoyance, Luke rolled his eyes. “This is a sickness, Ella! It’s an unhealthy obsession!”

Blowing a piece of hair from her eyes, Ella emerged from the kitchen into the dim morning light of the diner. “It’s a hobby!”

“What the hell’s going on?” Jess chimed in, a hint of a laugh in his voice. He regarded Ella. Her hair was pulled back again. Streaks of flour painted her pale face and she wiped her hands on the full apron she wore over her simple dress. He snorted and sat down at a stool across from where she stood, her forearms leaned on the counter. “Looks like you’re feelin’ better.”

“Much,” she nodded, a smile gracing her face. A sudden bell sounded and she rushed back into the kitchen. When she came out again a moment later, she held a pie, steaming in her potholder-clad hands. “And I have pie.”

Pursing his lips, Jess nodded in simple recognition. “I can see that.”

“You showed up at six o’clock, unannounced, to make pies without being asked,” Luke exclaimed in exasperation, gesturing in irritation with the rag in his hand. “Just like last summer!”

“Last summer?” Jess asked.

“Every week, she shows up, early hours of the morning, with random pie supplies-”

“And we sold every slice! You get up at four in the morning anyway!” Ella piped up defensively. “We’ve got this apple and then in-” she paused to look at the clock, “ten minutes we’ll have a pumpkin and a pecan!”

Luke groaned, throwing his head back dramatically before returning to his work. “You’re incorrigible!”

“Nice. Five cent word,” she quipped.

Shaking his head, Jess laughed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Last night you’re like a zombie and now you’re the crazy pie lady.”

“I’m multi-faceted,” she said distractedly, crouched behind the counter as she straightened various folded napkins and silverware.

“That’s one word for it,” Jess grumbled, and had to duck to avoid the crumpled napkin Ella launched at him in retaliation.

Ella popped up again from behind the counter, blowing out a satisfied breath. “I just figured I should do something nice for you, Luke. As a thank you for the care package last night.”

Jess’s eyes widened marginally and his back straightened.

Brows furrowing, Luke tilted his head at Ella. “What care package?”

“The one Jess-”

“Hey, Luke, I think I heard the raccoons getting in the trash again this morning,” Jess said hastily.

Luke groaned. Lumbering into the back without another glance at either of the two teenagers, he muttered a final “Dammit!” before disappearing from view.

Slowly, Ella turned back to Jess with a knowing smirk on her lips. Crossing her arms, she leaned on the counter across from him again and raised her eyebrows expectantly.

“What?” Jess snapped defensively.

“Well, aren’t you a fine, upstanding young member of the Stars Hollow community.”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“You wanted me taken care of because my family was gone and I had a headache,” she prodded, watching as a flush reddened Jess’s cheeks and he squirmed nervously under her eyes.

“Aren’t you gonna burn your pies standing out here?” he asked, deflecting.

She shook her head nonchalantly. “No, they’ve still got a while. You’re blushing, Mariano.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, this is fun. This is very fun,” she teased, watching him grow more uncomfortable by the second.

“Oh yeah?” Jess asked testily, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I’d say.” Then, after a moment, she stood up again and sighed, grabbing the pie knife from under the counter. “Thank you, Jess. That was very nice of you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he said, still feigning confusion.

She scoffed, then began slicing the pie, still warm but no longer hot to the level of tongue-burning. “Whatever, tough guy. You want some pie?”

“For breakfast?” he asked, chuckling in a little in relief as she dropped the previous subject. Butterflies of embarrassment still fluttered around in his stomach.

“It’s Saturday. There are no rules. Besides, my pies are legendary.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Jess told her, eyes lingering on Ella when she turned away. A smile blossomed on her face.

#jess mariano imagines #jess mariano imagine #jess mariano one shot #jess mariano one shots #jess mariano #jess #mariano #gilmore girls #jess mariano x oc #gilmore girls fanfiction #gilmore girls imagines #jess mariano x original character #luke danes #lorelai gilmore #rory gilmore #original character #original character stories

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hollow-indigo · 5 months

Text

WHEN THE GASTER IS COZY

BOTTOM TEXT

fun facts as usual

His sweater is a poison-type themed pokémon sweater that Alphys got for him on giftmas. He just likes it because he thinks the pattern is neat. He does not know what pokémon is.

He’s better at working alone than with people, but won’t complain if he needs to, he’ll just not be the best at communication.

He supports his children as much as he physically can.

He used to have a bad habit of smoking, with his children’s help and support, he instead blows bubbles when he’s stressed and needs a break.

He often checks on Chara and Frisk to make sure there’s no severe complications with each only having half a soul, and to make sure the flowers growing from Chara aren’t causing too much issue.

not glazed yet

#hollow indigo #undertale #undertale au #undertale oc #indigo’s cozy!tale #indigo’s refs #Gaster undertale #undertale gaster #this is probably the first time i’ve drawn a gaster who cares about his children honestly #this gaster is just a dork tbh #big ol nerd #and we love him for it #he’s also the type to 100% fall for every “updog” “deez nuts” etc type joke #I only added the pokémon details on the sweater bc I thought his design looked too boring for a cozytale character #speaking of cozytale of course #guess who’s making another spotify playlist-#i’ve been meaning to make better art for the spotify playlist’s tbh #because I wanna do something similar to the thing Darkyxsoulzyxcaliber did (not sure if that’s what their username is spelled like-(#really cool artist btw #their “blue and the bad sanses” comic inspires a lot of my interpretations of characters and such #including dream #you’d know if you’ve read the comic #I hope this is enough tags to prompt the “see more/see all” tags thing…#secret spoiler-ish fact: … he doesn’t only have 2 children. there will be more.

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zer0pm · 5 years

Text

No Name (Part 2/?)

Pairing: (V x Fem!Reader)

The reader brings the mysterious man back home with her. As she tries to find him some clothes, she asks questions about him. It seems with each answer he offers her, the more mysterious he appears.

You had a strange man in your home. A strange man you invited. A strange man who up until now was as naked as the day he was born.

The mysterious No Name.

After finding him on the streets, witnessing him scaring away some undesirables, you took him back to your place and offered him shelter...along with some clothes. You had a cozy little house atop a hill right at the edge of the city, isolated where you knew you wouldn’t be disturbed. It may seem unwise considering that the man you volunteered to help was a walking enigma and apparently capable of summoning demons at will, but you had faith in your own skills to watch out for yourself. Plus, the man didn’t seem like a threat to you despite the evidence that suggested otherwise, proven by his silent yet courteous demeanor as you two walked together. You can tell that he was considerate in keeping his distance from your person so as not to frighten you. Then again, the man hardly spoke much at all as you went along, but it didn’t feel awkward.

You were now preparing food for your new guest and then some, hearing the slight shuffling from within the restroom next to your kitchen.

You: “How are you coming along, No Name?”

No Name: “Well enough.”

By the sound of the door opening and footsteps approaching, you turn to look him over. You were relieved that the mysterious man finally had some clothes on his back. Not that he isn’t good-looking, you admit that he most certainly is, but you didn’t think you can handle engaging him in his bare state. He wore black sweats and a shortsleeve v-cut shirt that showed the impressive tattoos on his long arms as well as a bit of the printed ink on his neck and collarbone. You gathered then that the man preferred dark colors. When he made his way across the kitchen towards the small dining table you noticed the clothes were sagging a bit, revealing a bit of his skin here and there. The man subtly tries to adjust the shirt and you could not help but giggle.

You: “Sorry, they’re a little big on you.”

No Name: “It is fine. I gather your lover would not mind me borrowing his clothing for the night?”

You nearly dropped the plates when he said this, a blush creeping on your cheeks in embarrassment.

You: “A-Ah, no, no! I don’t have a boyfriend. They belonged to a friend that forgot them and never bothered to get them back.”

Your idiot friend... To this day, you were still annoyed with that particular part of your past but did not wish to bring it up if your guess didn’t ask. No Name, still so weird to refer to him as such, raises his brow curiously.

No Name: “You live here by yourself, then?”

You: “I do.”

No Name: “Hm.”

He takes a moment to take in his surroundings. His eyes skimming over the furnishings of your kitchen. You didn’t have the fanciest home in Red Grave city, but you kept it clean and maintained.

No Name: “You have a nice home.”

You laugh lightly at his attempt to be polite.

You: “Ha, thanks.”

You finish putting the food together and gather the plates in your hands before walking over to the table. One plate is set in front of No Name; the other, across from him where you would be sitting; and the last, on the tiled floor next to the table. He seemed confused at this.

You: “For your cat friend. I don’t know if it eats.”

Realization in his eyes, the man extends his arm outwards and from the ink on his exposed skin, particles of black burst forth and took shape, morphing into the familiar feline-like demon from before. The creature glances around, it appears to be searching for threats and looked puzzled when it found none.

No Name silently pats the demon on its head before pointing down at the offered food you placed before it. It nuzzles into its master’s hand then lies on its belly, dipping its head towards the plate and digging in graciously. You smile at hearing the sound of light purring from the demon panther. Pulling back your chair, you took your seat across from No Name who nodded to you.

No Name: “My thanks.”

You: “It’s nothing. Sorry, I wasn’t sure if the...the other one eats too. The rock thing.”

No Name: “Ah, that one. No.”

The man lays the back of his hand against the tabletop, his palm open upwards. Purple smoke and dusts of light gather in his hand before a small form begins to take shape. You recognize it immediately, the frightening golem, only this time it is significantly smaller. You would have mistaken it for a toy had it not started moving on its own, taking tiny steps atop the wooden surface. It was both fascinating and...kind of cute.

You carefully offer a finger towards the pint-sized demon and the creature looks upon it with its single eye. It stretches out one of its arms, touching the tip of your finger. The demon possessed surprising strength despite its size as you felt your finger move up and down in sync with its arm. It was shaking hands with you!

You: “Wow!”

No Name, who was watching your interaction, smiled slightly.

No Name: “It likes you.”

You: “You can tell?”

No Name: “No, but call it a feeling.”

???: “Hey, hey! Where’s my meal? Rude!”

The sudden sound of a loud, unfamiliar voice nearly made you jump out of your seat. Seemingly from thin air, a large blue bird appears in your kitchen. Like the panther and the golem demon, the avian creature looked imposing with glowing eyes and sharp claws and teeth.

You: “What is that now?!”

???: “What does it look like, dollface? I’m a demon, one of pretty boy’s familiars. The brains of our little group. Although, if you ask me personally, I’m more like his partner-in-crime. Ekekeke! So don’t go calling me his pet! Got it?”

The mouth on this one! You can see No Name pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed shut. It appears the man was dreading for this one to present itself and you figured that the demon did not come out by his choice.

No Name: “You’ll have to excuse Griffon. When it comes to conversation, he lacks tact.”

The feathery demon flaps his indigo wings in offense and retaliates by snatching his master’s plate in his talons before flying off to the far side of the kitchen much to your protest. Griffon, as your guest calls him, sets the food down, chuckling mischievously before devouring the food voraciously. You can hear the unattractive sound of his tongue swiping along his beak.

Griffon: “Mmm, mmm! That’s good shit!”

You: “Uhh....thanks?”

Admittedly, you were dumbfounded. How many demons does this guy have?! You have met talking demons before, but they looked...human. This was your first encounter with one that didn’t look like one, sparking your curiosity and wary. You glance over at the tattooed gentleman.

You: “Are you a demon?”

No Name: “...No.”

The mouthy bird snorts.

Griffon: “This guy? Nah, too much of a sissy to be a demon. Hell, I even bet my feathers that you can flip him over the table in a fight. Hahaha!”

You: “Uhh, that’s okay. I’ll pass on people-flipping today.”

The bird demon cackles humorously. You see that the panther demon curled itself into a ball next to No Name’s feet and the small rock-like demon was climbing up its masters arm, settling itself on his shoulder. No Name didn’t seem to mind this one bit, nor did he seem annoyed by his food being absconded away. Throwing caution to the wind, you figured now was a good a time as any for questions.

You: “So you’re a human that can summon demons?”

No Name: “Correct.”

You: “That’s not possible. How does that work?”

You almost bit your tongue, but No Name did not seem to notice this. He seems to ponder this considerably.

No Name: “It’s...complicated.”

You: “Complicated, how?”

Griffon: “Sheesh! The beak on this one.”

With a burp, the blue bird flies back over to the table, landing between you and No Name. His beady eyes leering at you as if trying to use his stare to pierce you. He stretches his feathery neck, lunging his head forward, invading your personal space. You can still see remnants of your cooking on its protruding teeth.

Griffon: “Listen, sweetie. As much as we’d like to regale you with our epic tale, we got other things to worry about. No offense, thanks for the food and looking out for the guy, but trust me when I say, the less you know, the better.”

No Name suddenly grabs the neck of his avian familiar and pulls him away from you.

No Name: “Griffon, be nice to our host.”

With a warning squeeze, the man releases the bird and the bird stretches out his neck from the pain, mumbling an apology under his breath that you almost missed.

You: “You do have a story, then?”

No Name: “Story?”

You: “Yeah. Aside from the whole demon-summoning thing, there’s no way you left wherever you came from...well...”

No Name: “Naked?”

You: “Y-Yeah.”

For some reason when he said this, a slight blush burned its way to your cheeks. It’s not like you’re a virgin, but you were trying your hardest not to focus on the image of his bare form again. Griffon must have caught sight of your expression as he whistled teasingly. You’re not sure how he did that. No Name spares another warning glance to his avian companion before answering.

No Name: “The truth of the matter is: I did.”

You: “...Why?”

No Name: “It...just turned out that way.”

That’s another rather vague and very hard to believe answer, but by the tone of his voice, you can tell there was some truth in his words. You knew the tattooed man was having a bit of difficulty trying to explain himself. His feathery friend didn’t seem prone to clarify for him either which didn’t help you much at all. He had no reason to tell you anything really, but the fact that he was speaking to you at all spoke volumes of how amicable he was with you. Still, curiosity was nagging your mind. Were they not talking because they were trying to be considerate? Or did they have malicious intent to hide? They didn’t seem like a bad group, you can tell. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have let No Name in. You shook your head. You really have to think of a better name for this guy.

You: “Sooo...you were wandering the streets looking for, what, the nearest clothing store?”

This earned a chuckle from the man. The raspy sound of the laugh in his throat sent vibrations down your spine.

No Name: “It was on my list of things to do. Pardon me for my lack of modesty at the time. It is a sight no lady should need to suffer.”

Beg to differ. You snorted unintentionally. He’s really sticking with the whole eloquent, mysterious gentleman schtick. It was endearing. Different. And it caught you off-guard.

You: “I’m not a lady.”

He looks up at you from his hooded eyes, a ghost of a smirk on the edge of his plump lips.

No Name: “Quite the contrary. You are every bit as such. And a fine one at that.”

The blush you had earlier has returned and grew hotter, rendering you unsure of how to respond. You settled with looking down at your plate and realized that he never had a chance to bite into his food before Griffon stole it from him. Playing the good hostess, you push your plate towards him, the man seemed taken aback by your gesture.

You: “I’m not that hungry. Figured I should get your room ready, anyways.”

No Name: “You’re letting me stay the night?”

The dubious tone in his voice caught the attention of companions. The bird nearly choked, the panther seemed to have woken up from its cat nap to glance up at you, and the little rock monster nearly fell from where it perched although the last one was mostly due to No Name’s sudden movement in sitting straight.

You: “Well, yeah. I invited you, it’s too late and dangerous outside right now to kick you out what with the demons running about.”

Although it was true, you knew that this man was more than capable of looking after his own given that he has three demons under his command. But he was interesting and he seemed kind and, dare you say, even lost. That alone compelled you to welcome him in.

He was gazing into your eyes intensely, searching for any foul play hidden within them and you met his stare in turn. No Name had such beautiful green eyes. It was almost unfair and you were not sure if you would have been able to look into them any longer without embarrassing yourself further. Luckily, he dropped his gaze from yours, breaking your waning daze. You felt your heartbeat slowing, not realizing that it had picked up so quickly.

No Name: “It seems my debt to you grows. You have my-”

He spares a glance over his familiars who each waited for him to continue, a silent acknowledgement between them.

No Name: “-our deepest gratitude.”

Moved by the sincerity in his voice, you smiled at him.

You: “It’s no problem.”

With that, you rise to stand from your seat and moved to prepare the guest room but a firm hold on your wrist stops you. Taken by surprise, it is the tattooed man whose long fingers wrapped around your wrist. His grip wasn’t tight, but it alarmed you all the same as it was the first real physical contact between you two aside from when his skin brushed against yours when you offered him your jacket earlier. His skin was unbelievably warm and you felt the heat crawling up your arm, caressing your neck. No Name seems to have realized the sudden invasion on your person and withdrew his hand from you, clearing his throat to divert attention away from what he did.

No Name: “The portions are too much for me. “Not that hungry” suggests there is some hunger. Do not starve yourself on my behalf. We can share.”

He wasn’t looking at you as he said this but you swore you could see a slight tinge of pink on his cheeks. You were considering telling him that it was alright but your stomach chose that moment to betray you by releasing a loud rumbling sound.

You: “W-Well, since you offered!”

You quickly return to your seat and pick up your utensils, scooping a good amount onto your fork. You take a bite. As you were chewing, you remembered something and felt yourself blushing furiously for the umpteenth time.

You: “Ah, damn! Let me get you another plate.”

He stops you again, this time not holding you to stay with his touch but instead he picks up his own fork and knife, cutting into the food and raising a small portion to his lips. No Name bites into his food, chewing graciously. His mouth was closed so you can see the way that his lips and jaw moved as he ate, the way the apple of his throat dipped as he swallowed. You found yourself gulping at the sight.

No Name: “This is delicious.”

He continues to eat from his side of the plate. This time, you did bother to hide your staring. You observed him. Intently. You do not know this man. This stranger. But you invited him into your home. And shared with him your food. Gave him clothes. He had a story, one he was not willing to tell. He was a stranger. And he was dangerous. Yet you found yourself curious about him all the same. You followed his example and digged into the food. It tasted better than you thought even though you’ve always made this particular dish the same way. As you two were eating together silently, not once did you notice that his three familiars returned to him in ink.

#v devil may cry #v dmc5 #v x you #v x reader #devil may cry 5 #no name #long post #vitale #vitale x you #vitale x reader #sorry for the super slow burn #but itll be worth it #i promise #my writing #next part should be where you call him v 😏

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talesofealdancynedom · 3 years

Text

Tale 21: What The Wagon Was For (3/8)

Tale 21: What The Wagon Was For (chapter 3 - Family Recipe 3/8 ) part 6. Stories of wizards

none

Fairies are by far Morgan’s favourite. Particularly Naiads. Of course, he loved all magic; But something about fairies appealed to him. The glittering ice, pastel aesthetic, and the radiant portrayals of them in art. They could transmute, learn, and had the most human form of all fey. They had a special smile when they felt joy; Closing their eyes to put on a rosy checked doll like expression. Fairies also wielded the most powerful elemental and healing magics. They are easily befriended, and very helpful to humans that they are fond of. The Fairy King made her children for one simple reason; Befriending humans. Even their appearance and nature, was enticing and cheerful. They contained ignorant bliss, and ambiguous morality; Like they were trying, but still didn’t understand humanity; Yet, very badly wanted to. Lastly, they were the fey that got infatuated the most often, and their love requited because of their human forms. The most convincedly human, are the nymphs; The embodiments of nature.

Morgan’s first encounter with fey was with the Theamen River nymphs, at the city zoo. He was too young for school then. It startied his magic journey. Fey didn’t judge him, or hurt him. They talked with him politely, and shared kind greetings and smiles. Particularly once he learned Elden Anglian. Morgan’s first fey friend was a wolf prince, Eobreth, and his second mentor was a fountain nymph. Morgan nearly feinted at the sight of such a rarity, living indistinguishable from an ordinary man. Where ever Morgan wandered, there was fey; And every fey, was a friend.

After his first visit to the Shadow Veil, Morgan lusted for more. Coming home, he realized how scary and overwhelming his life was. He had forgotten what it was like to have fun, enjoy learning, and feel safe. Luckily, his parents didn’t find out about his most recent spell experiments. To be extra sure, he ate dinner so they wouldn’t worry. At dinner, Morgan’s mother and father said they were going on an anniversary vacation to the countryside. Morgan dropped his fork; He was going to stay with his grandmother. For a whole week.

Though grandfather’s magic garden reminded his parents of their father’s passing; It reminded grandmother of her true love. Grampa Patrick loved magic, and was sweet, silly and kind to everything. That sort of charisma is rare. His death in the line of duty was a tragedy, and a great loss to Morgan’s family. It gave them a mistrust of magic. Thus, Morgan’s mother, Icthya, kept her one and only miracle child away form magic. But there was also grandpa’s garden. For the Calci Tree, Whist, was a kind fey; Who made Morgan’s wishes came true. She taught Morgan how to speak with fey. Grandmother’s house was a haven, where Morgan could gently observe and study magic, without anyone stopping him. Often, Morgan wondered if his grandmother knew he was a mage, and learning magic, the whole time. Perhaps, she never stopped him because it reminded her of her late husband.

A magic garden full of fey friends wasn’t all that waited for Morgan, in that cozy pastel cottage core Pepperidge home. There was also was baking with his grandmother. Homemade biscuits for the spaniels, and his favourite cookie; soft raspberry thumbprint cookies. His grandmother made Morgan an avid gardener, and baker. Each time he visited, he had injuries. Morgan’s relationship with magic, was second to her suspicions of a troubled home life. She just needed one ounce of proof, to be sure her grandson wasn’t safe.

After a day of baking and gardening, Morgan went to bed early. He slept on the couch in the basement, out of preference. Sometimes he would roll out of the blankets, and his grandmother would tuck him back in. But tonight, Morgan had a nightmare. Unable to go back to sleep, he focused on the only thing that distracted his racing mind: Magic. His visit to the Shadow Veil proved that the Beast Kings liked the same things as their fey children. The Stone King was like a person, and he likes potatoes and games. No different then a friendly troll or tiny goblin. Morgan went into his backpack and found the smooth stone with the rune on it. He put it away. Then he went to the kitchen, and started stuffing his backpack. He brought cookies, dog treats, tea, broken key chains, and then headed to the shed. He grabbed one of his father’s horse brushes, some chalk, candles, and the garden hose. Quietly, Morgan returned to the basement, and drew the candle gate again; he wanted to see the veil once more.

First, Morgan ran to the fairy kingdom. But he soon found out the gate he made went to the Wolf Kingdom. A luck calico came, and starting rubbing his leg. The orange of her patches and red of her collar stood out against the grayscale ether. Morgan gave her a good petting. She was so cute. He then followed her into the woods. In a clearing, Morgan lost track of the cat fey he was following. He looked around. There was a giant rock in the center, and trails going in every direction. He saw the platform of the Wolf Gate; it was also closed, just like the Stone Gate.

“Gud Deigan Mage.” Morgan heard in a growling voice. Looking up to the rock, he saw a giant timber wolf, clad in armour. Morgan’s face lit up. If Eobreth wasn’t a chip off the old block! Morgan bowed before the Wolf King, and introduced himself.

“Wait dear,” a soft voice spoke. “He is hurt. Let me heal him before you play. There is no love like a mother’s love, and no magic as powerful as love. The kiss of a Beast Queen will heal all ailments.” She continued. Morgan turned to his left to see a woman of the Far North, turn into a sizable white wolf. She licked his face, and his scars and bruises vanished.

“Oh. Thanks Wolf Queen?” Morgan inquired.

“Queen Flowen.” She smiled. Morgan hugged her. She was comforting and soft.

“My true love said play! There are my children mage boy,” The Wolf King boomed, looking into the brush. There were two puppies; one silver, one roan, and a grown white Aliki wolf princess.

“Do you want to hunt with us? I smell my eldest son on you! Of course, you want to!” The Wolf King laughed heartily. He was wagging his tail. Morgan was sure wolves couldn’t do that; But they were magic wolves.

“I don’t know about hunting… I don’t like hurting things. But I did bring you something you might like.” Morgan said quietly. He reached into his bag, took out the dog treats he baked, and opened the bag. There was silence as four royal wolves perked up and pointed their ears in his direction. Flowen turned back into her human self, to laugh.

“Do you know fetch? I bet you can catch these in mid air!” Morgan exclaimed.

Morgan looked at the smooth stone he got from the Wolf King. It had the rune Ing on it. For the wolf kingdom he suspected. When he looked up, Morgan noticed he was in a forest of frosted trees. It was like a prettier version of winter. An ice bridge went over a creek, that had nymphs sleeping in it. There were nymphs everywhere; And pixies in the trees. Morgan was in a state of euphoria. The Fairy Kingdom was beyond his wildest dreams. After blacking out from excitement, he woke up on a sparkling lavender bed, in a purple glittering tent. A large woman, of gentle build and icy eyes,with long sunny hair, and a crown of ice was looking at him. Morgan gave her a thumbprint cookie, from his bag.

“A human who is a mage, is giving me a cookie!” She yelled. The Fairy King was the most childlike, innocent, and loving Beast King. She grabbed the biscuit, and ate it. The thumbprint cookie, made with love between a grandmother and grandson, was the best the Fairy King had yet.

“Thankyou!” She smiled.

“No, thank you. For your children. They are good friends.” Morgan smiled, getting up slowly “Sorry for feinting. I do that sometimes.” He whispered. The Fairy King was eating another cookie, her hand gently on her face in endearment. She had that same fairy smile as her children.

“As a mage, would you like fairy robes?” She spoke. She had already started making them, and putting them on Morgan before he could say anything. His pajamas were now protective, enchanted, navy and gold, raven kingdom robes.

Morgan found a stone in his pocket, like the others, with the rune feor on it. Wealth, for the fairy kingdom it is. Heading in no particular direction, Morgan found himself in a dewy vibrant jungle oasis, before gently flowing springs. He had no clue where he was.

“You should go. She doesn’t like company.” Said a South-Central man, smoking a pipe. He mildly resembled a Galada, but with indigo monkey kingdom fairy robes. Morgan’s books sure made him make sense of the place; That must be Monkey Queen. Looking up, Morgan saw a golden baboon sitting upon an iron rod. She was wearing violet monkey robes, hooked with black and gold lotuses. She looked mad.

“Go away,” She snapped. “Me, and my children, like solitude to reflect on our wisdom.” She said in an assertive voice. The Monkey King, though pleased to see a mage in her kingdom, was unhappy to be interacting with someone. Before she finished her reflection, Morgan was on his way out. Fey didn’t have to ask him to do anything. He, like fey, would do anything for a friend. Surprised and amused, the Monkey king threw an apple and a stone at him. The apple tasted like rose water; the stone had the rune for Mann.

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#tales of ealdan cynedom #short stories #fantasy #morgan #icthya #aster #wolf king #eobreth #Flowen #story 21 #Patrick #Monkey king #Fairy King

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leggiamo · 6 years

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Duplicity — Chapter XXVII

Life was quiet. I went to work, I put on a smile for my kids and my coworkers, and at the end of the day, I went home to release the anguish I hid from others. I was waiting for it to get easier, but I wasn’t sure it ever would. I thought that I prepared myself for the moment that it would all end, but evidently, I was nowhere near equipped for the pain.

For something so arbitrary, time has such a funny way of affecting our lives. I waited for it to pass—I needed, just this once, for it to disobey the rules that constrained it and speed up so that this feeling would leave me quicker. I wanted to be able to say that I survived the pain of giving up some of the most important things in my life.

Instead of getting easier, it only seemed to get harder. Days that I spent wondering when the pain would subside accumulated into weeks. Those weeks stacked up into months, and like a relentless downpour, the pain continued to wash over me each time I was alone.

I freed him because he needed to be free. I did the right thing for once and it left me irreparable.

Every night I fell asleep alone, wishing I could reach out and touch the empty space beside me and he would suddenly be there. I missed his scent lingering in the sheets. I missed waking up in the middle of the night and hearing his quiet snores go uninterrupted as I brushed his hair away from his forehead.

Aside from my demonstrations for the children, I found that I could neither sketch nor paint. Like him, my creativity was gone from my life like he was my muse and kept me going. I used to be able to close my eyes and see shapes and colors that I could transfer to a medium. Now, when I closed my eyes, all I saw were shades of grey and amorphous patches of black.

The color had gone from my beloved city as well. Memories projected like apparitions each time I walked the streets and wound up somewhere familiar. Even on the sunniest days, the city felt cold to me as if it were rejecting me. My home no longer welcomed me.

On the first month, I stopped wearing my rings on a chain when I was in public. By the fourth month, I stopped wearing my rings before I went to bed. They were safely tucked away in a jewelry box when I realized the only way it would get easier was if I learned to let go completely. My pity parties would have to stop.

And, so, when October came around, I finally accepted Joan’s offer to join him for a night out. Joan was tall and never let his red beard grow beyond stubble. Something about his slightly crooked front tooth made his smile seem charming yet familiar. I liked him because he was passionate about his work and didn’t try to get a scoop about my highly publicized.

“Oh,” he breathed once the door opened. “Wow.”

I chuckled before biting down on my lip with a smile. “What is it?”

“You are… I thought I had seen beauty in the world before now but I was wrong.”

“Oh, shut up,” I laughed. “I just need to grab a couple of things and I’ll be ready.”

I guided him into the small sitting area I called a living room. It took time to find this cozy little place. After that day, I didn’t move out immediately, which made it so much harder. We danced around each other, leaving rooms the other occupied, sleeping in rooms far apart, claiming different bathrooms.

There was one night, a single night, when things were different. A moment of being drunk off the joy of winning his first league title led to a night of confused complications where we celebrated together, our laughs and jokes genuine and our touches and gazes reminiscent of earlier days.

I looked at the jewelry box on my dresser and sighed before leaving the room. Joan had taken a seat and was scrolling through his phone when I returned.

“All ready.” He looked up from his phone and smiled, which I was happy to reciprocate.

When we made it outside, I raised a surprised brow at the classic import Joan decided to pull up in; I didn’t take him for a car enthusiast. “You like?” he asked when he noticed how I looked around once we were in the car.

“I haven’t been in a classic since…” I swallowed the bitter taste that built up in my mouth. “We pulled off in an E-Type on my wedding day,” I laughed through the pang of the recollection.

Joan cast a sad glance in my direction before turning back to the road. He lightened the mood with many years worth of jokes and amusing stories as he weaved through the streets. I enjoyed listening to him as the still warm air scented with the sea breeze blew through the open windows.

Joan’s tales only continued between moments of getting to know more about me as we sat across from each other. Conversing with him throughout dinner was effortless. For that moment while we ate and conversed, I didn’t feel like my world was collapsing.

Our conversation lulled as Joan picked at what was left on his plate and I reached for my drink. I watched a quintet of men carrying instrument cases meander through the tables as I took slow sips of the basil and rum-infused punch. The straw fell from my lips as I watched curiously as they set up on a small stage in the back of the dining room. Other patrons also seemed to be interested as the leader plucked his reed from his mouth to introduce himself and the quartet behind him.

“Thought you might like enjoy this,” said Joan right as the emcee played a riff on his saxophone.

A slight smile upturned my lips as I listened to the band play swing covers of modern songs, as well as original pieces, livening the atmosphere of the dining room.

The marriage of the piano and drums to the bass, brass, and woodwind left me fidgeting in my seat. My toe tapped in time with the infectious rhythms as the music flowed through me. I heard Joan chuckle as he wiped his sip of beer from his upper lip.

He spoke over the music, “Looks like you want to dance.” His raise of an accusatory brow wrinkled his forehead.

“If you get tequila in my system I just might.”

“Now, Ms. Indigo, that sounds like something that might get me into trouble,” he chuckled.

“Only if you let it, Mister Joan.” I dragged out ‘Mister Joan’ and pressed my elbows onto the table, leaning in just a little closer. “Besides, a bit of trouble might be fun.”

I winked as I stood from my seat and sauntered off to the find the toilets. I hadn’t realized I was smiling until I took a look at myself in the mirror as I washed my hands. It was hard to remember the last time I genuinely laughed or enjoyed myself in the way I had been tonight. There was a war brewing in the back of my mind, however, as I tried to stop myself from comparing this to my first date with Cesc. I had to remind myself that this wasn’t the same; this was genuinely two people enjoying a friendly night out.

I wasn’t ready to put myself out there like that again. It was much too soon.

Before leaving, I did a bit of primping just to touch up what was wiped away while I ate and to boost my confidence. When I pulled open the dark wood door, my smile fell from my face.

Everything around me faded away including the music, which gradually became quieter as if I was walking further away from its source. All the pain, all of my memories—everything I had been fighting to push aside for tonight came rushing back to me. I suddenly felt too hot, too exposed, as the small hallway began to blur as vertigo sent the world violently spinning around me.

Suddenly, going out had become a mistake.

It was all there, written on his face for the quickest of moments before it was gone. The sound of my name coming from his mouth was too much to handle.

“—I thought that was you—”

I remained paralyzed as I stared at him leaning against the wall, his mouth moving but none of the words making sense. My trance was broken when someone walked between us, and I used the interruption to escape him and everything that I saw tucked away in his blues. I was sure that I heard him call my name again, but I didn’t stop; I had to get back to the table and hope that my smile was convincing enough so Joan wouldn’t probe for information.

“Got you that tequila.” He pointed to a salt-rimmed double shot glass sitting on a small square plate.

My heart was still racing as I sat down and reached for the glass. Joan watched in wonderment as I downed the entire shot. I could feel the burn of the alcohol tear at my throat as it traveled downward and warmed my chest. I wagged my head and looked out at some of the people that had gotten up to dance.

I forced a laugh. “I’m ready to dance now. As long as you can keep up, of course.”

His hand covered his heart. “Did you just imply that the music teacher couldn’t keep up?”

I laughed more genuinely but it was still rather weak. After a quick, final swig of his drink, Joan stood and held his hand out for me to take so that he could lead me out to a clearing in the room and make me back up my words.

Unsurprisingly, he kept up with me and showed me some moves that I hadn’t known. I got a good look at the pretty shade of green in his eyes when he pulled me back into him after twirling me outward. Dancing with him actually made me laugh out loud as I enjoyed myself.

“This is perfect,” I uttered as we swayed, catching our breaths, during a break in the music. “I should’ve known you’d take me to a jazz bar.”

His smile was pearly white. “What can I say? I’m a bit of a classic man. And I might have wanted to show you off just a little bit.”

My face felt flush when I remembered that only a few other couples were dancing along with us, but I continued trying to dance it away. The rest of my surroundings became blurred as we did spins and turns and rapid footwork. At one point, our foreheads briefly touched as I wrapped my leg around his thigh and leaned into his hand as I dipped.

“That tequila works wonders on you, I see,” he chuckled as I came back up.

I closed my eyes and exhaled through my nose as our foreheads touched again. “I haven’t had a night out like this in ages. I’m just enjoying myself.”

“I can definitely see that. I’m enjoying you enjoying yourself.”

We both laughed and I let my eyes flutter open. Our movements were still at our own pace, set apart from everyone else. Dancing became something else, something a little more intimate but not necessarily romantic or sexual. It was something between two people who were trying to get to know each other better without any real end goal. I wanted to be free for just one night and this was helping.

“You mind letting a pretty little lady like myself crash at yours?”

His brow lifted. “I don’t usually take strange women home.”

“So I’m a strange woman now?”

He lifted his hand and brought his thumb and index finger so close together that they were almost touching. “Just a little.” He licked his lips and smiled. “So, you want to see my place so soon?”

“Why not? We’re both consenting adults, aren’t we?” He laughed at something he saw behind me—a surprised face, I assumed—as he placed his hands on my hips and guided them in snaking motions. “You don’t wanna cuddle with me?” I teased.

“Hmm… not sure about that one.” His voice was soft in my ear.

“Oh, please.” I pressed closer to him. “I know you’ve been dreaming about it since I started working at the center.”

He gripped me tighter and moved with me. “I’ve had plenty of dreams but none of them actually involved cuddling.”

“Oh, ho ho,” I laughed scandalously. “Are classic men allowed to be so naughty?”

I looked over Joan’s shoulder before he pulled me back in after spinning away from me. I couldn’t stop myself.

He was at a table in the distance, staring out over the petite body of a blonde sitting across from him, facing away from me. As we stared at each other, I wondered how long he had been watching. I felt that ache but I couldn’t look away, and now that he knew I saw him watching, neither could he.

Joan spun us around, breaking me free of the trance that I was in. I could still feel him staring at me, taking in the view of my backside as I moved with the music.

“So is a sleepover out of the question or not?”

My partner wet his lips. “Are you the one having trouble keeping up now? Two more songs and I’ll give you the grand tour of my place.”

A flash of a smile spread across his face when I agreed to let him flaunt me and his move through two more songs. When our performance was up, we returned to the table so he could pay and to grab our things. When we were all sorted, I followed close behind as he led the way out, my smile gradually fading. Once we were outside, I stood off to the side and waited for Joan to bring the car around.

“Indigo.” I heard his voice again. I shook my head and refused to turn around. “Indi,” he called softly.

I bit down on my lip at the first sign of the slightest tremble. My chest felt tight, an all too familiar feeling I’d been experiencing for months.

“You’re just going to ignore me, then?”

I turned my head and caught his silhouette in my periphery. “Gerard—”

“He misses you, Indi.”

My mouth went dry. “You miss me or he misses me?”

“I’m trying to move on—” He looked around. “Are you seeing that guy now?”

“What do you want Gerard?” I faced him completely, unable to contain the myriad emotions running through me. “Why—”

He pulled me out of view, into the shadows of the restaurant, away from probing eyes. I wanted to collapse and cry out. I wanted to push him away and fight him off, but I simply slumped in his arms, the joy that I was feeling earlier quickly escaping me.

“Gerard,” I whimpered. His shirt wrinkled in my grip and he said nothing, he did nothing, as I continued to whimper . “Why didn’t you just let me leave? Go back inside with whoever—”

“He misses you—fuck, you already know that I miss you but I can’t—” He pressed his lips together and looked above me, scanning the area around us. “A bunch of us went out and you already know he can’t hold a drink,” he sighed. “He must’ve forgotten… he told me that you just up and disappeared—”

“I did what?”

He shrugged. “He said you were gone when he woke up in the morning. You left without saying anything.”

I scoffed and shook my head. Why would he say it like I abandoned him?

“I ended our marriage. I had to—”

He ran his hand up and down my back, something that was still so comforting despite our time apart and despite all the pain that I felt.

“It doesn’t matter. He just told me that you left. He woke up and you were gone with barely anything but some signed divorce papers left behind. I never expected you to leave—” He breathed a laugh then bit down on his lip and furrowed his brows. He looked down at me before cautiously continuing, “He told me about the women—some of them. He’s not the same, Indi. He’s different. He mentioned your name once and his eyes just—he needs to see you.”

I shook my head. I couldn’t get the image of him and another woman—other women—together. He was doing all that he could in order to get over me and I was afraid it was breaking him. It was turning him into something that he wasn’t and I didn’t know what to do.

We couldn’t be together again; he deserved a real chance at happiness with someone who wouldn’t take him for granted. I was afraid that seeing him would break me, but most of all I was afraid that it would break him all over again.

“We need to be apart in order to heal. You’re ruining that—”

“I’m sorry.” He held me at an arm's length and used his thumb to wipe my cheek dry. “I just saw you in there and I felt something—”

I looked away from him as I reached into my clutch for my vibrating phone. “Hey.”

“Uh, are you okay? Where’d you wander off to?” he asked worriedly.

“Sorry, I’ll be over in just a second.”

I ended the call and finally looked Gerard in the face. There was a blatant sadness in his eyes and a distant look of longing hidden amongst that sea of blue. A pang somewhere deep inside me forced me to look away.

“I have to go.”

“Remember what I said, Indigo,” he called as I walked away.

Joan was sitting in his car waiting for me. A look of relief washed over his face when he realized I was the one knocking on his window. He was all smiles as I settled into the passenger’s seat.

“Everything okay?” he asked carefully.

I nodded. “Of course.”

He opened his mouth but paused for a moment. His eyes flickered to the side and then back to me. “Are you sure? I just couldn’t help but notice that Gerard Piqué is standing out there looking like he wants to walk over here and say some very intense words to me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said quickly. “Just drive, please.”

He frowned and nodded. “As you wish.”

Gerard and I watched one another as Joan pulled away. I didn’t know what I expected or even wanted to happen once I reached Joan’s, but I knew that I needed just one moment to try and subdue what I was feeling.

I woke up beside Joan, his arm around my waist, the both of us atop his covers and fully clothed. He is as good a listener as he is a cuddler.

The entire mood of our night shifted once we were in his car. Flirting ceased and joking didn’t happen; a word barely passed between us until we were sitting in his kitchen drinking cups of coffee. He opened up first about his girlfriend of four years leaving him out of the blue. I told him Gerard and I go back a ways and that he was trying to act as a lone liaison between me and my ex. Naturally, Joan recognized that my ex was Cesc, but he made no comments.

I sighed and patted the back of Joan’s hand before pulling his arm off of me and sliding off the bed. I sought out the bathroom, and when I was done, I trekked back to the kitchen to pick up my phone. I didn’t really expect to see many notifications, but what I especially didn’t expect to see was a missed call and voicemail from Cesc.

It had to be pure coincidence.

I was willing to think that it was a mistake, a misdial, but once my shaky fingers were able to find my voice mailbox, I saw the message was much too long to just have been a mistake.

I sat down and pressed play before bringing my phone up to my face. My heartbeat was in my ears as I heard nothing but silence. After a few seconds, there was movement and then there he was.

“Hey—” The sound of his voice, so scratchy from a lack of sleep made my heart race. Every inch, every single tiny molecule that made up my existence missed hearing his voice and yearned for him in that moment. “I, um, I know it’s late. I know we haven’t spoken in so long but I... I don’t know. I just had an urge to call you. I’ve had it for a while but I never found the nerve until now.

“You’re probably sleeping, or you just watched this ring because you couldn’t or—or you didn’t want to answer and I don’t blame you for that. I guess I was just hoping to hear your voice even though I probably wouldn’t have had anything to say, so this is probably for the best, isn’t it?

“You don’t have to call me back. To be honest with you, I probably won’t pick up anyway. I couldn’t pick up. There’s been so much going on that I just—I guess I just miss you even though I really shouldn’t—” There was a long pause and a muffled sniffling noise. It was faint but I could hear him curse to himself. “I’ll be signing those papers for you. I wish you—”

He reached the time limit and probably didn’t even feel bothered to call again and continue what he had to say in another message. This one was more than enough for him; it was more than he could handle.

I was shaking by the time I set my phone back down on the table. I wanted to know what he was trying to say, but I was afraid to call him back. He didn’t sound it, but he must have been drunk. There was no other explanation for him deciding to call me out of the blue. Him having one drink too many was especially more plausible than him reaching out because Gerard told him that he saw me.

I stared off into space for a while, fully aware of each tear that I shed. Something he said just wouldn’t stop repeating in my head. After all this time, he still hadn’t signed the divorce papers that I left for him. He had them and held onto them for what reason? I left my signature so that he could move the process along and be rid of me, but he hadn’t done anything with them. What was he waiting for?

I hiccupped and sniffled quietly as I picked my phone up again and found my call history. My thumb hovered above his name and I almost pressed it. Ultimately, I couldn’t bring myself to call him.

It didn’t matter what Gerard said; Cesc needed the distance. Being apart from me was the best thing for him. He deserved happiness and freedom and so much more than to love an unfaithful joke of a woman.

I turned my phone off altogether and returned to Joan’s room to find him still fast asleep. It felt strange as I crawled back to him and wrapped his arm around me, but for the moment, it made me feel safe; It made it all go away.

“You okay?” he asked sleepily.

“Yeah, go back to sleep. I’m fine.”

I wasn’t fine, but he didn’t need to know that. I closed my eyes and struggled to find sleep again. After struggling for five minutes, I turned around and snuggled in closer to Joan, hoping the comfort of being this close to another person would help me just the slightest bit.

Joan cleared his throat and sleepily asked, “You want to talk about it?”

I blinked as I considered talking it out. The t-shirt that he changed into sometime during the night felt soft against my forehead as I kept it pressed against his chest. He still smelled slightly of the cologne he wore and the combination of it and being this close to him calmed me. It felt as if we had known each other all along.

“My ex called me,” I whispered.

“Oh.” He tried his best to embrace me, which meant pressing me against him and squeezing me with the arm he had draped over me. “What did he say?”

I closed my eyes. His voice was still clear as day.

“He misses me. He called just because he had the urge to. Until now, he hadn’t even signed the divorce papers.”

“Shit,” Joan remarked. Just one word fully conveyed his sympathy and surprise. He needn’t say anything more.

I nodded. “I want to believe that he was drunk leaving me a drunk message, but when he’s drunk he speaks in fragments. Those were all complete sentences that came from somewhere full of pain. When does it get easier?”

I rested my hand on his chest, my fingers clawed as I ran them over the fabric covering his skin. He paused as he mulled over his answer, leaving a quietness to settle that was only penetrated by the sound of his gentle breaths. Before he opened his mouth, his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“Honestly? I don’t know. For me, once that second or third month hit, I missed her a little less and less each day. That was only because I turned that hurt into anger. I thought that if I could be angry then I would be getting over it. I wasn’t. I still thought of her every time a song she loved played, or when I would do something that she used to scold me for like burp loudly.

“I realized that being angry was just another form of hurt that I didn’t let go of until like the sixth month. It might have been earlier than that, but that was when I walked into your classroom for the first time to observe you and I realized that she was no longer on my mind. How could I possibly allow myself to stay hung up on someone who clearly wasn’t meant for me when someone like you exists?”

I laughed, though I didn’t feel uplifted. “You really know how to ruin a moment, don’t you?”

“It made you laugh though, didn’t it?” he chuckled. “So, are you going to call him?”

“I shouldn’t—”

“Look—” He made sure to back away just enough so that he could move his arm and place a finger under my chin. The touch was enough to make me angle my head so that we could see each other’s faces; a comforting smile softened his. “—it’s really not my place, but we’re already here so I might as well. I don’t know the full details and I don’t need to, but if what you’re doing right now isn’t working for either of you, maybe it’s time to try something else to get that closure you need. He called you for a reason so find out what that reason was.”

I stared at his lips as he spoke because I didn’t want him to see the vulnerability in my eyes. He could probably still see it written all over my face anyway. I wanted to be able to let go, but something in me was still holding on as tightly as it could.

“Why do I feel like I’ve known you forever?” I muttered more to myself than to him.

“Maybe we’re actually soulmates finally reunited in this life,” he said in jest.

My eyes closed as I smiled and let my head rest against his chest once more. There was a time when I entertained the idea of my soulmate being out there, and I truly thought I had found mine until I realized that I was wrong.

#duplicity #still chugging along

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coreymichaelsmithson · 5 years

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Lanterns In A Darkened Field

Several years ago, I attended the wedding of two friends. This happened to take place in one of my favorite parts of the world … mid-coast Maine, an extraordinarily complex landscape, brutal during the winters but gorgeous from summer into fall. Its shores are quite rugged, with broken slabs of granite jutting out into the water, the rock carved into bizarre forms by the ceaseless churning of the surf. It’s a setting where one can see nature showcasing its peerless artistry, the powers of wind and water shaping stone and wood into exquisite sculptures. It’s also a good place to ruminate on the vicissitudes of fate, and one’s situation in the grand scheme of things.

The wedding itself was beautiful … simple, tasteful, and heartfelt. I love weddings, dearly, and I cared deeply about this particular couple’s happiness. But I found myself feeling increasingly anxious and out of sorts. There was lingering within me a sadness that I couldn’t shake, and I found it harder and harder to keep smiling through all the toasts and dances and rituals, the usual duties of a groomsman. It was one of those feelings that seemed to occupy the fuzzy space between other, more clearly recognizable emotions: loneliness, envy, regret.

At one point, it all became too much. I was overcome with melancholy, on the verge of tears, and so when nobody was looking I snuck away from the party to have myself a right proper breakdown. I took with me one of the tabletop decorations … a lantern, a simple glass housing with a dinky tea candle inside. Every table had one, so mine wouldn’t be missed. It didn’t provide much real illumination, certainly not enough to navigate the thick spruce woods surrounding the estate, and I don’t know exactly why I felt compelled to take it. On the edge of the woods, I let myself leak for a while, releasing my boo-hoo-hoos beneath the hooting of an owl. After I sniffled away the worst of it, I dusted myself off and took a walk.

Part of the venue’s property lay on an isthmus of sorts, a low spit of solid ground joining the mainland to a smaller hunk of rock. As the moon rose, I found myself in a small field of grass, pinched between the ocean and a lagoon. It was that special hour of twilight, when the sun has gone down but the western horizon remains fairly bright, the sky glowing in that Maxfield Parrish kind of blue, with shades of indigo directly overhead and the edges turning a dark purple. The moon rose over the ocean, its rays spilling upon grass dampened by sea spray. Beads glistened upon the blades like little diamonds. The stars above twinkled, too, though I knew this to be only an illusion created by our atmosphere.

Suddenly, I saw green lights firing up all around me. Fireflies, in amazing numbers, a whole galaxy of them, were congregating above the field. I had never seen so many in one place before. They moved and swirled and lit up in their mysterious dances, seemingly unperturbed by my presence. I walked for a while among them, making aimless circles in the wet grass, holding my lantern before me. I could hear faint echoes of the party, muffled by distance … music, laughter, a hubbub of conversation. The motors of lobster boats sputtered in the darkening water. But civilization seemed miles away. I was alone, save for the insects. For this moment, this one exquisite moment, it was just the lightning bugs, the stars, and me, all of us just lights in the night.

My twilight idyll would soon be shattered by two noisy partygoers, galumphing into the scene like a pair of moose. I went back to the party and proceeded to get completely bombed on vodka and weed. I cozied up to the bride’s family … her brother played his guitar, her sister taught me how to dance the Electric Slide, and their father electrified me with tales of seeing Judy Garland live in concert. There were many great laughs, some genuine connections forged, and I felt safe in the knowledge that my buddy, a man I loved very deeply, was casting his lot with a terrific tribe.

But the image of the fireflies stayed with me, lingering in the way that an unanswered question might haunt a room, or a secret presses against the inner lip. I couldn’t quite understand why, but the memory kept returning, again and again, and it brought with it a strange, subtle, warming kind of sorrow.

It’s taken me years to really pin down why that moment seemed so significant. I realize now what was really happening that night, and through all of the similar nights I’ve known in my long career of yearning. At that wedding, while I was trying so hard to remain cheerful for my friends, who had certainly earned their happy nuptials, I was actually grieving over a series of losses. My heart was carrying within it a long list of unrequited loves, painful yet fruitful dissatisfactions that I’d been collecting, in the way others might collect stamps or scalps. That night, I’d felt a funny kinship with all of these little glowing bugs, all of whom were searching for their mates, all of whom were trying their damnednest to shine, so that they may find true companionship. They might have died trying.

Until recently, I’d always been hoping for love to rescue me from despair, futility. I thought love would provide the incentive for self-improvement, the means to escape from bad habits, or a latticework to build stability. That night, I was holding my lantern, among all these other floating lanterns, hoping against hope that the magic, starry night would actualize my innermost desires, and that the love I thought I so richly deserved would materialize before me, hand extended, like royalty stepping out of a fancy coach.

In the years before that night, and for many years that followed, I looked for love in other people … romantic partners, intimate friendships, strangers. I hunted for love, of a sort, within the houses of red lights, those dark and throbbing places where men gather; I’ve spent hundreds upon hundreds of hours in parks, bars, cars, nightclubs, backrooms, rest stops, hotels, gas stations, saunas, steamrooms, even a monastery … digging through the strata of lust and desperation to reveal a few genuine veins of gold. I was always trying to find something that I thought had been missing in myself. I’ve squandered love, misplaced it, thrown it around like a monkey flinging poo in a zoo, and given it to those who didn’t know what to do with it. I’ve had loves that went terribly awry, loves that limped on for far too long, loves that survived a lot of carelessness, and loves that died because they just couldn’t bear the burden of unrealistic expectations.

I’ve since come to believe that empathy, rather than romance, is the key to true happiness. Kindness, more than fulfilled desire, sustains our civilization. Those of us who struggle to keep a little love for ourselves may still release great splashing quantities of it for others. We may project an outward aura of abundant, radiant friendliness, which comes easily to the hands and eyes when it is in the service of others, but does not extend inward to the benefit of our own souls. In contrast, our innermost self may feel like an arid wasteland, or a depleted garden bed, with all of the available nourishment redirected to a spouse, a child, a relative, a lover, a friend, a coworker, a neighbor, a partner … somebody more deserving of love and attention than ourselves.

For some of us, especially those who have endured far too many crushes, loving others without the expectation of reward may be the only real happiness we can ever know. Sometimes all we can do is offer our brightest lights and hope for the best. In the darkness, somebody else may see your lantern and guide themselves to safety by its beam. In the depths of suffering, the lantern of another person can be a lifesaving beacon. If you yourself can provide that light … by offering a bit of warmth, a gentle encouragement, a touch of sympathy … you could be saving another life, even if you are doing so inadvertently.

If our lanterns cannot light our own way, perhaps they may serve to light somebody else’s.

Know this, my fellow lonely hearts and losers: I see your lights. I see the candles you’ve been holding, candles for “him” or “her” or “them”, and I bless you for all your private unanswered devotion. I see your surrenders, which number among your finest works. I see the gracious yielding you’ve shown to spouses, to the preferred ones, to the winners. I see those brave (if not entirely selfless) releases, the sacrifices which will never be fully appreciated or understood by those who benefited most from them. I sense all the sweetness of yours that hasn’t yet been tasted. I see your sleepless and writhing nights, the ones that bunch your bedclothes and soak your pillows, and your long grey mornings. Yet amid all your jealousy and self-doubt I see also the first unfurling shoots of your future triumph. I see your thwarted dreams, your dashed fantasies, your senseless but enduring agonies … but I see also your transformative, beatific glory. I see you, my brokenhearted friend, in all your perfect imperfections, and I love you. And in your honor I open the shutters of my own lantern, so that I may signal to you that you are not alone, that yours is one of many hearts gleaming in this darkened field, and that in all your hopeful hungry glow you remain ever lovely. I see your steadfastness, your worthiness, and I thank you for it. You brighten the dusk for the rest of us, because your little flame, small but sincere, brings with it the comfort of fellowship. I raise my lantern for the seekers, the poor benighted souls, the lovesick fools, and I praise those who are still searching. I salute you, sad outliers who wander unkissed at the edge of every wedding. I lift my lamp for you, for me, for all of us, the fireflies … we who blink, in our plain insistent binary, the first and last and best of our love poems, each of which says, simply and softly, “Here I am, here I am, here I am.”

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homedesignlog-blog · 5 years

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20 Whimsical Bohemian Bedroom Ideas

Bohemian interiors are a mix and fit for everything and the rest. it's filled with texture, patterns, strains and wonderful contrasts. it would be a mix of shabby-sublime and standard or it might be an eclectic taste with a touch of rustic. it will be full of strikingly bold colorings or clean lines and minimalist colors. Sounds nice, right? the guts of this style is artistic touches and the tale of every commute and adventure. the great news is, it is not constrained to a strict rule. In Bohemian interiors, there are not any laws. it is all about reflecting one’s peculiarity, style, hobby, and way of life. it's all about freedom. Beneath is a list of 20 Whimsical Bohemian Bed Room Concepts which are certain to inspire the gypsy inside you. it's going to display you how this unconventional taste appears beautiful when placed-in combination. It showcases tricky details of artistic endeavors, exuberant colours, contrasts, lavish textures, and patterns. you will certain to love the earth elements, most commonly the lovely vegetables, positioned equilibrium to the whole equation. Scroll down and take a glance at every photograph carefully and permit me realize which one ignited the bohemian spirit in you.

SF Woman Bohemian style expresses individuality and it does not agree to any construction and order. The pattern-on-trend you see on the in style and toile wall accent enhances the entire scheme with its contrasts of colors each cushy and bold. The addition of picket in its antique and tacky-chic glory offers the stability to the room.

SWENYO This monochromatic room used indigo because the colour to focus on and brown or wood (earth colours) as a backdrop. These superbly performed placing tie-dyed fabrics grab the spotlight adding personality and eccentricity to it.

Irinel-Ramona Florescu This room is so dreamy and whimsy. The layers of white materials, from the hanging sheer that makes the bed extra intimate and cozy to the bedspread extending to the floor. it all works together to create a room full of personality with a lot of feminine flairs. if you would like to have a comfy and wonderful Bohemian bedroom, choose fabrics that you can layer together so that it will upload intensity and drama for your interiors like this one.

Designs By Means Of Jen This serene room is full of sophistication with its lovely texture and colors. i like the hanging inexperienced and the hints of brass decor bringing a glamorous contact to this bohemian lair. The knitted throw blanket and lovely throw pillows add texture and accent.

Gary Riggs Take hints from the places you might have been to or the place you might be dreaming to move to and start from there. The bohemian internal is ready adventure and travels like the one above. there is no incorrect decor or colors in this more or less style. All you wish to have is to understand yourself and the issues that define who you might be.

Irinel-Ramona Florescu that is one pretty bedroom i'd love to have all over my younger, unmarried years. i am interested in the hanging owl material decor and its stunning colours. The teal accessory makes it amusing and patterns on the bedspread and wall decor make it anything but boring.

Reem Elgafi i love the mural at the focal wall! The moon on a depressing evening sky provides drama and character to the room. The placing mild bulbs in numerous heights create intensity even as uncovered woods on the ceiling and the wood accents add texture and calming impact to the room.

Designs by means of Jen This bohemian bedroom layout has beautiful traces and patterns. The geometric strains create an attractive contrast to the floral and leafy styles.

Kriti Ahuja This bed room feels so elegant and serene. The map on the accessory wall exudes a traveller’s heart who longs for adventure and freedom. i really like how the picket ladder and the rest of the decor made it more interesting and interesting. check out are other ways to use a map to your bed room’s decor.

The Jungalow I've at all times been a fan of the rest wicker or rattan-made. there's one thing approximately its indigenousness that makes it stand out. on this bohemian-sublime bed room, the lovely styles and contrasts of colors make it very stunning and so serene. i love how the crops carry the room with its combine and fit of sophistication and simplicity.

Up By Means Of Design Be adventurous with colors, textures, and styles. on this surprising, unique room, bold colours and extremely stunning different patterns dominate the scheme. Filigree lanterns are a great addition that creates a large have an effect on when it comes to cozy lights and fascinating ornamentation.

Mackenzie Collier Interiors that is one cute nature-impressed Bohemian bed room design. The sticks accent was once from the hikes the owners have done. Beautiful blank traces and unexpected parts make this bed room a laugh and such a lot inviting.

Touch Interiors Make A Choice an interesting carpet to accentuate your bed and add personality to it like the one on this lovely bed room design. Hang that superbly made dream-catcher and different art work to instantly boost an empty space for your walls.

Webber + Studio, Architects This bedroom provides off a modern, bohemian vibe. the beautiful colours coming from the throw pillows and ottoman playfully intensify the bedroom. The brass pendant gentle provides sophistication and the pretend fur carpet creates a glam look.

Rachel Anderson This Gorgeous bedroom couldn't get any more bohemian than what it is. The surprising colour scheme used to return in combination wonderfully. It appears to be like so inviting and various.

Nordstrom i really like the whole thing in this room! The picket wall makes it simple for these pretty decors to face out on its personal. The whimsical bedding chimed completely with the artworks and ornamentation. Take a glance at this condominium with an identical funky colors!

Haute Couture Home This room is a mixture of clean up to date traces and enjoyable, exotic beddings and decor. the colourful carpet combined superbly with the country contact of wooden bed room furniture.

SWENYO This bedroom is so numerous! Bringing in a few vegetables inside your room can make it really feel an wireless escape to a tropical position depending on what kind of plant it's. Photographs appearing your interests, or pictures that inform a story, framed to other sizes could make a playful fill to an empty house for your walls. Worldly decor may just absolutely upload to the bohemian feel on your room.

Landmark Construction Inc Up To Date, blank strains meet rustic. The simplicity of this bedroom layout makes the geometric patterns stand out gorgeously

Sandeep Gulia This room is all about diversity. Different patterns and lovely textures make it so appealing and fascinating. The pop of lime green creates a lively punch that deviates from the rest of the room’s color scheme. Wish you like the list above. Truth is whilst I hear of the word “Boho-sublime” or “Bohemian style” nearly at once I see Esmeralda, a fictional persona in Victor Hugo’s 1831 novel The Hunchback of Notre-Dame, dancing gracefully with her flowy get dressed, barefoot on the boulevard. She completely defines Bohemian for me. A gypsy who used to be not afraid to radiate and include her individuality to herself and to any person else. Who willingly and bravely stands for what she thought used to be proper. finally, that is what Bohemian is all about, individualism, showing your real colors, now not minding what folks might say, be relaxed on your personal eccentricity. it is greater than a method, it is a state of mind. Read the full article

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